Microsoft Word - Betrayal-Ashlynn_Monroe.doc
Published by Silver Publishing
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Cover Artist: Reese Dante
Editor: Krystal Gabert
Betrayal © 2012 Ashlynn Monroe
ISBN # 9781920502904
Attention Readers: This book uses US English.
All rights reserved.
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DEDICATION
For all the women who've ever been with a cheater, this one is for you ladies. You're beautiful and wonderful, and he didn't know how lucky he was.
Betrayal Ashlynn
Monroe
PART ONE
A Quiet Neighborhood in Sioux City Iowa When Dyanna Archer entered the condo she shared with her husband, Anthony, the house was so quiet. She longed for what her sister Joanie had, happy children and chaos. Sighing, she went upstairs. In the back of her closet, she found a hot little red dress. After a few more minutes of rummaging around in the small space, she found her red pumps. They were sexy. Would she look sexier than Anthony's other woman? Pushing the painful question away, she went into the bathroom and picked out some makeup for later. On a whim, she called her favorite salon and was delighted to get an appointment with Cathy, the stylist who always cut her hair. Tonight she was going to splurge a little and show whatever-her-name-is that Anthony was giving up a sexy-as-hell wife. Halloween was a night for a girl to wear almost nothing, and for a moment she considered buying a naughty nurse costume, but she wanted to feel confident for the confrontation. For something of this life-changing magnitude a sexy dress was the best choice.
He'd been acting so strangely. His phone call to her
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earlier in the day had really freaked her out. She loved him and wanted to try to make it work, but his recent erratic behavior was scaring her.
She'd been married three years. The honeymoon shouldn't be over so soon. It didn't seem like he'd been her husband long enough to have lost interest already. Sure, marriages failed, but she'd known Anthony since they were fourteen. They'd been best friends long before they'd been lovers. He knew her better than anyone did. Remembering his phone call made her shiver.
* * * *
Reaching into her purse, Dyanna fished out her buzzing phone. It was her husband.
"Hello." A pause, not a good sign. Waiting for a response felt like an eternity.
She cleared her voice, speaking louder.
"Hello, Anthony, can you hear me?"
"Yes." It wasn't much of a greeting.
"Babe, you called me. What's up?" Her husband hadn't spoken to her in days. His strange behavior had started about a month before. He'd gone out with the guys one night and hadn't come home for three days. When he finally showed up, he told her he wouldn't be going back to
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work and started sleeping in the basement all day.
Another pause, something was definitely up with him. Is he finally going to tell me about the other woman?
"I need to see you tonight." It sounded more like an order than an invitation. Dyanna wasn't impressed.
"Why?" It was her turn to be short with him.
"I love you. If you want to save our marriage and be with me forever, you'll come." Anthony's tone changed. The words had a desperate quality, Dyanna's heart stopped.
"Are you cheating on me?" She had to know.
"Come to Club Silver Moon tonight. Dress-up, something sexy. Tell the man at the door you're my special guest. He'll let you in."
"Why do you have special privileges there? I heard that place is like Fort Knox, no one gets in without humongous boobs or a lot of money. Last time I checked, you didn't have either. Just come home; we can talk there."
If she were going to find out about the other woman, she'd rather be home. Why would he want to break her heart at a public place? What was so special about this club? He didn't go out with the guys anymore, he didn't talk to his family. Was the woman from the club? Was he foolish enough to bring her face-to-face with the woman he was cheating with? She didn't want to go, but a morbid curiosity about the woman made it hard to decide what she
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really wanted to do.
When Anthony spoke, his voice was frightening.
She'd never heard her husband sound so threatening before. "You'll come, or I'll never see you again."
She flinched as the meaning of his words fully registered. How could he hurt her like this? The audacity of his statement left her speechless for a moment. Then she recovered. "What time do you want me there?" How showing up would save her marriage she didn't know, but she'd always wonder about the meeting if she didn't go. She had a sexy red dress and new pumps to match. If he was prepared to lose her, she'd show him just what he was giving up.
"Ten."
"Are you selling drugs? What's wrong with you, Anthony?" What was an unemployed guy suddenly doing at a swanky place like Club Silver Moon?
He said nothing.
She sighed. "Okay, ten. I'll be home in a few hours.
Will you still be home?"
"I'll be sleeping." He did a lot of that late
ly. The line disconnected. He hung up on her without a goodbye.
* * * *
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The clock said it was four forty-five in the afternoon. Dyanna left the condo to go to the salon, grabbing her purse and keys on the way out. She was shocked her husband wasn't home sleeping in the basement like usual. A sharp pang of loneliness cut into her heart.
Why did love have to hurt so fucking much? If he honestly ever loved her, he should have the balls to tell her at home the marriage was over.
At least she'd get to see the inside of Club Silver Moon. No one got in unless they were on the list. This situation was crazy. Dyanna believed in Anthony and thought she knew him, until recently. He'd better spill his guts the second he saw her. She hated suspense, and his erratic behavior combined with the surreal invitation made her feel antsy. Waiting sucked.
A few hours later, she returned home with the elegant up-do piled softly on her head. Curls trailed down, and a glittery spray added just the right touch to the overpriced salon creation. She'd had the good sense to wear a button-up shirt. To her relief her hair was still perfect as she pulled the bodice of the strapless red mini dress over her small breasts. She often went braless, and sometimes, on a whim, didn't bother with panties. If her husband begged her forgiveness and confessed his crimes against their marriage, she might even let him have his way with
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her. They hadn't had sex in a month, and her body needed release. Pissed or not she needed a good fuck.
After making her face look as glamorous as her hair she stepped back, delighted with the result. If he planned to let her go, she wasn't going to make it easy. Looking at her cell phone clock, Dyanna gave a frustrated cry. It was only nine. She had time to kill so she cracked open a beer and sat down on the back patio. She felt like she was waiting to go to a funeral, not a club.
Dyanna called a cab, not willing to drink and drive.
She had enough problems, and a ticket and visit to jail weren't anything she needed tonight. If Anthony decided to be a prick, she'd need more than one beer to salvage the night. She hadn't invited any friends because she didn't want to explain her marital troubles to them. She'd kept the problems to herself, only sharing her pain with her sister, because if he straightened up she didn't want all her friends to think she was married to the world's biggest pain in the ass.
The cab dropped her off in front of the club. She started to hand the driver his fare and tip, but he grabbed her arm, stopping her for a moment and causing Dyanna to gasp at the unexpected and improper move.
"Lady, you seem nice. Are you sure, you want to go to that place tonight? I'll take you anywhere else, on the
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house."
He looked worried. A shiver went down her spine.
"I'm meeting someone here. I'll be okay."
"I drop a lot of fares at this place and don't pick 'em up, if you know what I mean." He was creeping her out.
Was this a new serial killer move? Concerned cab driver was original, she'd give him credit for that.
"Are you telling me people go missing here?"
"I don't know. It's weird. There's never anything on the news or whatever, but yeah. Maybe the place gives free rides, but none of 'em ever call a cab."
"I'll probably be ready to leave between midnight and two. I'll call your company. Can I ask for you? If I leave alive, will you comp the ride?"
"Yeah, I'd love to know what goes on in that place.
Here's my card. That's my cab number; let dispatch know, and I'll comp you a ride."
"Cool, thanks." She was surprised. It seemed a little creepy, but the guy was old enough to be her dad. Maybe his paternal instincts made him offer. She really hoped he wasn't a serial killer, because the guy genuinely looked concerned.
"Don't thank me yet." His tone was ominous, and she felt like laughing but didn't. She wasn't going to look a gift horse—or cab—in the mouth. The guy must have been
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watching too many horror movies.
Dyanna watched him drive away. Why did she feel like she should be running after him, screaming to get back in the cab? Shrugging she turned to see the line of wanna-be party animals, waiting to be rejected by the bouncer.
Maybe she wouldn't be too early after all. She moved toward the back of the line when the bouncer at the door shouted to her.
"Hey hot stuff, is your name on the list?" His look was almost… hungry.
"Dyanna Archer." She truly expected him to tell her to leave when he looked up and smiled. Did he just lick his lips?
"Here you go, Ms Archer. Enjoy Club Silver Moon; it'll sure as hell enjoy you." She felt dirty just feeling his eyes on her. Dyanna quickly rushed into the open door, not wanting to spend a second more with the creep. What an odd thing to say. It'll enjoy me? Weird.
Loud heavy metal music blared at her as she walked inside. Everyone in the club was wearing black. Her red stuck out like a sore thumb. Feeling as if she'd missed a memo she walked through the crowd. Several men sniffed her as she walked by. They really and truly smelled her, loudly. What the fuck? The women they were with made soft hissing noises. The sounds reminded her of snakes. She
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looked back at the exit. These people took the holiday way too seriously. The costumes were great; she noticed a woman with the best vampire costume she'd ever seen.
When the woman's eyes seemed to glow reflectively in the dim light and she opened her mouth to hiss, Dy marveled at how well her fangs seemed affixed. Everything inside of her mind told her to leave, but the confusion and agony in her heart forced her to stay. She had to give him one more chance. If she didn't like what he had to say, she'd leave and walk to a creep-free bar to drown her sorrows. For now, she decided not to drink anything. A place like this screamed ruffie-colada. She didn't want to wake up and find out she'd been gang raped by guys with a sniffing fetish.
Even for Halloween the live performance was in very bad taste. She passed to stare at a gruesome stage. A man lay on a low platform, flat on his back, naked, letting a tall gaunt man slice him with a little knife. Each time the wicked little knife nicked him, naked dude moaned with pleasure. A different man knelt beside the bleeding man, performing oral. She quickly looked away. Never before had she witnessed any kind of sex show. This place really wasn't her style. Prudish wasn't a word she'd use to describe herself, but this was offensive. She had no problem with the guy-on-guy thing, but the public sex and cutting was just
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too much for her to handle. It had to be fake, but the sight still turned her stomach. What kind of freak show was Club Silver Moon? No wonder they didn't let many people in; you'd have to be a sadist to enjoy watching something so twisted and dark. She'd been curious about what the club was like, but now she just wanted to leave. It wasn't for her.
Why would her husband want to be here? Anthony didn't belong in such a twisted place. He didn't get off on other people's pain, at least that's what she believed. She was beginning to doubt everything she knew about the man she married.
She didn't see her husband anywhere. Maybe it was just a coincidence that the bouncer let her in the door.
Maybe Anthony had just told her to come so he could get her out of the house and get his stuff. She turned, ready to rush out and call the concerned cab driver back. At that moment, her husband could be loading her TV and her couch into a van to move them into his secret girlfriend's place. When she turned, she noticed that the crowd of gothic scaries had blocked the path to the exit. They all seemed high. The music just stopped, as a new song was being set up to play, and the gothic zombies still moved as if in the middle of the best song
ever played. She tried to snake her way through them, her soft excuse me's met only with more creepy-as-hell hissing. What is up with that
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noise? Is that how the kids are saying hello now days?
The place was so dark she could barely see. Black lights were the only illumination. Neon paint reacted brightly with the light, and it helped her figure out where the walls were, but the exit sign seemed to be getting farther away as she used the wall to guide her out. Every door she found was locked. As she rounded a corner, she discovered she was in front of another stage. A woman was strapped naked, spread eagle on a giant X. The female seemed completely out of it. She should be screaming.
When a man in leather made a fresh wound on the woman with a wicked looking little knife, Dyanna couldn't see anything indicating special effects makeup. It looked very real. Either they had a very talented person behind the scenes, or this place was sicker than she'd originally thought. The semi-conscious woman had a cut over each of her breasts and two men lapped at the trails of red as it trickled down her stomach and sides. That just cannot be healthy. She was just about to avert her eyes from the horrific show when she felt someone tall pressing up behind her.
"Like what you see?" His voice was sinfully smooth, seductive, and not at all familiar.
She didn't even turn around, nor did she avert her eyes in embarrassment.
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"No." She spoke as bravely as she could, but her voice wavered just a little bit with fear.
The man didn't back off, even though he had to know he was totally encroaching on her personal space.
She could feel the rumble of his laughter. She decided to ignore the a-hole and continue trying to make her escape.
"Where are you going? So very soon, too soon—
have a drink." It didn't sound like a real question or a genuine request. It sounded like an order to stay.