“What happened?” she repeated.
“I didn’t have enough money for Marcus.” Through the haze of her high, Ev heard the faintest whispers of fear in her words.
Marcus was a nasty drug dealer. One of the worst in the city as far as she was concerned. If you didn’t pay him in money, he collected in blood or pimping you out. Since her sister was high as a kite, she figured he’d pimped her out.
Pity and disgust seemed to be all she felt for her lately, but more and more disgust was winning out. Hands down.
“Did he hurt you?” She didn’t dare say “again”. Who knew if Lace would be insulted or not, and if she were, then you could be damn sure Marcus would be, too.
“Just a small scratch.”
“When are you going to stop this, Lacey? When are you going to be a mother and not some crack whore?” Her temper got the best of her. Watching the way their mom had behaved, she didn’t know about her sister, but Ev vowed to never be like her. Nothing could force her to be that woman.
Stripping wasn’t the best way to avoid it, but she knew her limits. She didn’t let people push her around or dictate what she did or didn’t do. The club she worked in wasn’t the best, but it sure as hell wasn’t the worst either. The owner didn’t try and pimp his girls out. In fact, he didn’t allow drugs or sex anywhere near his place.
Six months ago, he’d made her the spotlight dancer—meaning she got the prime times of the night. Unfortunately, it also meant she had the handsiest customers around.
“Don’t be such a judgy bitch, Evelyn.” Lacey sneered her name like it was the dirt she walked on every day. “One day you’ll have your own fall from grace, and I’ll be there to remind you of this moment.”
Speechless, she led Andy off the bus as Lacey continued to rant about her imperfections. As they neared the apartment building they lived in, a black Escalade caught her eye, and she knew that Lacey and Marcus were inside.
“Where are you, Lacey?” she asked again more firmly.
“Up here, you dumb cow.” Looking up she saw Lacey hanging out of her bedroom window.
“Aunty Evie?” She’d nearly forgotten the little boy in her care.
Crouching down to him, she smiled, “Yeah, buddy?”
“Mommy said mean words.”
A sigh of utter despair left her cold. “Yeah. She did.” She couldn’t very well lie. He heard them. Standing again, they slowly made their way inside.
Dread crawled up her spine. Fear held her lungs in a tight grip. Loyalty made her step forward.
Casey had successfully hidden his night of drinking from Dom, but he was afraid Dee had seen right through his act. So when Dom said she had a friend she was worried about, he jumped on the helping bandwagon without thought.
Guilt wracked his soul for breaking the one thing Dom had asked for—his sobriety. He was terrified to tell his best friend that killing the woman who had no troubles in torturing his woman and harassing his son was eating at his soul. It was waking him with nightmares he wasn’t sure he could take much longer.
As soon as they entered the strip club, Dom went straight to the bar while he slowly began to wander. It wasn’t the classiest joint he’d been in, but the girls didn’t look strung out. Lights were dim, music was pounding, and he was suddenly held immobile as the most gorgeous creature he’d ever laid eyes on walked on stage.
He watched in fascination as the woman turned her back to the stage, raised her hands above her head, grabbing the pole with a tight grip and began to sway her hips back and forth seductively with every beat of the drum. His eyes were riveted to the way her hips moved as she slowly slid down the pole.
When she finally turned, his gaze travelled the front of her body, and he was instantly angry. Not with what she was doing but because she was basically nude. He discerned that from the back, of course, but the front, he could take in nearly everything. Small triangles of string—he couldn’t call it a top or even a bra it had so little material—covered her nipples, just the nipple. And panties that couldn’t even be categorized as that clearly showcased the outline of her tight, little pussy. One lift of her leg and the audience would see everything she had to offer.
What had him transfixed was her face. She was stunning no doubt about it, but the pleasure that was written in every line is what had him pinned. Her eyes were closed as she moved, with a small smile gracing her succulent red lips. She exuded confidence in every move. The straight lines of her legs as she twirled and swayed, almost floated across the stage were a sight to behold.
Her beauty shone through like the brightest twinkling stars. She was provocative in her dance but in a reserved way. In a way that left him breathless, left him wanting more. A quick look around the room told him he wasn’t the only one she held captive with her movements.
If he could describe her in three words, he’d say graceful, fluid, his. Mine? What the fuck? But the more he watched her, the more he knew he needed to learn everything about her. Why she danced. Why it gave her so much pleasure. Where had she learned to do the dip and twirl she just did that had him trying to gauge the reaction on her face again?
As the song came to an end, she gave a small bow before darting off stage and behind the dark curtain. Losing track of her, he watched the entrance the bouncer was at to see if she was like oth
er strippers and would come out to interact with her captive audience.
He stood there waiting for longer than he cared to admit when she finally appeared with some gauzy wrap thing tied around her. As he started to move forward, there was a small commotion from some drunk asshole thinking he could lay hands on her. He watched in rage as the same man crowded her against a wall while she struggled to get free. Before a bouncer could arrive, he was ripping the man off of her and plowing his fist in his face, instantly bloodying the man’s nose and knocking him on his ass.
Turning to her, he offered a hand to steady her shakiness. When she reached out to take it, he pulled her into his chest.