Here's a brief overview of the story:
If she’d stayed any longer, her husband would have killed her.
Desperate to escape his drug-induced brutality, wealthy socialite Marcia Hadley disappears from Santa Barbara, California and flees to Atlantic City, New Jersey. She’s sold everything she can, rents a seedy inner city apartment and attempts to disappear as Dani Reynolds, cocktail waitress at Frenzy, a neighborhood nightclub.
Taylor Villanova, the club’s sexy bouncer recognizes her naiveté and volunteers to teach her about surviving and thriving in the inner city. Fearful and suspicious of men, Dani is at first repelled by Taylor’s violent profession yet drawn to the compassionate nature that contradicts his macho persona. But when her well-laid plans go awry, and Dani discovers someone is following her, she must put her complete trust in him.
Her time is running out …
When Marcia Hadley opened her eyes, she was crumpled in a heap in the corner of the kitchen. The stillness of the house echoed in her ears.
She struggled to focus before her blurred vision drifted down to the front of her blouse.
The pounding inside her head sent her fingers up to the contusion rising on her temple.
I must’ve hit my head on something when I fell.
But her head wasn’t bleeding. The slow trickle came from a gash across the base of her neck. The horror of what he’d done to her rendered her immobile. She remained crumpled in the corner of the kitchen until her thoughts became clearer. Her shaking hands fumbled overhead for a dishtowel from the drawer. She pressed it to her neck. After a couple of minutes she hooked her fingers over the edge of the counter and forced her weak legs to stand. Seconds later the contents of her stomach boiled over into the sink.
The retching finally stopped. She splashed cold water on her face and neck and limped down the hall to the bathroom to check the wound in the mirror. The bleeding had tapered off. It looked like a superficial flesh wound. She willed her hands to be still long enough to mix some peroxide and water, dabbed the slash and covered it with Band-Aids. Her legs had gained enough strength to carry her into the master suite where she stripped off her blood-splattered clothes. She sat on the edge of their California king-size bed rocking with her arms folded across her aching middle. How had her life turned into this nightmare? Why hadn’t she kept her mouth shut?