* * * *
The day had been one of the best she’d had in a very long time. Now she stood in front of a mirror in the dressing room getting ready for yet another night at the Dollhouse. She sighed. It was becoming a job. The only part she enjoyed was dancing and seeing Damon watch her. It was nice to hear the other men applaud, sure, but she only cared about one. The week was winding down as well as her time working here, and she didn’t feel like she had accomplished much besides bedding Damon, repeatedly. That thought made her smile and warmed her heart. At least some good came from it all.
Currently, she was sure of one thing, and that was Drew had proposed to a woman who didn’t actually love him. Poor guy, she thought and smoothed out her blonde wig. She couldn’t help but feel that she was missing something big, like it was right under her nose. Just trying to figure out Shay’s motivation was mind-boggling. The only thing Regan could ask was, “Why?” The average person doesn’t go through with planning a wedding to one man and bedding another that was aware of the situation. That just doesn’t jive, period.
Ebony looked at the schedule on the wall and turned to Regan. “Just where in the hell is she?”
Regan shrugged. How should she know where Cherry was?
Just as she mentally asked herself the question, she cursed internally. She is probably boinking the owner, again! Then she wondered why in the world was she still standing here? She needed to be figuring out what she was up to, not standing around. Duh.
“Whew, I gotta pee, girl!” Regan lied and hurried out of the backstage area. A quick glance toward the bar turned up nothing. Okay, the office it is.
She walked toward the bathroom and looked down the hall to Randy’s office. The door was closed, and the light was on. Bingo. At the door she listened. Shay, rather Cherry, was in there, all right. She couldn’t mistake her shrill, grating voice, ever.
“Listen, baby, this is almost over. I will be sending the pictures to Mr. Radcliff in the morning, and believe me, he won’t want them going public,” Randy spoke.
Regan heard everything and bit her lip, trying to calm her pounding heart. Pictures? Mr. Radcliff? Which one?
Shay’s heels clicked on the tile. She was pacing. “I know. You’re right…I’m sorry.”
“There you are!” Ebony said as she entered the hall, causing Regan to almost jump out of her skin.
Quickly, she knocked on the office door to cover her eavesdropping. “Hey, girl, sorry I was worried that.”
Shay jerked open the office door to find them standing there. “What in the hell do you two want?”
“Um, I…I thought something was wrong. You missed your set,” Regan quickly lied.
“So, you two aren’t smart enough to move the other dancers up to cover the vacancy?” Shay chided with one hand on the doorframe and the other on her hip. Her red hair cascaded around her shoulders, and her eyes were wild. Hate just seemed to ooze out of every pore.
Ebony stepped forward. “That’ll be enough out of you. I was hoping you had accidently broke your neck sucking cock but damn, so much for wishful thinking.”
“What’s up, ladies?” Randy waltzed to the door to diffuse the scene.
“No problem here.” Ebony smiled and walked off, leaving Regan standing in front of the door.
“Sorry, I just…I was just checking to see if Cherry was okay,” she said. Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Everything is fine, America. We were just going over the weekly schedule.” Randy smiled effortlessly.
“Okay, well…I guess I’ll go, I’m on floor,” Regan said and clicked back down the hall. Smooth, real smooth, she thought. She darted into the bathroom and sucked in a breath. “I’m just a florist!” she whispered while her heart thundered away. Was she really cut out to see this through? At first she thought it was a simple task, and it was. All she needed to do was find out if Shay was a good or bad girl. Not only was she a bad girl, she was a very bad, bad girl, and so was her boss!
“Think, stupid, think,” she muttered as she turned on the water. Something big, real big was about to go down, and she had no idea how to figure out what.
“Shit!” she yelped and hurried out of the bathroom. She really needed to tell Damon about what she had overheard. Adrenaline spiked through her veins as she walked into the main area of the club. Everything was turning into a nightmare. Ignoring men requesting her time, she kept on weaving through tables, bumping into people here and there.
“Hey,” Regan said with a smile and slid in a chair. “Something big is going to happen, tomorrow,” she said, keeping her face seductive and lips pouty while running a finger down his arm for show.
“What did you find out?” Damon smiled back and took a sip of his drink.
Regan told him what she had overheard while Damon’s lips pursed together tightly, and his attitude turned dark as he slammed his glass on the table. “That bitch!”
“I don’t get it, which one of you and more importantly, why?” Regan questioned, seeing that the situation was worse than she thought after seeing the rage build in Damon.
“I’m not sure, but we had better find out,” Damon said, looking away from her after he said it.
“Hey, look, Cherry is up, and Randy is at the bar. I’m getting in that office!” Regan said and got up from the table.
“Wait!” Damon grabbed her wrist hard and pulled her back. “I can’t let you. This is too deep…I’ll go.”
Regan blinked her eyes and stared at Damon. His gentle demeanor had turned rough. His eyes looked determined and yet sad. He was holding back something, and the thought made her sick. “What are you not telling me?” she questioned, searching his eyes for that sparkle they always had. Right now it wasn’t there.
“No time. Damage control. Get out of this club now, and don’t come back.”
“But,” Regan stammered. “I can’t just leave. My shift isn’t over!”
Damon softened his tone as he stood and looked down at her while his hand pushed a stray hair away from her face. “I…I, shit, there’s no time. Listen to me,” he said and paused. “This is going to get ugly, and I can’t apologize enough. Just know that the time I have spent with you was worth it for me. Now please, get the hell out of here.”
“Oh, okay,” Regan said, watching Damon walk away toward the bathrooms and the office at the back of the club. Confusion swirled inside her head as she watched Shay on stage. Her mind raced. She couldn’t just leave! She needed to warn Damon if Randy or Shay headed back toward the office. More importantly, she wanted to.
“America!” a man shouted, breaking her train of thought.
Regan looked over and there sat John, the accountant. She didn’t have time for him or any other hard dick in the club for that matter. She shook her head and was walking by him when he grabbed her arm and forced her into a chair.
“Have a seat, sweetheart,” he said and pushed his jacket to the side, revealing a gun.
Regan gasped.
“John, get your hands off me!” Regan shouted while John the accountant held her in front of him with a gun in her back, pushing her toward the back of the club. Fear gripped her like a vice, and for once in her life she wished she’d have taken the direct orders given to her. But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t leave Damon behind. Whatever was going on was bigger than she knew she could imagine, and she was sure that Damon had withheld, but she’d be damned if she’d allow that to run her off.
“Shut up or I’ll drop you here,” John demanded and kept her moving at a fast pace.
When they started down the hall, her worst fear smacked her head-on. She was going to die. What made it worse was now she had fallen in love, and she’d be denied her chance to enjoy it. Wait. She just admitted she was in love? Tears lightly streamed down her face. All the time she had spent building up her business and ignoring life was a waste because she had spent that time alone. She hadn’t really lived at all. And now, well, it was all over. No second chances.
John barke
d an order for her to open the door. When it opened, she saw Damon sitting in a chair with Randy in front of him and a gun pointed at his head.
“Welcome, American Pie!” Randy grinned and waved her to come over and sit down. “It’s such a shame that you aren’t who you say you are. Tsk-tsk.” He waved his gun as she sat down. “You had real potential to make a great deal of money here as did I, but look at you,” he said and jerked her wig off. “You can dance, baby, but you’re no stripper.”
“Screw you!” Regan spat.
Randy backhanded her and blood dribbled at the corner of her mouth. Damon lunged, and his fist connected with Randy’s face. “Keep your hands off her, you son of a bitch!”
John put his gun to Damon’s temple. “Back off, asshole!”
Damon backed off with his hands up and turned to Regan. “You okay?”
“Yeah, now could someone explain to me what in the hell is going on here?” If she was going to die today, she sure as hell wanted to know why before that time came.
Randy chuckled. “You have got to be kidding me! That’s rich, you really don’t know?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked.” Regan ground her teeth.
“Mr. Radcliff, would you mind doing the honors?” Randy chuckled as Shay came waltzing in the door. “Baby, there you are! You must come here. This is great!”
Shay strutted over to Randy’s side. Her lips curved into a smile seeing America and Drew’s brother sitting with guns pointed at them. “Who the hell is she?”
Randy scrubbed his jaw. “I don’t know, but what’s interesting is that she doesn’t know who he is,” he said, pointing his gun at Damon.
Shay let out a laugh.
Regan turned to Damon and searched his face for any hint of the man she knew and loved. “Who are you?”
Damon sighed. “I’m Damon Eugene Radcliff, son of Eugene Radcliff, the senator of Texas.”
“What? I…damn it!” Regan let out a frustrated breath. She knew his last name sounded familiar, but what were the chances? She didn’t keep up with politics or the news, for that matter, preferring to stay in her flowery world closed off from society. She wished she were there now.
“Please understand, I just wanted you to see me as just a man,” Damon explained.
“I understand completely. You get me involved in your family’s shady political world without telling me, and now here I sit here with a gun to my head.” She shook her head in disgust. “I thought you were…never mind, it doesn’t matter now.”
Damon sat, looking at her with a blank expression, like he didn’t know what to say. She wanted to knock the look off his face. It hurt deeply to know he’d been keeping secrets from her the entire time. “Ah, baby, isn’t that sweet?” Shay popped off. “I think they were falling in love, ha! Love, what a waste of time.”
Damon lifted his head and looked at Shay with hate evident in his stare. “What is your gain in all of this? Money? Drugs?”
Shay’s face lit up with a smile. “Money, of course. Oh, and fun.”
“It gets better!” Randy smirked and handed the pictures to Regan.
Regan’s eyes grew wide with each picture she looked at. Then she came to ones of her and Damon. A surge of despair ripped through her. She turned and threw the pictures in Damon’s face. “Asshole!” If those pictures got out to the media she’d be done, her business destroyed. The only thing she really had in her life that she had built alone, gone.
“Regan.” Damon stopped, as if he realized his mistake.
“Regan, is it?” Shay tapped the desk. “You look so familiar. Where have I seen you?”
“Go to hell!” Regan roared.
“One of these days, sweetie, one of these days.” Shay giggled.
“What’s your plan, Randy?” Damon demanded. “What is it that you want?”
“Money, for starters…your father’s career ruined, simple, really.”
“It won’t happen,” Damon replied dryly. “Why him? Aren’t there billionaires in this state that would yield you more money in your blackmail scheme?”
“Yes, there are! But this is as much about revenge as it is money,” Randy said then pulled out his phone and began typing a message. “When your father was the state prosecutor, he put me away for seven years! Seven fucking years! He stole that time from me, and now I’m going to ruin his life like he ruined mine.”
Regan screamed and bounded out of her chair toward Randy, but Shay lunged toward her. In the heat of the moment, John drew his gun and shot as Regan spun Shay around. The blast from the gun deafened her, and she immediately turned to see if Damon had been hit. He was on top of Randy, wrestling for his phone.
Shay slumped toward Regan, grasping her hair. “You skank.”
The door flew open with a crash, and Ebony screamed, “FBI, get down, hands behind your back!”
Five agents came in behind her, and as John dropped his gun, a loud clank echoed throughout the office that had gone quiet. Damon kicked the gun away from Randy and put his hands up.
Randy fell back against his desk in defeat.
Regan just stood in shock with Shay lying at her feet.
“Cuff ’em,” Ebony barked, pointing at John and Randy. “You can put your hands down, Mr. Radcliff.”
Damon walked toward Regan, and she put her hand up to stop him. This was not what she had signed up for. It infuriated her that Damon didn’t tell her the truth. He had put her in danger, her life and business. But the worst part about it all was that he didn’t trust her.
Ebony put an arm around her. “Are you okay?”
Regan nodded.
Chapter Twelve
Regan woke up with the sun as usual but lay there numb. She had cried so much her eyes burned from the sun streaming in her window. Pulling the blankets over her head, she tried to block out the sun and the world. Her phone began to ring, but before it could continue she clicked it off, knowing it was probably Damon. One part of her wanted nothing more than to hear his voice and feel him beside her, inside her. But the other part hurt deeply from his betrayal.
A knock at the door brought her to attention, causing her heart to pound faster. Knowing that the bad guys were locked away and Shay was laid up in the hospital in critical condition eased her mind. She rolled over, and the knocking became louder. Sighing, she got out of bed and put on her robe and trudged toward the door. Peeking through the peephole, she notice Ebony and smiled.
“Hi, come in, Ebony.” Regan tried to smile.
“Actually, I’m Agent Whitehall, but you can call me Marlow.”
“Marlow, okay, let’s sit in the kitchen, and I’ll make us some coffee.” Regan weakly smiled and walked ahead toward the kitchen.
“I talked with Mr. Radcliff, err, Damon, for quite a while last night,” Marlow said as she sat down at the table.
Regan shrugged and busied herself with making coffee. “Oh, yeah?”
“After talking with him, I went back to my office and did some research…Mr. Morano was indeed prosecuted by Mr. Radcliff. It was his last high profile case before he became senator.”
“I see, so what does that have to do with me?” Regan asked while pulling coffee cups out of the cabinet.
“Well, during that time Damon was away at college and knew nothing about the case. He had no idea who owned the club and didn’t know there was any connection to his father. So, you see, what he told you about wanting to find out about Drew’s fiancée was the truth. He really was trying to protect Drew and his family.” Marlow smiled softly and thanked Regan for the hot cup of coffee.
Regan trembled. “So, if I’m understanding you correctly then…”
“The only thing Damon is guilty of is withholding the fact that he was the senator’s son, that’s it.”
A tear streamed down Regan’s face. It did hurt that he didn’t tell her, but was that tiny fact worth anything? Did it change how she felt about him? She still hurt. She couldn’t help it. “I appreciate you telling me, really, I
do.”
“Well, Ms. O’Connor, I think that’s all the questions I have.” Marlow grinned and shut her notebook after she finished her questioning about the events of the week.
“Regan, call me Regan.” She sipped her coffee and couldn’t help the smile that overcame her.
“Okay, Regan, what are you smiling about? You have been through quite an ordeal.” Marlow grinned and sipped her coffee too.
“You looked so ridiculous in your genie costume with a gun yelling ‘FBI!’” Regan burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. The immense shock and fear that had held her last night began to unravel. Maybe she was becoming hysterical.
“Oh, I see how it is.” Marlow let out a laugh. “I save your ass and you laugh.” She shook her head. “But tell me, did I look hot doing it?” She perked up a brow.
Regan laughed harder. “Yes, of course!”
“I thought so.” Marlow’s face lit up in embarrassment.
“Really, though,” Regan said. “Thank you.”
“For what? I was just doing my job.” Marlow’s brows came together.
“For befriending me and not blowing my cover when you knew I was a fraud.” Regan shrugged her shoulders. Although the ending to the week wasn’t what she had in mind, she’d learned a lot, felt a lot, and most importantly, she lived.
“My pleasure, Regan. You’re definitely quite a woman, and I enjoyed every minute. I do have one piece of advice for you.”
“And that is?”
“Forgive him. Being in a political family is not all it’s cracked up to be. He’s a good man,” Marlow said and stood. “Oh, and don’t worry about the pictures. The message was never sent, and we have found the photographer that Mr. Morano hired.”
A knock came at the door again, and Regan rolled her eyes. “Thanks.”
Regan opened the door, and a chattering Bree came in. She stopped abruptly and looked at the FBI agent standing in Regan’s living room. “Oh, my god, what happened at the club? The news said that—”
“Long story, I’m fine.” Regan smiled, and Marlow gave her a quick hug and walked out of the still-open front door. When Marlow was gone, she shut the door and sighed.
Damon [The Texas Senator's Sons 1] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 12
