I gave myself one final glance in the mirror, satisfied that my outfit would suit my purposes. I chose to wear something in dark hues so that I wouldn't be as obvious against the night. I'd chosen one of my favorite shirts, black and strappy, perfect for a hot summer evening, but not too flashy so I wouldn't stand out, I hoped. I also wore my favorite gray pleated shorts and my Giuseppe Zanotti stilettos. When I'd evaluated my outfit at first, it looked bland, so I decided on a few pieces of jewelry - my diamond tennis bracelet, black diamond earrings, and then I topped it off with a pretty necklace with diamonds outlining delicate white gold flowers. The jewelry was fairly ordinary, so I knew I'd blend in. Just before I left my room, I grabbed a pair of black sunglasses and one of my many black clutch purses. 

I buzzed the intercom and told Preston to meet me out front with the car. I climbed in and told him to park on the far side of our driveway, where the drivers sometimes parked the cars to air them out or clean them. 

He gave me a confused look. "Keep the engine running," I said. "And when you see Louis' car leave the parking lot, follow him at a safe distance so he doesn't know we're following him." 

He nodded, looking bewildered. 

We waited for about fifteen minutes and Louis came cruising down the driveway and I told Preston to follow him, with a little bit of excitement in my voice. 

Preston was careful to follow far enough behind Louis so he wouldn't see us, but closely enough so we wouldn't lose him. There were many limos in our neighborhood, so as long as Louis hadn't noticed us coming out of our driveway, there was very little chance he would recognize the limo. As we followed Louis into the city, I watched his shaggy brown hair blowing in the wind. I couldn't decide if I liked the shaggy look or not; Richard was always close-cut and clean-shaven. And even though he was impossibly attractive and he had a magnificent body, I was starting to find him a little...boring. Sure, looks should count for something, but we always did the same things. He didn't sweep me off my feet anymore, and he didn't send shivers up my spine when he held my hand or kissed me good-night.

When we got into the traffic of downtown New York City, our progress was much slower, but I made sure to keep a keen eye on Louis' car. 

He took a few turns and then pulled into a parking ramp. I told Preston to park outside of the ramp and then I prayed that Louis would actually come back out that way so I could complete my mission. I saw him a few minutes later and when he was about half a block ahead of where we were, I got out of the limo. 

"Just wait for me here, Preston," I commanded him. 

"Ms. Ashten, you can't go around New York City by yourself, at night! It's dangerous." 

"I'm following Louis, in case you hadn't figured it out," I said, irritation seeping into my voice. "Wherever he's going should be safe. But just in case, I have my phone set to make an emergency call if needed, and I have my pepper spray." 

"But, Ms. Ashten-"

"I know what I'm doing!" I snapped, noticing Louis was getting farther and farther away. I slammed the door and ran after him, well actually it was an awkward speed-walk because I had four-inch heels on my feet. After another two blocks, Louis turned around quickly and I ducked behind a sign and peeked around it. He hadn't noticed me. He rushed down a flight of stairs into the subway. 

"Ew," I groaned, having heard horror stories about the subway tunnels and the "interesting" variety of people who loitered down there. But I swallowed my apprehension and I took off after Louis, reaching the top of the stairs just as he hit the bottom and took off walking. I prayed again that I could keep up with him without being noticed. He walked very fast, and it was only because of my daily workouts that I could keep up, but just barely. 

I passed several people in filthy clothing, sitting along the walls of the subway tunnel. I noticed an old lady sitting in an alcove. She had a small wheeled cart filled with garbage, or at least that's what it looked like. She looked up at me and smiled and I tried not to show my alarm when I saw one lone tooth hanging from the top of her mouth. When I walked right in front of her, there was a disgusting odor coming from her. I gagged and plugged my nose. She held up a small cup with a few coins in it, begging for a contribution.

Ugh, no! I wasn't going to give my money to someone like her.

Louis took an abrupt turn to the left and walked down a tunnel that seemed a little more dark and dingy. There were still a number of people walking in the same direction, so I wasn't the only one following Louis. 

"Where the hell are you going?" I muttered as my calves burned. 

He turned down another passageway and this one was obviously abandoned, but it was surprisingly beautiful. The ceiling arched over us in stunning leaded glass designs. The arches and columns were made of intricate patterns of different colored bricks. It felt like I had stepped back in time, and I felt a little sad that this portion of the subway was no longer used, at least not for the train. How tragic that the main subway line was now housed by cold and dirty tile and cement.

As Louis and the other people moved on, I was quite mystified. It was strange that so many people were going in the same direction. I could hear many voices from farther down the tunnel, so I hoped we would be coming back out to a main artery of the subway.

Where in god's name was he going? 

We turned around a slight bend in the tunnel and I saw a huge line of people, clearly waiting for something. When I got to the end of the line, I looked ahead and saw a bright, neon blue sign that said, "The Underground." 

I was almost to the front of the line when I realized that it was a dance club. What a strange place for one! I kept a close eye on Louis, not knowing how big the place was and how many people would be in there. 

When I reached the front of the queue, an extremely large man with biceps the size of watermelons asked for my i.d. I reached into my purse and gave it to him. He sneered and then said, "Ten bucks." 

"Um, can you break a $100?" I asked, giving him a crisp bill. 

He laughed in a somewhat sinister way and said, "Yeah, and you'd better be careful in there, little lady. Are you alone?" 

I nodded as he handed me my change. 

"Good luck," he said, stamping something onto my hand. He laughed again and he motioned for me to go inside. 

I wondered what he meant by that last comment while I scanned the crowd for Louis. It wasn't hard to spot his shaggy brown hair and his red and white basketball tank top. I watched him as he approached a small group of people at a table. He hugged a few of the girls and he gave the guys handshakes or pats on the back. He talked in an animated way and flashed a rather stupendous smile. I'd never seen him smile that big before. 

It was ridiculously loud, so I didn't notice right away when a guy wearing a blue apron that read, "It's Better Underground," stopped right in front of me. "Do you want a drink?" He asked rather gruffly. 

"White wine spritzer," I said, feeling like I might need a little alcohol to calm my nerves. 

"Nice try, cupcake," he chuckled. 

"What do you mean?" I asked, annoyed by his nickname for me. 

"That little stamp on your hand tells me that you're under 21. I can give you a Coke or lemonade." 

"Do you know who I am?!" I demanded. 

"Sorry, cupcake. I have no idea, and it doesn't matter because you ain't gettin' any alcohol tonight," he said. 

"Fine!" I huffed, handing him some money. "Lemonade with a spring of mint." 

He laughed and shook his head as he walked away. He came back shortly with my drink, which was clearly missing the garnish.

"I wanted a sprig of mint," I said sharply. 

"And I wanted to play for the NFL. Too bad," he said and walked away. 

I began to wonder why I was in this place with smelly bodies, ill-mannered staff and girls dressed like hookers. Then I remembered my mission. I scanned the crowd, finding Louis still laughing and talking with his friends. I decided to find a dark place to sit so he wouldn't notice me. There was a nice, dim booth near the very back of the club. 

I got settled and sipped my lemonade. It was almost tasteless and slightly warm. "Incompetent jerk," I grumbled. 

I looked around the club. It wasn't anything like the places I usually went to. As I observed the surroundings, I noticed the walls were all some kind of stone or cement with absolutely no decoration whatsoever. What I could see of the floor was plain cement with cracks and stains all over. The furniture looked worn, and as I'd experienced more than once, the staff here was rather boorish. 

When I looked at the tiny stage, I was confused when I saw Louis and some of his friends climbing the steps. Louis positioned himself in front of the microphone while the others picked various instruments and began tuning them. 

Louis and his friends were actually going to perform. This ought to be good, I thought, already feeling embarrassed for poor Louis, who would undoubtedly make a fool of himself. He was so cocky, he thought he could do anything he wanted. 

When they were finished tuning up, the music died down and Louis spoke into his microphone. "I'm Louis-" 

His short introduction was met with screams and shouts from almost everyone in the place. They started playing an upbeat song that I hadn't heard before. Louis practically kissed the mic as he started singing, and my eyes widened in shock. 

Stained coffee cup
Just a fingerprint of lipstick's not enough
Sweet where you lay,
Still a trace of innocence on the pillow case 

I was just a little bit blown away; his voice was unbelievable. I wondered why he never told me that he could sing! I couldn't imagine keeping something like that a secret.

His friends joined him, singing,

Waking up
Beside you I'm a loaded gun
I can't contain this anymore
I'm all yours, I've got no control, no control
Powerless
And I don't care it's obvious
I just can't get enough of you
The pedal's down, my eyes are closed
No control

Taste on my tongue
I don't want to wash away the night before
In the heat where you lay
I could stay right here and burn in it all day 

I couldn't help but get lost in the suggestive lyrics, and Louis' voice had me captivated. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him as his mouth moved and his chest heaved with the deep breaths he needed to belt out the song. 

I began to feel something very unusual; it was like a burning sensation, traveling up my neck. A little shock of electricity went from my chest to my lower regions. I was almost embarrassed, but I arched my back into the pleasurable feeling. It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before.

Louis stepped back from the mic and one of his friends sang the next few lines and I was equally impressed with his talent. He was very good-looking; his black hair and olive skin made me think he was possibly Middle-Eastern, or maybe from the Far East. 

Lost my senses
I'm defenseless
Her perfume's holding me ransom
Sweet and sour
Heart devoured
Lying here I count the hours

I watched as the band exuberantly finished the song, and then more screams and shouts erupted from the crowd. Apparently, Louis already had a reputation here. How was that possible when he'd only been here for three weeks? 

They played a few more songs and I cheered loudly for them after every one. It was safe; Louis wouldn't hear me anyway. 

I drank the last bit of my lemonade. A tall, dark-haired guy sat down right next to me. "I'm Harry."

I'd actually noticed him earlier. He was tall with a cute little ponytail high on the back of his head. His sharp green eyes and devilish smile had caught my attention. He certainly wasn't my type, but I still noticed an attractive man when I saw one.

My opinion quickly changed, however, when he spoke again. "Come here often?" The stench of alcohol hit my nose and I tried not to gag. I grimaced at him; I couldn't believe anyone actually used that ludicrous pick-up line. 

"No, I don't. And I would like you to leave." 

When Harry didn't follow my instructions, I scooted around the circular seat, trying to get away from him. But he grabbed my wrist harshly and pulled me back to him with unexpected strength. "I don't think so," he breathed in my ear, assaulting me once again with his foul breath. 

He looped one hand over my shoulder, holding me firmly against his side. With his other hand, he grabbed mine. I tried to pull away, but he yanked my diamond bracelet off my wrist, leaving my skin raw. 

"Give it back!" I shouted, about to burst into tears. I didn't want to appear weak, but I'd never been so scared in my life. 

"Nope. I've been wanting a pretty little rich girl like you, and all of her pretty little...things. Now let's see what else I can take off," he said, sliding his hand down from my shoulder towards the top of my blouse. Meanwhile, his other hand landed heavily on my knee and moved up dangerously close to my crotch. 

I was trembling in fear, not knowing how I could fight him off. We were in a very dark corner and the crazy loud music had resumed. There was no way anyone would hear me, no matter how loud I screamed. 

"Please!" I cried. "Please just leave me alone. I'll give you the necklace, too, if you'll just leave. It's worth a lot of money." 

"No," he growled into my ear. "I'd like a piece of this better than a diamond necklace." He sucked on my earlobe and kissed my neck. 

My entire body was stiff as I choked back a sob. I closed my eyes and tried to focus, trying to remember if there was any self-defense move I could do when he had me so tightly in his grasp. But I was losing hope, knowing that with his strength, he could easily drag me out of the bar and rape me. Or worse. 

Suddenly, he was yanked away from me and I squinted, letting my eyes open slowly. There was Louis, holding Harry by the back of his shirt, while his black-haired friend from the band stood close by. 

I heard Louis yelling at Harry, and then he shoved him away. Harry lurched at Louis, throwing his arm in a weak attempt at a punch. Louis simply ducked to the side and Harry fell onto the floor, passed out cold. Louis' friend was waving someone over. The bouncer from the front door came and picked Harry up like he was a rag doll and carried him away. 

I jumped out of the booth and sprung up on my tiptoes, throwing my arms around Louis' neck and sobbing violently.

He encompassed me with his arms, holding me closer than I've ever been held. I couldn't stop crying and I'm sure Louis' neck was soaked with my tears. 

"Shh," he spoke softly in my ear. "It's okay, Ash. I've got you. It's all right." He kept a firm grip on me, stroking my back, comforting me, holding me like he would never let go. 

My face remained pressed against the skin of his neck. I heard him yell to his friend over the loud music. "Hey, Zayn! I'm going to take her home. Say good-bye for me." 

It was a very long time before I dared to let go of him. 

He ducked his head a little to look directly at me. "Let's go home, okay?" 

I nodded and held on to his hand so tightly that I thought I might cut off his circulation. He wove his way through the crowd, dragging me close behind. 

When we were back out in the tunnel, Louis asked, "Are you okay?" 

My whole body was still trembling. I nodded, but my lip quivered, trying to fight back my tears. I knew I looked like a big baby.

Louis pulled me back into his arms, holding me so closely that I felt as if I were completely molded to his body. I felt so safe, I never wanted him to let go. 

Again, he whispered comforting things into my ear. "I've got you. You're safe. I'm right here." 

After a few minutes, he said, "Let's get you home." 

"Yes," I said, my voice coming out like a croak. "Take me to my chauffeur." 

"I'm not at work, so I don't have to do what you tell me to," he said lightly. "I'll take you home." 

"Preston is waiting outside. He can take me home, really," I insisted, even though I really wanted to stay with Louis.

"Fine, where is he parked?" 

"I don't remember," I cried, letting more teardrops stream down my cheeks. 

He asked for my phone, so I dug in my purse and handed it to him. He searched through my contacts and called Preston. 

"Hey, Preston, it's Louis. I've got Ashten. You can head home." 

I heard Preston's voice through the phone. "Shit, what happened, man? I knew I shouldn't have let her go out there by herself." 

"She had a run-in with an asshole, that's all. She'll be okay, and I'll get her home safely." 

"All right, man. Make sure you do, or the Norwoods will have me hung by my balls." 

I laughed a little bit; I'd never heard Preston speak so casually before. With me, he was always required to say, "Yes, ma'am," or "No, Ms. Ashten." 

I walked quietly behind Louis, trekking our way back through the subway tunnels. When we got to his car, I raved about it. "Louis Tomlinson, you drive an Austin-Healey!?" 

"Wow, you know cars?" He asked. 

"I know this one. This is my favorite, the Austin-Healey." I ran my hand along the smooth paint of the hood and reverently touched the hood ornament. 

"Having a moment with my car, are you?" He teased. 

I bit my lip, not sure if I should admit this or not. "Well, I'm actually a huge car enthusiast, especially old cars and foreign models. And don't you dare harass me about it! I've never even admitted that to anyone outside my family." 

It had just started raining as we entered the ramp, so Louis put the top up, and we got inside.

"Actually, I think it's really cool that you're into cars. What do you drive?"

"Well...." I hesitated, not wanting him to think I was helpless. "I don't actually drive yet. I have three cars in the garage, waiting for me to use, but I've just never gotten around to taking driving lessons yet."

"Don't be embarrassed. My grandma was married to my granddad for 57 years, and she never learned how to drive. Granddad drove her everywhere. And hey, you have a chauffeur, so there's no hurry in learning, is there?"

"No, but I want to drive. I don't want to feel like I'm dependent on other people my whole life."

Louis' jaw dropped. "You mean, you don't want other people to serve you, wait on you, and take care of your every need for ever?" 

"Quit with the sarcasm, Tomlinson! It's unbecoming."

"Whatever that means," he mumbled.

"It means it's unflattering, ill-suited, inappropriate," I explained.

"Thank you for the vocabulary lesson. Oh wait, that was sarcastic, wasn't it?"

I laughed, feeling better. "Yes, it was!" 

 I asked Louis, "So, no offense or anything, but how can you afford a car like this?" 

"Remember when I told you about the car I saved up for by working at Burger King?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, this is it. When I bought her, she was just a heap of scrap metal, practically. But I took a few years to fix her up, and now look at her." 

"So, what did you do? Take it to a repair shop and have them fix everything and paint it?" 

"No," he said emphatically. "I did the work. When I first got her, I pulled everything out of the interior so I could start from scratch. I used my own muscles and my own tools. Pretty much everything had to be replaced. I saved up for each piece, but the seats are original; I just had to recover them. I pulled out the engine and had it sitting on our old work bench in the garage for months, cleaning it up, fixing the components, getting it running again. I could go on and on, but I would probably just bore you to death." 

"Why didn't you just pay to have all that work done?" I asked. 

"It's rewarding to build something with your own hands, shaping it just the way you want it, working hard to get it just right. I am in love with this car, and if I could, I'd drive it til the day I die." 

He paused to slam on his brakes for someone who cut us off. I could tell he was tempted to say something vulgar, but he restrained himself. Then he continued. "You seem to forget that not everyone in the world can just fork over a wad of cash to get anything they want, when they want it." 

"Are you saying I'm spoiled?" I asked. 

"Sure am," he said, but the little smile on his face made my anger fade. 

"Thank you," I whispered. 

"What's that?" He chuckled. 

I spoke a little louder, "Thank you for helping me. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come over when you did." My voice cracked, signaling another round of crying. I was a complete wreck. I hadn't cried like this since I was 12. 

"He took my bracelet," I sniffed. "It wasn't worth that much, but it was one of my favorites."

"I'm sorry, Ash." I was confused about how I felt that he called me Ash. No one else had ever called me anything but my full name. It made me feel kind of special, actually. 

He reached over to squeeze my hand, but I winced and jerked away when his hand grazed my wrist.

"What happened?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"When he yanked the bracelet off my wrist, it cut me," I said mournfully. "How did you know I was there?" I asked, feeling embarrassed that he found out I'd followed him. 

"I knew from the moment you left the house," he grinned. "I'm pretty observant. I knew where you were the whole time." 

I closed my eyes in humiliation. So much for trying to go incognito. 

"A word of advice: the next time you follow someone, don't take your limo. Call a cab or something." 

"Shut up," I mumbled. 

"Do you mind if I ask why you followed me?" 

"Yes, I mind. And no, I don't want to talk about it." 

We rode the rest of the way in silence. Louis pulled inside the servants' garage, which I'd never been in before. It was spacious and tidy and bright; I'd always expected it to be dark and dirty. 

He came around and opened the door for me. When I got out of the car, he put his hands on my shoulders and gently rubbed up and down my arms. "Are you going to be okay? That was really scary, wasn't it?" 

I nodded, pursing my lips, commanding myself not to cry again. 

"Would you like me to walk you to your room?" 

I nodded again. I knew my parents would be in bed already, so I wasn't afraid about having Louis walk me through the house. He kept his hand lightly on the small of my back until we got to my bedroom door. 

I turned around to face him before I went inside. "Louis?" 

"Yes?" 

"Would you, um, st..stay with me until I fall asleep?" I don't know what possessed me to say that; even Richard had never been in my bedroom. 

"Absolutely," he said with a faint smile. He came in, but then he said, "Why don't you go and get ready for bed, and I'll find something to put on your wrist."

I hurried into the bathroom and walked into my closet, trying to find the most modest pajamas I had. I found a pair of silk shorts and a spaghetti-strap top; it was too revealing for my tastes, but no one ever saw me in my pajamas except my parents or Danielle. I could have slept in a t-shirt and sweats. I actually laughed out loud at the idea, and then I clasped my hand over my mouth, hoping Louis wasn't back. If he heard me laughing in the bathroom, he would think I'd gone just a little insane.

I quickly dressed in my pajamas, washed and moisturized my face, and brushed my teeth. Then I brushed them again just because I felt like it.

When I cracked the door open, I saw that Louis had returned and was sitting in the over-sized Queen Anne's chair by my bed. 

"Close your eyes," I commanded.

He obeyed and I rushed to my bed, throwing myself under the covers. 

"Okay," I said. 

He opened his eyes and came over to sit on the edge of my bed. I felt a little uneasy at first, but I knew he was just going to put something on my wrist. He opened a tube of some kind of ointment and spread it carefully over my cuts.

I gasped at the pain and jerked my hand back, but he held it firm.

"I know it stings, but it will stop hurting soon. This has lidocaine in it." Then he wrapped a large piece of gauze around my wrist and secured it with white tape. Then he did the strangest thing - he brought my hand up to his lips and kissed the bandage lightly.

"Why do people do that?" I asked.

"Haven't you ever heard the phrase Kiss it and make it better? Surely, you mom must have done that when she put band-aids on for you."

"My nanny took care of all my cuts and scrapes, and she never kissed it like that. She took care of me when I was sick, too. My mom stayed far away from me, and I was quarantined to my room because my mom didn't want to get sick."

"Aw, that's so sad. Mothers are supposed to comfort their kids when they're hurt."

I shrugged. "I guess I didn't know what I was missing out on until now."

Louis leaned in close and held my gaze for a moment. Then he jumped off the bed and back to the chair.

"All set?" 

"Mmhmm," I said quietly. Then I laid down and closed my eyes.

"Ash?" He said softly.

"Yes?"

"I like it when you call me Louis, and not something like idiot or moron."

"And I like it when you call me Ash," I whispered, almost not wanting him to hear.

It took me while to settle, but it was undoubtedly easier with Louis there. I pondered the evening's events, thankful I'd escaped from that creep, Harry. No, wait, I'd been rescued. By Louis. A little smile crossed my face and I fell into a deep slumber, feeling safe with him watching over me.

* * * * *