by Penn Rivers
But I wouldn’t let him down, and somehow, I knew he wouldn’t let me down either.
I watched a single tear fall over his cheek as he frowned down at me, still as a tree on a windless night.
“I think she’d want you to take that fan down from the ceiling so you don’t have to think about it anymore. And I think she’d want you to find happiness. Find a rainbow, ride that thing to the end, and land the biggest treasure imaginable. A family to love and love you. Friends who want the best for you. Your heart’s desire. Everything. Anything. I think she wants you to have all the things she could never give you. That’s what I think, Kane. No. That’s what I believe.”
And I did. With all my heart.
Kane said nothing, but the tension seemed to leak from his muscles. His breath came easier. His shoulders sagged like a weight had been lifted. Like he’d carried around a boulder for so long and magic had turned it into a feather in a blink of time.
He looked away, his throat moving with a hard swallow. “Maybe so, Gem. Maybe so.”
I brushed my own tears away and snuggled against Kane’s chest. His hand landed on my head, softly running along my hair. Somehow all the grief and pain was being sucked from the room, and I felt battle-weary. Like we’d fought for so long and finally found our victory.
And we laid in the bed, two people fractured by the past and patching things up so there’d be a possibility of a future.
We weren’t healed. Not yet. There was still Rafe to worry about, and my family to miss like hell. But the dead parts were exorcised, and now the new parts could grow in.
We were stripped.
Chapter Sixteen
GEMMA
The next day I stood nervously in the main room of the Sapphire, chewing the hell out of my nails while I waited for the meeting to start. The lights were turned up and it was filling with employees who’d come in before opening just for this. The dancers, wait staff, security, management. All the cogs that made the Sapphire run smoothly. They were all going to hear the truth about me.
I caught Vanillope strolling in the front door, leather mini-skirt, knee high boots, and cropped jacket that showed her midriff. She looked annoyed to be there. I wondered what she’d think when she learned I’d been hiding out like a criminal. Or that my name wasn’t exactly Gemma, and therefore had to rethink her nickname for me.
The name thing hadn’t thrown Kane the way I thought it would. He’d shrugged and said I was forever his Gem.
I found him across the room. His gaze was steady on me. Watching. Like he always was. He nodded once, encouraging me through the distance. This would work. It was the best way to keep me safe until we found a way to get Rafe off our backs for good.
The solution to that was illusive still. But I had faith we’d find a way.
For now, we had to tell everyone what we were up against, and hope like hell the group effort would keep Rafe from walking right into the club and doing the unspeakable.
The best way to fight your demons is to stop running, turn around, and face them.
Kane said that to me, like he’d been right inside my head for the running dream. Or maybe my subconscious mind had simply come to the same conclusion he did. In the dream, I never stopped running. Ran so much I found myself in the darkness, in the nothing, and still being chased.
You won’t be alone, Gem. I’ll be there with you. And others who care for you too. Trust them.
What did I have left to lose? I could run forever, hide forever. Or I could just stop.
And see what happened.
I’d been too afraid to try something like that before. But now I knew Sal and Marco, and especially Kane, were just waiting for an excuse to end Rafe. They’d wanted to hunt him down when I’d confessed to them what I’d shared with Kane yesterday. Sal was on his damn phone, already making calls. Not a killer-for-hire my ass.
But I couldn’t be responsible for the death of my son’s father. No matter how horrible he was.
Did I want him dead? Answer: it would make my life a hell of a lot simpler.
Did he deserve to be dead? Answer: a million times over. The people he’d hurt could fill up this room at the very least. He was a cancer upon society.
Could I look Noah in the eye knowing I’d caused it? Answer: never.
But I’d have no guilt to carry if he walked in here, looking for trouble.
The idea had me terrified. The mere thought of seeing him again, of the chance of feeling his fists again…
The ancient fear must’ve shown on my face because Kane frowned, straightening to walk over.
But Penelope beat him to it.
She leaned against the bar next to me, propping up on her elbows and giving the room a once over. “They paying us for this you think?”
“I hope so.”
She glanced at me, and I met her knowing gaze.
“You got any idea what this is all about, Gembo?”
I sucked in a breath. “Yeah. I got an idea.”
She narrowed her eyes, running her tongue over her teeth, debating how much to dig. But then decided against it, and stared back out at the crowd.
“Guess who I saw out in the parking lot?”
“Who?”
“That asshole from the other day. The silver fox from the Champagne room.”
I frowned. The Hannibal Lector wannabe. After his run-in with Kane, I hadn’t expected to see him back at the Sapphire.
“You in trouble, Gem? ‘Cause you should know I got your back. You’re the closest thing I have to a… well, you know… the eff word.”
I had to smile. There was only one F-word Vanillope was uncomfortable with.
“Aw, I consider you my friend too.”
“Shhhh!” She turned to glare at me before glancing around to see if anyone had overheard. “Don’t be throwing that around all willy nilly, okay? People will start to think things about me. Like that I have a heart. And that I care.”
I smirked, laughing at her ridiculous concerns. “Pretty sure your cover’s already blown.”
She went back to lounging on the bar. “You think?”
“I do.”
“Well, damn,” she sighed. “Time to exercise my bitch face, I guess. Bitchify it up. Get it up to ultimate bitchosity. Don’t need people thinking I’m soft. Ruins the whole experience.”
“What experience?”
“Why, the Penelope Dove experience of course. What else?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re a whole ‘experience’ now?”
“What is this ‘now’ thing? I’ve always been an experience. Damn, Gembo. Do I need to remind you about my tit? I have a fucking party tit. Meaning my tits are never fully calm. And I don’t know how you measure things, but anyone with a party tit is a fucking experience in my book.” She pulled a cigarette from between her cleavage and lit it, drawing in a long puff before adding, “You should think about getting yourself one. A party tit, that is.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Marco interrupted with a sharp whistle to get everyone’s attention. He and Sal and Kane stood up front by the stage looking like a modern version of the Three Musketeers… body-builder edition. And more brutal. There was probably a more appropriate comparison, but my mind couldn’t think of it at the moment.
“I’ll get the first thing out of the way, because I know you guys are wondering,” Marco drawled. “Yes. For fuck’s fucking sake. You will be paid for this meeting. You’ll see the teeny fifteen-minute bonus on your next check, okay?”
There was some laughing, murmurs of appreciation.
“Damn straight,” Penelope called. “Gotta pay mama for her time.”
Marco gave her a longsuffering look. “Now that we’re clear on that, I need you to listen up. Kanaan has some security shit to work out. And I swear to fuck, if you don’t pay the utmost attention to this, I’ll be tying your balls-slash-nipples up afterward.”
“Oh, no,” Penelope murmured, her eyes wide and mocking. “I don’t think I kn
ow what utmost attention is. Good thing I’m down with that nipple kink.”
Jake stood close to the front, but his head swung around to gawk at her. She shot him a wink while Marco looked like he wanted to strangle her… in a friendly way. Sorta.
“I’m serious,” he growled. “This threat pertains to one of our own, and I want to know that this club will have her fucking back. If any of you can’t handle that, then walk out that door right now.”
Penelope straightened, tossing a concerned glance at me. I’d never seen her so serious. In fact, she looked like she’d been sucker-punched. “Gem,” she hissed. “What is this?”
Kane cleared his throat, and held up an 8x10 photo of Rafe.
“Look closely, and remember this face. This man is who we’re watching for. Rafael “Rafe” Carlson. A drug running motherfucker from Houston. Highly dangerous, and looking for a fight. Ladies, if you see him, report to security immediately. My guys…” He looked directly at Jake, then at the other bouncers. “This asshole steps one fucking toe on this property, you take him down hard. Understand? He will likely have others with him. But you get him. Hear me?”
The security team nodded. Several murmured, “Got it, boss.”
“You said this guy was after one of our own,” Jake asked.
He looked as furious as the others. It made me wonder how many of them were working here to make amends, just like Kane was. Had Marco stacked the deck with men like him, who wanted to protect women?
Kane scratched his jaw, passing the picture of Rafe to the nearest bouncer, who got a good look at it before shuffling it to the next person.
“This man is after Gemma.” His eyes met mine as heads twisted to see me.
I stared at the floor so I wouldn’t have to look at them while I said the rest.
“He’s a beater, among other things. He landed me in the hospital twice before I could escape him over a year ago, and I’ve been hiding from him ever since,” I explained for the third time in two days. And again, it threatened to choke me up. “Laying low, working hard. Trying not to have to run again. But somehow, he found me here. And now he wants to take my son away… or worse. I don’t know.”
“Motherfucker,” Penelope spat, smashing her cigarette out in the nearby ashtray. “I see that dickhead around here, he’s getting a stiletto in the eye. Just putting that out there. Bastard.”
She paced the small space beside me, her boots clacking against the polished floor, and I wanted to hug her for how angry she was on my behalf. I’d never had an F-word like her before.
I found the courage to look around, but people had turned their attention back to Kane, nodding furiously. Many of them seeming as angry as Penelope was. Maybe Kane was right. Maybe I had more people that cared in the club than I realized. Even Marcie looked like a mama bear ready to strike. And little Eleanor sat on top of the bar, fists clenched. When the picture reached her, she stared at it with a sneer before passing it on.
Maybe the Sapphire really was one big family. You fucked with one of us, you fucked with all of us. Sure, there were a few that needed weeding out. Rhino, to speak of, for what he’d let happen to Eleanor. But every family was a work in progress, wasn’t it?
I suddenly felt a ton more safer in the place that had become my second home. Kane had known this was how it would go. I’d been terrified to come to work, but he’d known. Rafe couldn’t come in here, looking for me, and get away with it. He’d have the whole club to answer to.
“All right,” Marco said, clapping his hands together once. “We open in ten. Let’s go. Be safe tonight. And make me much money, yeah?”
Murmuring filled the air as the crowd broke up, everyone taking to their different jobs and preparing for a long night of selling lust.
As I crossed the room with Penelope, heading for the dressing room, Kane gave me a look that was pure ownership. We’d spent all of Sunday learning more of each other. We had a lot of time to make up for. Six months of watching each other from afar, wanting to close that distance but both thinking it was impossible.
Now it was possible. And we’d done a lot of making up yesterday.
Like… I’d learned just how wicked Kane’s tongue could be when he was using it between my legs. And he’d learned that the stage wasn’t the only place I could work my hips. I’d seen his sweet slow side, and his furious fuck-me-hard side, and both drove me crazy. He’d watched me ride him like a bronco—backward and forward—and I gave him my ass because it was a piece of me no other man had ever had.
Kane was a virgin no longer.
Coincidentally, neither was my ass.
And I wasn’t afraid to be his. For him to call me mine. Because I knew being his meant I’d never face my demons alone.
His look turned into one of warning. Be careful.
I nodded, and hurried down the hall after Penelope.
In the dressing room, ladies were in all sorts of half-dressed states, preparing for work. Marcie stood with her clipboard, furiously scribbling on the schedule.
“Gem, you’re second up for the stage,” she called. “Penelope, you’re first. Eleanor… Sal wants you on the bar again. Take note, he doesn’t want you behind it. He wants you dancing on the actual fucking bar. Said we were trying something new.” She pursed her lips wryly, but continued calling out jobs.
When she was finished, and heading for the stage door, I stopped her.
“I don’t have the tax money this week. So you’ll need to put me down for the private list.”
Her gaze flickered away and back. “Your tax is paid already.”
I frowned at that. “Who paid it?”
“An anonymous donor,” she said sarcastically.
“I don’t understand.”
She dragged me away, out of the hearing of others. “Say a word about this, and I’ll double your tax, understand me?”
I nodded, still not understanding.
“I’m waiving your tax tonight. You’re safer out front, on the stage with more eyes on you. Until we figure out what this asshole is up to, that’s where you’ll stay. Understand?”
I felt my eyes go wide. Marcie cared. Something about the way the veteran dancer’s eyes shifted away and couldn’t hold mine for more than a second told me there was something that hit deep there.
“You did the same thing for Eleanor, didn’t you? You put her on the bar.”
“Sal did that,” Marcie sniffed.
“Maybe it was his idea, but you encouraged him. You did, didn’t you?”
“I don’t have to explain myself.” She stared back down at her clipboard like she was too busy for this nonsense. “I don’t like my girls getting hurt. And I don’t like assholes who hurt them. So… you know… you should pass that message on to your new man. I don’t even care if he’s the boss-bouncer. I’ll eat his balls for breakfast if he fucks up.”
And with that, she spun for the stage door, and was through it before I could open my mouth to answer.
***
The music boomed in my ears, a seductive popping beat that lit up the nearly full club like a burst of flame. The lights were sexy. Blues and purples that gave the Sapphire its name switched out with oranges and reds that made the lust-filled customers feel like they were in some seedy porno. Like they were the star. And I… I was the object of their infatuation.
I swirled my hips, grinding obscenely on the pole center stage. I was working up to taking my top off, but I needed them tossing bills at me first. You never showed the goods without proper payment.
Strutting down the stage, I put enough effort into it to make everything that should jiggle, jiggle. The boys liked bouncy.
Bending to give the hooting customers a nice shot of my thong-clad ass, I looked between my legs and spotted Kane watching from near the bar. It reminded me of our time in the Champagne room, and that made me want to dance just for him.
I was getting turned on. Again. This dancing with him around to watch was getting dangerous.
I
flipped up, tossing my hair over my shoulders, and found him again over the blur of random faces. His gaze narrowed, but I continued popping my hips and running my hands over my body. A smirk played at his lips, small, but I noticed. And then he looked away, seeming embarrassed.
Aw. Did I just make my man blush?
I had a feeling he’d make me pay for that later.
Turning to strut my way to the other side of the stage, my eye caught on a figure that stood out in the crowd. Tall man, thinner than I remembered Rafe being. Ballcap low on his forehead, obscuring his face. He stood in the center of the gathering near the stage. But what caught my attention wasn’t any of that. It was that he stood perfectly still in a sea of people who were bopping along to the music while I danced. It was a popular song, and there wasn’t a person who wasn’t singing, or attempting to. Or at the very least, catcalling.
Except for this man.
I kept up my act, moving in closer to the stage edge, so I could get a clearer look. Surely, the men at the door would have recognized Rafe if he’d tried to get in.
I dipped my thumb beneath the waist of my thong, inching it lower right in front of my pussy, as if they’d get a peek at it soon, and rippled my hips until they were slobbering.
But not him.
Not the man in the ballcap.
I kept my eyes on him, as I returned to the pole and continued to work the crowd into a frenzy. The longer he stood there, staring, stiller than a statue, the more uncomfortable I became. And somehow, I felt he could sense it. Like he could feel me closing up before them, while everyone else seemed preoccupied with my body.
It must have emboldened him, because on my next spin, he removed his cap.
And the world fell out from beneath my feet in one fell breath.
Rafe.
He’d changed. He was less bulky and had shaved every bit of his long dark hair off. The trimmed goatee he’d had in Kane’s 8x10 was gone. That and being bald made him almost unrecognizable. But I’d know that hateful, brutal stare anywhere. The eyes which screamed I’ve got you, bitch. The cruel curve of his lips that reminded me what he’d do if he caught me away from all these people. But something that was new… was the crazed glint to his gaze. The little spark of manic that said I’ve got. Nothing. To. Lose.
