by Nicole York
“What?”
“You deserve to be happy too. It’s not one thing or the other. You can be who you are and not have to be alone.”
“Fuck, Kate, don’t get all sentimental on me now or—”
“You should go get her.”
He paused. Go get her?
“I’m not that guy,” he said. And he meant it. He didn’t go chasing after women. He was the kind of man who saw what he wanted and took it. He didn’t go seeking it out. He didn’t go running off into the night to ask her to care about him. To appease her worries.
“Saying you want something—or someone—doesn’t make you weak. Staying on the sidelines does. I know you.” She moved in close, released his hands, and put one of her hands on his chest, just beside the bullet wound. “I will always know you. And I know you hold back because you think you don’t deserve these things. But you trust me, don’t you?”
More than anybody I know. “Yes,” he said.
“Then believe the things I’m saying to you. This girl cares about you. And you care about her. That’s all that matters. Do not waste any more of your life having conversations in your own head about what you can and cannot have. For once, just fucking try, Marcus. Like you tried with me. You walked into an underground lair to square off with Adam fucking Cooper tonight. What makes you think you can’t take another shot at love?”
Marcus closed his hand over hers. Her fingers were small and dainty, and her wedding ring pressed gently against his palm. He smiled. “The normal life has made you soft, Katie girl.”
A rush of pride rolled over him. This was all he had ever wanted for her. She escaped the hardness and the brutality of the life he loved—and the life she hated. She had become the woman he always knew she was deep down and who she was born to be.
Kate stretched to the tips of her toes, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to his cheek in a soft kiss. “I could still kick your ass if I wanted to.”
24
Keesha
Keesha lost track of time as she stood under the hot water of the shower in her mother’s bathroom. She’d turned the showerhead to the strongest setting, and four rapid jets of water pelted into her back, two on her shoulders, two on either side of her spine at her middle back. The pressure was exquisite as she stared at her feet in the white tub.
The water had finally begun to run clear.
After leaving Marcus’s apartment, she had thought she washed all the blood off of her, but she’d been wrong. It was still all over her. She found it on the back of her elbows, in her hair, the side and back of her neck, her stomach, her chest—everywhere. She scrubbed vigorously with her mother’s orchid-scented body wash three times over before she finally felt clean.
Even then, she didn’t want to step out of the water.
It washed away the lingering fear of the night and all the self-doubt that had come crashing down on her when she left Marcus’s apartment.
When her mother knocked on the bathroom door, Keesha finally turned off the water.
“Keesha? Are you okay in there?”
Her mother hadn’t seen the blood, and Keesha had hidden her clothes under her bed in her mother’s guest room. She’d throw it away tomorrow when her mother wouldn’t see. She couldn’t risk that. Her mother would have a heart attack.
“I’m okay, Mom,” she called over the hum of the bathroom fan. “I’ll be out in a couple minutes.”
“Okay.” Renee’s voice was uncertain.
What was Keesha going to tell her? She had no intentions of telling her the truth. That was for damn sure. Maybe she didn’t have to say anything. Maybe she could sweep it all under the rug.
Good luck.
Keesha fetched a plush white towel from where it hung on the rack outside the shower. She pulled the curtain all the way open and stood in the cool air, letting some of the droplets on her skin run all the way down her legs to the tub. When she was chilled, she started drying off.
She stepped over the edge of the tub and wiggled her toes in the light gray bath mat. It was soft and warm. Once she was dry, she wrapped the towel around herself and went to the steamed bathroom mirror. She dragged her hand across it, wiping away the fog, revealing her raw self, makeup free.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
A few minutes later, Keesha left the solitude of the bathroom and found her mother making tea in the kitchen. It was close to five in the morning.
“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Keesha said softly.
Renee dropped two English breakfast teabags into her mint green teapot with gold flowers all over it. She lifted the lid and poured boiling water from the kettle into it. “I wasn’t sleeping well anyway.” Renee set the kettle down, put the lid back on the teapot, and faced her daughter. “Did something happen tonight? You sounded unlike yourself on the phone.”
“I…” Keesha trailed off. How could she put any of this into words? How could she capture what she was feeling without scaring the living daylights out of her mother? How could she spare herself and her family the fear she’d experienced tonight?
“Yes?” Renee pressed.
Keesha found her resolve. “I made a decision.”
“Okay.”
“I’m going to quit stripping.”
Renee’s eyes widened in surprise. “You are?”
Keesha nodded. “Yes. Tonight was a bad night. I don’t want to get into it. I didn’t get hurt. Nothing bad happened.” A lie. Sometimes, those were necessary. What was she supposed to tell her mother, that she’d been kidnapped at gunpoint and dragged six stories underground and used as leverage for a mafia deal? Yeah right. “But it was a wakeup call. I don’t want this in my life, and I definitely don’t want it in Beth’s. It’s time that I make a change.”
Renee moved away from the counter and threw her arms around her daughter in a tight embrace. “If you need to talk about what happened—”
“Mom?”
Renee stroked Keesha’s wet hair. “Yes, sweetheart?”
“I might talk about it but not tonight. Okay?”
“Okay. Okay, that’s fine. Whenever you’re ready. If you’re ready.” Renee pulled away. “Why don’t you go put some warm clothes on? I’ll pour us our tea and we can sit in the living room for a bit? Then you can get some sleep?”
Keesha nodded. That sounded lovely. Her mind was still racing and she needed to wind down. The caffeine in the tea might not help, but spending some time on the sofa with her mother like she used to certainly would.
As Keesha made her way down the hall to the guest room where some of her clothes still sat neatly folded in the dresser or hung in the closet, she felt a sense of peace creeping into her heart.
She returned to the living room in a pair of light gray sweats and an oversized white sweatshirt with sleeves that were too long for her. She’d rolled them up to her elbows. Her mother brought out two cups of tea, both served in matching floral-printed cups, and the two women sat down on the sofa, sitting the same way with their legs curled up under them.
“I love you,” Renee said.
Keesha’s heart swelled and her eyes filled with tears. “I love you too, Mom.”
Renee smiled warmly and reached over. They held hands. “It’s going to be hard for a while. Starting fresh always is. But I’m here for you and Beth. Whatever you need, okay? We did it once before. We can certainly do it again. But this time, you’re not alone.”
Keesha nodded as the tears fell freely. “Thank you.”
Renee stood up and sat down in the middle cushion. She wrapped an arm around her daughter, who leaned into her embrace and cried into her shoulder. Renee rubbed her back until the emotions were out. They sat quietly and sipped their tea until Keesha’s hair was dry and the sun was streaming through the sheer white curtains on the living-room window.
“You should get some sleep,” Renee said.
“Just a few more minutes,” Keesha whispered.
Renee smiled. “As many as you need.”
Keesha slept most of Sunday away and her mother spent the day with Beth. When Keesha got up around four o’clock, she was delighted to find both her mother and daughter in the kitchen making muffins. Keesha joined them, and the rest of the evening was spent indulging in quality family time—something Keesha hadn’t realized she missed so much.
Memories of the previous night still plagued her but not as terribly as she’d expected. Perhaps it was because she didn’t feel alone. Perhaps it was because she knew she was going to leave Kadia.
Or perhaps it was because she’d changed.
She felt different now, more sure of herself. She felt steady and confident, just like she did when she was on the pole at the club. Except now, that confidence had merged with her daily life.
She felt like Keesha.
So when Monday morning rolled around, she decided not to call in sick for her shift at Bloom. She had no intention of staying at the salon because quitting Kadia meant she had to find something that would provide more income, but she needed the job to get her from point A to point B. She and her mother had spoken about her moving into the guest room at her condo until she could get back on her feet again. For now, it seemed like the smartest move to make. She’d save money on rent and utilities and she’d have built-in childcare for Beth while she managed working at Bloom and job hunting.
It wouldn’t be easy, but it was the right call.
Keesha started her shift at Bloom with her usual routine of fluffing towels, cleaning the floors, and prepping the salon for the day. She enjoyed the solitude. There was nobody there to tell her what to do, nobody to take up space in her mind. She was content with her thoughts even though they continuously wandered back to the events of Saturday night.
And in turn, Kate.
Even though she knew she wanted out of Kadia and she wanted to start a new path, she also knew she didn’t want to lose Marcus.
But you probably already have, she thought sourly.
She pushed thoughts of Marcus out of her head. When she went into Kadia this week, she would sit down with him and tell him she was done with the club. She would tell him she was sorry, but she needed to choose a better path for Beth, and if she didn’t start now, she never would.
It would be hard to walk away from the money. It would be harder to walk away from the man she loved.
Either way, it was the right call.
Besides, she’d been more grief to him than she was worth, hadn’t she? She’d disrupted operations in his club, disobeyed his orders, had her brother come in barking orders, and ruined things for Marcus where Adam Cooper was concerned.
Hell, she’d probably ruined things for more than just Marcus on that front.
The mundane rituals of the salon were a nice reprieve from the chaos of the weekend. When Lilah arrived for her shift, Keesha felt even more at ease and the pair of them sipped coffees in the back room while they chatted about things that didn’t matter, like Lilah’s crush on one of her brother’s friends who she’d met at a party a week and a half ago and hadn’t stopped thinking about.
“He’s really cute,” Lilah gushed. “And so not my type.”
“I thought you were seeing someone?”
Lilah laughed lightly and blew on her hot coffee. “Oh, I am. But all of this can’t be for just one man. Not until I’ve deemed him worthy, of course. I need to keep my options open. I don’t have a big, strong, rugged bad boy breathing down my neck like someone I know.”
Keesha didn’t have the stomach to tell her how things had taken a turn for her and Marcus, so she just smiled. “Maybe that’s because in your scenario, you’re the bad girl.”
Lilah pumped her eyebrows. “I like that.”
Both women laughed.
Ricky stepped into the back room wearing a big grin and a pink and purple striped shirt tucked into his tight jeans. His aviators were still on and the gold frames matched the chain around his neck that disappeared under the open third button of his shirt.
“What are you two giggling about back here?” Ricky cracked his knuckles and looked back and forth between them.
Lilah flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Girl stuff, Ricky. You know. The usual.”
“Bullshitting about periods and PMS and shaving then?”
Barf. Ricky was such an ass.
Lilah arched a dark, perfectly groomed eyebrow. “No.”
He waved her off, completely missing the dark undertones in her voice. “Girl talk. I’ll never understand it.” He turned to Keesha. “Can I speak with you for a minute?”
Keesha looking imploringly at Lilah, who checked her watch. “Sorry, babe. I have to get going. My first appointment will be here any second and I haven’t even set up my chair yet.”
Keesha watched her friend leave the back room. As soon as Lilah was gone, the walls felt like they were pressing in on her. Ricky brushed past her to stand by the exit and leaned against the doorframe, blocking her view of the rest of the shop and making her feel even more isolated.
Was she hyper aware because of what had happened on the weekend? Was she going to feel like this around all men now?
Or just Ricky?
“When are we going to stop playing this little game of cat and mouse, Keesha?”
She hated how he said her name, like her name alone was already his. Ricky ran the fingers of one hand over the knuckles of the other while he studied her. His gaze was cool and calm. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d been thinking about this conversation over and over again in that little pea-sized brain of his.
“What game?” She knew he wouldn’t like this question. She knew suggesting she didn’t know what he was talking about would get under his skin.
“Don’t play coy with me.” Ricky’s eyes moved up and down her body and she was glad she’d dressed rather conservatively today. Her jeans and loose floral blouse made it hard for him to follow the lines of her curves. She hadn’t been up to dressing in tight clothes today. She just wanted to be comfortable. She needed space to breathe. “You know what I’m talking about. I look at you, and you look away. I catch the way you smile at me. I catch how you tease me.”
Keesha blinked in surprise. “Tease you?”
“That ass? Those tits? I know why you show them off. You want me to look.”
“Excuse me?”
Ricky left the doorway and stepped toward her. “I don’t want to wait anymore. Let’s just do this damn thing. Today. We can use the bathroom. Hell, I can take you out to my car, baby. Have you ever fucked in the backseat of a Mercedes?”
Keesha stared incredulously at him. Was this happening? Today, of all days, was the day Ricky the dickwad was going to come on to her like this?
Something hot started to burn in her chest.
Ricky reached out and put a hand on her hip. “Come on, baby. What do you say? I’ve been aching to know what you’re hiding under your clothes. Feel me. I’m fucking hard for you all the time.”
“Take your hand off me.”
He chuckled deeply. “I like a girl who thinks she’s the boss. Tell me what to do. I dare you.”
The burn in her chest spread to her mind, and Keesha fought for control against herself.
Why?
Why was she holding back?
I’m scared.
Was that true? Was she afraid of this guy?
She studied him.
No.
She wasn’t afraid of a salon owner with delusions of how attractive and successful he was. She wasn’t afraid of him in his pink and purple pinstripe suit with his curly chest hair and knockoff aviators.
She’d been to Hell and back this weekend and lived to tell the tale. She’d given birth. She’d gotten out of an abusive relationship. She’d trusted herself enough to love again, to get hurt again, and to keep going. She’d become a better mother. She’d stood up to men like Adam Cooper and the likes of him at Kadia.
Ricky was picking on the wrong woman.
“Ricky,” she sai
d firmly, “take your fucking hand off of me right this minute or I’m going to kick you so hard in your fucking nuts they come out your mouth.”
Ricky’s eyes widened. His hand fell from her hip.
Keesha took a menacing step forward and dimly wished she’d worn a pair of high pumps to work instead of her flat ankle boots. They’d have made her a quarter-inch taller than him.
“Now you listen to me, you pathetic little man,” she spat. “I am not here for you to stare at all day and get hard-ons over. None of these girls are. And none of them want you. Especially me. You’re a slimy, sleazy, hideous man with nothing to offer except shitty pickup lines and misogynistic comments.”
He stammered. “Where do you get off talking to me like this, you—”
“I’m not fucking finished,” she barked. The salon had gone quiet and she knew all the stylists were listening now. With any luck, a few customers had arrived and they were getting a show, too. “Never put your hand on another woman like this, do you hear me? We do not want to be touched. We do not want to be ogled, especially by our boss. Your job is to write our paychecks. That’s it. You are a weak, pathetic, embarrassing, sexist little prick. Does it make you feel big and tough to corner me in the back room like this? Huh? Is this how you get your kicks?”
Ricky was backing away now, but Keesha refused to relent. She went after him, jabbing him in the chest as she delivered blow after blow. Every word out of her mouth lifted her up. She felt strong, stronger than she’d felt in a long time.
When she was done, her face was red and her voice was shaking. She shook her head. “I’m done with you and I’m done with this place. I quit.”
Ricky didn’t have words. Keesha turned, grabbed her mug of coffee, and went to put it in the sink. She thought better of it, spun back to him, and tossed the remaining half of her coffee in his face.
Ricky sputtered.
Out front in the salon, Lilah cheered.
Keesha collected her purse and her jacket, slung them both over her shoulder, and marched out of the back room and to the front doors. She stopped before she left and turned to face the women, who were all staring at her with their mouths hanging open. “If you need me to come back and set him straight again, you know where to reach me.”
