In our way of life, all we have is our brotherhood and loyalty, and he took that and shit on it. Fucker deserves so much more, but to make things easier on us, we decided to make it quick for him.
Coughing, T-Bone lifts his head to look at us with acceptance in his eyes. No fear or anger. He knows what he did and what’s to come. He won’t beg for his life or for our forgiveness. It’s too late for that.
“I’m sorry, brother,” he whispers through cracked lips.
Bear holds up his hand, silencing him, though I don’t think he was going to say more.
“I don’t want your bullshit apology. You could’ve come to us, told us what was goin’ on. But instead, you chose some piece of shit over brotherhood. It’s too late for ‘sorrys,’ but there’s one thing you can do. It won’t save your life or renew your status, but it will help those that you’ve betrayed.”
Bear steps closer, and now has a look of sadness on his face. It is sad, though. We’re losing a brother tonight, no matter the reason behind it or the way of it, we are forced to say good-bye.
“Did you warn Georgie that Torq was comin’ for him?” Bear asks, but before he can answer, he adds, “And if you ever felt anything for our brotherhood, you will not lie.”
T-Bone stares off into space for a moment, then looks at Bear. “No. I swear, I never said anything to him. But, I do know he was there that night. I don’t know if you missed him or if he spotted you before you spotted him, but he should have been there.”
I’m not sure if it’s wise, but I believe him.
Nodding, Bear backs away, pulls his pistol from his belt and levels it at T-Bone’s head. He doesn’t look away, but stares past the barrel, right into his president’s eyes.
“I’ll see you in Hell, T-Bone,” Bear says, then pulls the trigger, taking the life of a once friend and brother.
Chapter Nine
Angel
After walking away from Dominic—or Torq, if I go off the name on his vest—I head back into the dressing room to wait for Amy to be finished for the night.
No one asks me who the request came from, and I’m thankful. I didn’t feel like talking at all, let alone talking about him.
Amy was quiet when she finished with her final dance, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask her what was wrong. It could’ve been that she was just tired.
“You ready to go?” she asks, without looking me in the eyes.
“Yeah.” I grab my stuff and walk out behind her with my head down the whole way outside. I don’t hear anything besides the regular chatter and music of the bar. I hope Dominic’s gone. What would I do if he was still here? Would he stop me? Probably not, after the way I blew him off. There was no recognition in his eyes when I asked him if he knew who I was. But that’s probably a good thing, for both of us.
Once outside, Leroy ushers us to a cab, pays the driver to take us home and wishes us a good night. Neither Amy or I say anything, but I do try to give him a thankful smile, though I’m not sure if I succeed or not.
The ride to our apartment complex is strained, and it makes me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know if it’s just me or if something happened for Amy to be putting off weird vibes, but I can’t stop thinking about it, for which I’m glad. Maybe it would be a better idea to try to talk to her now, figure out what’s going on. At least it would keep my mind and thoughts busy so I don’t think about Dominic’s sexy face, or the way he looked at me with so much lust and want.
I wait until we’re in the hallway to say anything. She goes to her door, which is out of the norm for her. Usually, we both gravitate to one door or the other, but tonight, it’s like she just wants to be alone.
“Are you okay?” I ask, suddenly feeling guilty. Maybe she’s more upset about earlier than I originally thought. I know I was distant and she felt like I was ignoring her, but she wouldn’t have understood. All these feelings I have coursing through me are confusing, and I have no idea how to sort them out.
Dominic makes me mad and want to smile at the same time. He makes me feel weak but grateful, to have him to protect me. I feel passion toward him, sometimes more than what I feel about dancing, and that scares the hell out of me.
“I’m just tired. I think I’ll just go to bed tonight.” She opens her door, but I can’t let her leave without knowing if she’s really okay.
“Amy, wait.” I grab her arm and turn her to face me. “I’m sorry about earlier. I saw someone in the crowd tonight, someone I knew before coming here. I was just thrown that he was there, ya know?” I explain, not stopping to think about what I’m telling her. I know she will want to know more, but right now, I’ll gladly tell her everything if it means she won’t hate me.
She doesn’t seem completely convinced, but she doesn’t look as distant anymore.
“We’re friends, right?” she asks. The question throws me.
“What? Of course we are.”
“Then why didn’t you just tell me that? I mean, that’s huge, right?”
She’s right. I should have told her about it, but she doesn’t know anything about what brought me here. I saw this as being a fresh start, not wanting to bring up the ghosts of my past. I didn’t expect one to come walking into my workplace.
“I know, and I’m sorry. But I want to tell you about it now, all of it.” I just hope she still wants to listen. Heck, maybe she’ll be able to shed some light on what I’m feeling to me.
Grabbing my hand, she leads me into her apartment and right to her couch. Plopping down, I wait for her as she sets a tea kettle on the stove before grabbing a bottle of rum out of the cupboard. She’s quiet while she makes the tea, though it’s not like it takes long since she doesn’t boil the water completely before placing a teabag into the cup and pouring in some rum.
I’m a little nervous as she brings me a cup because I’ve never really drank alcohol before. I’ve had a few sips of wine I managed to sneak behind my parents’ back, but nothing hard like rum.
Laughing a little as she hands it to me, she says, “Don’t worry, I didn’t put that much in there. Just enough to relax us.”
Still a little unsure, I take a small sip. I can taste a little bit of bite, but other than that, it tastes like regular tea. “This is really good,” I tell her, happy that I didn’t chicken out. I may have to have her buy me some rum too so I can make this at my place.
“Okay, spill the beans.” And I do. I tell her about how I grew up and the things I went through. I told her about the plans my parents made for me and how they didn’t care about what I wanted. I then told her how I met Dominic, how I lied for him, and the things he said that night. I explained how all of that led me here, meeting her, and seeing him again.
I tell her how I felt and still feel, and how he didn’t even realize who I was.
After I fill her in on everything, I wait for her to tell me what she thinks I should do now.
“Wow.” That’s it. That’s all she’s got for me.
Taking a sip of my tea, needing the liquid to moisten my throat after talking for so long, I feel the liquor starting to hit me a little. I don’t feel drunk, only a little tired, which is probably a mix of actually being tired and the rum.
“Yeah.”
Holding her tea up to her lips, she blows on it absentmindedly. Finally taking a sip, she puts her cup down on the coffee table in front her, then levels me with a serious look.
“Do you like him?” she asks. With everything I’ve told her, that’s what she decides to ask? Not if I miss my parents—which I don’t—or why I felt I needed to lie to the police? She gets right down to the nitty gritty.
I’m unsure of how to answer that question. I barely know the man, so I can’t really explain how I feel about him.
Seeing my struggle, she changes tactics. “What are you thinking right this second?”
“I’m thinking he’s annoy
ing and insufferable. I’m thinking he’s sexy and I want to spend time with him. But then I think that I don’t want to talk to him or be near him because of how he feels about me. After what he said to me and walked away, I shouldn’t want those things, ya know?”
Smiling knowingly, she says, “You like him.”
“No! Not really,” I yell a little too loudly, which only makes her smile bigger.
“But you are attracted to him,” she smirks, wagging her eyebrows.
I wish I could dispute that last remark, but unfortunately, I think she’s right. I am attracted to him. I only wish I wasn’t. I don’t even know what to do with this attraction. I’ve never felt this way before about anyone, not even the boys in my school. Sure, a few of them were cute, but nothing compared to Dominic.
“Ugh, what do I do?” I need her advice something fierce. I’m so new to all this stuff. I’ve never even kissed a boy. But a man like Dominic, he’s surely kissed lots of girls and done a whole lot more. Raw sexual vibes come off him like a hurricane. There’s no way a guy like him would be interested in a girl like me. I’m way too inexperienced.
“Well, first, I think you need to tell him who you are.” I was afraid she’d say that.
“Or, I could not tell him and just move forward as Angel,” I counter. Wouldn’t things be better if he didn’t know I was the lame girl he met a month ago? The preacher’s daughter?
“Oh no. You have to tell him. Otherwise, anything that starts from here would be a lie. And you don’t want to lie, do you?” I know she’s right. I just wish she wasn’t.
“I don’t know how to tell him. I’ll feel stupid, reminding him that I’m the girl he had to save, the preacher’s daughter, in barely there clothing. He was disgusted with me then, but he’ll laugh at me now. It’ll devastate me, Amy.”
Reaching out her hand, she holds mine in hers. “Look, honey, the last thing I believe he’ll do is laugh at you. I mean, look at you! I know you’re scared, but it’ll be as easy or hard as you make it. You don’t have to make a big deal out of it, really. Next time he tries to talk to you, tell him who you are. Ask if he remembers you. Get it out of the way first thing, then you’ll know. It’s that simple. You can’t let someone define who you are or validate you by their opinion. As you know, that’s no way to live. It’s what you ran from. Your life is in your hands, sweetheart. You’re young. If this doesn’t go the way you want it to go, then consider it an early life lesson.” Yeah, it sounds simple when she says it, but I highly doubt it’ll be that easy when the time comes for me to spit it out. I’ve already asked if he knew who I was, and he didn’t.
Blowing out a breath, I squeeze her hand. “Okay. I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything.” And I can’t. It may take a few tries, but hopefully the truth will come out sooner, rather than later. Once that’s over with, I can move on. He’ll want to stay away from me, then I won’t have to worry about him or my feelings for him again.
“You can do this, Angelica. I have faith in you.” Her support makes me glad to have her as a friend.
“Thanks, Amy. I hope you’re right.”
After that, we sit quietly for a few moments, then discuss our night and routines like we do on any other night, except without watching the TV. Then we go our separate ways to go to sleep. Maybe I’ll get lucky and Dominic won’t be around tomorrow.
***
I take more time than usual getting ready for my first dance. My hands are shaking and sweating, I’m so nervous. It’s worse than I felt the first night dancing here. Actually, that’s a lie. I wasn’t nervous that night, but I am tonight. All because I have no idea if he’ll be sitting out there, watching me.
“Angel, you’re up next,” one of the stage guys yells through the door.
Looking at myself one last time, I decide there’s nothing more I can do. I’m ready, or as ready as I can be.
Making my way to the stage, I try to look out into the crowd before I go out, but I don’t see him. That doesn’t mean he’s not here, but he’s not anywhere I’ve looked so far. When I get on stage, I won’t be looking though, or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
My name is called and the lights go out, leaving only the spotlight in the middle of the stage. My song comes on as I make my way out.
Everything starts off like any other night. I forget about the crowd, feeling the music like an extension of me, and dance with everything I have in my soul.
I’m stripping my dress off so I’m only in my fancy bra and panties. I move my eyes from left to right, while moving my body sensually. I’m thankful right now that I decided not to do anything with the pole for this routine. I just wanted to keep it simple.
When I don’t come across his dark eyes and muscular frame, disappointment flushes through me. It’s so strong that my body freezes, but only for a second, then carry on like any other night. But my heart isn’t in it anymore and I hate that he’s the reason why.
So what if he’s not here, watching me? It’s not like I really wanted him here, right? What a lie.
When my song ends, I don’t waste any time getting off the stage, leaving any money there for someone to pick up for me. Usually, I try to stay long enough to pick up a few tips and smile at the crowd, but I’m embarrassed.
As soon as Amy sees me, she knows. “He’s not here?”
Shaking my head no, I squeeze her hand as I walk past her to my vanity. I can’t form words or talk about how sad it makes me not to see his face.
Amy comes over to where I’m sitting and gives me a sad smile through the mirror. “Maybe he’s just busy. He’ll be back. If he feels anything like you do, he won’t be able to stay away.”
Leaving the room, I hear her name announced by the DJ and hear her song come on. I should really go out there and watch her routine. I haven’t done that in a while. I know it would make her happy, showing her support.
Wrapping my robe around my body and tying it tightly around my waist, I head out to the bar. I’ve seen this routine from her before, but I still watch her, standing close to the stage and away from the audience so they can’t see me. All eyes are on her anyway, but I don’t want to cause a distraction.
When she’s done dancing, I wink at her when she walks by me to head into the back. She smiles brightly and I know it was a good decision to come out. It made her happy, which makes me happy. I wish I’d met her a long time ago. Maybe with her in my life when I was growing up, I wouldn’t have let my parents walk all over me. Then again, maybe I would have.
There’s no use thinking of such things. That was the past and this is the present. I have her with me now, and that’s all that matters.
Heading to the bar, I call out to Maci for a bottle of water. I have two more routines scheduled for tonight.
As I’m waiting for Maci to return, I feel a presence behind me. I can tell immediately it’s a man because they shadow over me. It makes me uneasy, but I won’t show any fear.
After yesterday, I made a promise to myself I wouldn’t fear anyone. I also made the decision last night while I was lying in bed, waiting for sleep to come, that I would sign up for some self-defense classes. It would be a good thing for a woman in a big city to learn. Plus, with the job I have, it would make even more sense. I’m thinking of trying to get Amy to do it with me. I think she’d like it, and it would be good for us. It’ll also keep us in shape. Maybe she’d be interested in one of my other classes too, since she really enjoyed my new routine.
Turning around slowly, I’m preparing to tell the guy behind me to back off and give me my space, but before I’m fully facing him, I can feel him. It’s him. Dominic’s here.
My heart soars and starts to beat against my chest. My breathing picks up and my palms start to sweat.
“You again,” I say before I can stop myself, but I can’t take it back now. Actually, it’s probably good, that way I don’t come
off as nervous.
“Come on, babe. Don’t be like that,” he says, smiling coyly. His face is cut in hard edges, and raw masculine power drips off him like melting ice.
“Don’t be like what? Irritated you’re stalking me now?” My words have no bite. I’m fighting a smile, and actually having fun conversing with him. Am I flirting with him?
“Well, if you’d give me the time of day, I wouldn’t have to stalk you,” he answers, flirting back. It feels natural, like I’ve known him longer than I have. Well, I don’t know him at all, besides his name, and that’s only because the police told me. I know his nickname, but that’s because it’s on his vest for all to see.
I also know that he’s tall, dark, and handsome. I know that he’s irresistible, and I know I both love it and hate it at the same time.
Getting serious, I ask, “What is it you want from me?” The words come out almost strained. Would now be the time to tell him and get it out there? Do I ask him to go someplace more private to talk? What does a situation like this call for?
Sensing my mood change, the flirty smile drops from his lips. Although his face looks angry, I can tell by his eyes that he’s not. It’s obviously just the way he looks when he’s not smiling. He seems almost nervous, or unsure of himself. I have no idea what it is.
Looking away for a moment, like he’s looking for the right words. When they come to him, he looks back at me, almost catching me staring at his lips. They’re fuller than I would have thought a man’s lips would be, but they have me thinking dirty thoughts. Like what they’d taste like, or how they’d feel on my body.
“I just wanna talk to you,” he says quietly.
Does he know? Is that why he wants to talk? Maybe I’m not ready after all. “Listen, I’m working, so I really don’t have time to talk.” I guess I thought he wanted me, or liked the way I danced and would want a private show. When I saw him watching me last night, I could see the lust in his eyes, but maybe that was wishful thinking.
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