Deliciously Damaged (Reckless Bastards MC 3)

I suck.

“What are you doing home anyways? It’s Friday night! What happened to being a wildcat on the weekends?”

I laughed. “Well, my bank account is telling me to slow down and have a peanut butter and jelly kind of night in, instead.”

Bryce clucked his tongue. “Well, that’s just unacceptable. Come on out, Clay and I are going out and you just officially became our guest of honor for the evening!”

“Are you sure?” I asked, another sting of guilt at the idea of him buying me dinner.

“Yes, come on! Clay is always nagging me to introduce my friends to him anyways. Trust me, you’ll be doing me a favor.”

I finally caved, and he rattled off his address and I agreed to meet him in half an hour. I went about getting ready, and just as I was about to walk out the door, I had a moment of clarity and knew exactly what I needed to do.

Chapter Five

Saturday morning came too soon. The sunlight shining in from my window, glared down on my face as I lay sprawled across the bed. I rolled away from the window and opened my eyes, and as my eyes adjusted, a pit formed in my stomach at what lay ahead of me. Bryce and his boyfriend, Clay, had done their best to cheer me up the night before, but going out with them had actually made me feel worse about everything. We had gone to an upscale restaurant and had dinner and drinks. Nothing too fancy, but I still felt completely out of my element and wondered how I was ever going to get my life back on track. The whole night had led to some alcohol-induced pondering about what my track was even supposed to be anymore. I certainly didn’t feel like it would ever be working someplace like Spotlight again.

Somewhere in between the restaurant and getting home and collapsing into bed, I had made up my mind. The most immediate need was to get money coming in so I didn’t get evicted, and I only knew one sure-fire way to make that happen. I got out of bed and hurried to get ready, knowing that if I wanted a chance to make some money tonight, I needed to leave soon.

A little over an hour later, I pulled up on Cherry Bomb outside Marco’s, a so-called “gentleman’s club” in one of the seedier pockets of the city. I took in a deep breath and then hauled myself off of my bike. I took off my helmet and strode through the front doors, shoulders back, face tough. As soon as I stepped through the doors, I was instantly assaulted with memories from the past—when I’d worked here before. It had been well over a year since the last time I’d stepped foot in this place but it all rushed right back as if it had been yesterday.

The room was dark, even though it was the middle of the day. The few windows were blacked out with thick plastic pieces and neon colored LED lights were strung through…Marco had once told me it was for ambiance. I always thought our clients were a little bit like cockroaches—they didn’t like bright lights.

“Allie Cat? That you? Well, shit. Girl, whatcha doin’ here?”

Speak of the devil.

I turned at the sound and saw Marco striding across the room towards me. I plastered on my best smile and gave myself a brief mental pep talk as he approached. “Hello, Marco,” I said. “I came to talk to you, actually. I have a business proposition.”

“I’m listenin’,” he drawled, close enough that I could smell the liquor that was already on his breath.

“I’m looking for a part time gig,” I said, hurrying the words together in fear of chickening out if I stood there breathing in his stench any longer.

His face broke into a smile and he chuckled. “I knew you’d be back. When you flew out of here last time, going off half-cocked about your future, I knew it was only a matter of time. You’d show up again.”

His words sunk into my soul and I felt a new wave of panic welling up inside of me as he spoke. If I could have seen another way, I would have punched him in the throat and walked out, but I had wracked my brain, and this was the best way to get the money I needed to fix Cherry Bomb and save myself from eviction. I tried to force myself to focus on that, and not let Marco’s words drag me back into the dark pit I had spent so long climbing out of.

“It’s temporary,” I told Marco, my words short. “I only want three nights a week and you’re not getting a cut of my tips.”

He laughed. “Oh, Allie, sweet little Allie. That’s not how this works. What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll do full nudity.”

His eyes opened wide. In the past, I had firmly rejected full nudity, no matter how much he tried to coax me into doing it. But, if I wanted the rest of my terms, I knew I needed a bargaining chip. And judging by the look on his face, that was it.

“One more condition,” he said, trying to conceal his excitement. “You have to give me a dance, in the back room. I need to see you still got it.”

My eyes went wide with horror but I did my best to cover it with my best smile. “When?”

“Now’s as good a time as any. Whatcha say, Allie Cat? We got a deal?” He held out his hand and I shook it, gulping back my disgust as I followed him through the club and to his back office. I shuddered as I stepped through the doorway, knowing all the stories the girls had told me about what went on in the back room.

When I had worked at Marco’s before, it was when I had first moved to LA. Things in Kansas had gone sideways and I needed an escape. I packed up my clunker of a car and drove it across the country and ended up in LA with hardly any money, no friends, and no place to stay. I ended up using what little money I had to rent a room at a motel near the club. I had asked the motel manager about jobs in the area and he recommended I check with Marco. At first, I had been appalled and offended that he even suggested it, but then thought about it and decided I could be a waitress or something and still bring in some good money. Which is exactly what had happened. I started working the bar, made good tips, but all the guys were begging Marco to get me on stage. One night, after a few too many shots, I agreed and danced for the crowd in my bra and panties. I earned more that night than in a whole week working at the bar so I told Marco I would dance, but I wouldn’t strip more than that like some of the other dancers.

It had worked well, until I got sick of living at a shitty motel and wanted to move to the classier part of town. I saved and saved for my deposit, lined up my barista job, and gave my notice with Marco. He had been furious with me, as I was his most requested girl, but I stuck to my guns, left that day, and hadn’t looked back or regretted the choice ever since.

“Okay, show me what you got,” Marco said, taking his seat on a bench up against the wall of his dingy office. He held out a remote and some type of club music filled the room.

I set my helmet down on the ground and started to move to the music. I closed my eyes and danced for him for a minute, pretending I was in the shower, alone.