by Scott, Raven
Taking a shallow breath through my mouth, my lips thinned at the pungent stench of alcohol even as my brain wafted through it. Illya dipped, balancing on her heels with her knees out, and I clenched my jaw as I watched her ass jiggle. My palms itched to grab her and see if those globes were as tight as they looked.
My guess was, yeah, they definitely were.
Under the intense sharpness of tequila, the smell that curled tantalizingly up from her hair fogged my mind. It must’ve been a strong scent because the booze was so thick here that it dripped down the walls. Reaching to rub my jaw roughly with my left hand, I tapped my bicep with what was left of my right hand.
“Theo.” Grunting without tearing my eyes off Illya, I ran my hand through my hair— the hand with all five fingers, because what’s a comb without bristles? “What would you do in my situation, huh?”
“I’d kill her, honestly.” My eyes narrowed into slits when Illya paused, losing her composure, and I cocked my head absently at the slightly frozen part of her face, right around her mouth. “There’s no way this turns out good for you, Mateo.”
“Yeah, I just don’t want to jump the gun.” At that, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, and I shot Mateo a hard glare as he flopped his head back against that nasty-ass sofa. My chest tightened in sympathy at how hard this was for him, but . . . come the fuck on, man. This wasn’t rocket science. “Don’t you think it’d be worth it? To beat the odds?”
“I think it’s unnecessary. Beating the odds is one thing, Mateo, but you’re wishing for something that’s not going to happen. If you find her, she’ll have to detox and all that shit. Do you really wanna watch that?” At some point, my eyes drifted back to Illya. She was much better to look at than Mateo, anyway. Granted, Mateo had that pretty boy, Spanish features, silky accent thing going on. Shaking my head viciously, I exhaled a hot breath as fire licked up my spine and down my legs. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re as important to that drugged up slut than she is to you. You fucked twice, it was a mistake, all that bullshit.”
“Yeah, I’m still gonna try, though.” Mateo was in love, and I guffawed when he just ignored me. Only, he wasn’t in love with that bitch Sylvie, who was desperate to lower her debt and starting to slide back into bad habits well over two months ago.
No, he was in love with the thing inside her that he’d so carelessly let happen. Truthfully, I felt kinda bad for Mateo because there was no way that this scenario would play out with a happy ending. Not that talking sense to him is going to do any good. He’s dead set on trying to have this baby.
“Since Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumbfuck can’t do their jobs, I want you to find her, Theo.” Grinding my teeth, I only jerked my head in a nod, and Mateo glanced over at Johnny with disgust on his face. “Get out. I’ll deal with you later.”
Johnny shuffled up with his busted face and dejected, slumping shoulders, and I frowned under furrowed brows. The guy was already on thin ice after fucking up with his last job, and I shuffled out of the way to let him out. My gaze swung past Illya to Cris, Johnny’s much younger, junior kinda partner, who was staring at the stripper’s ass so hard it was almost comical.
“Tell me exactly what you two did looking for her, Cris.” Obviously, no one had tried too hard to find this chick, and I wasn’t sure why. Mateo hadn’t been subtle about what would happen if she couldn’t be smoked out of her hole in the ground. Cris cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter, and I tuned out the conversation to turn my attention back to Illya.
She was pretty, with her deep, dark blue hair and vivid, eyes so green they were probably fake. I scanned Illya’s muscular legs, outlined in tight stockings, and a throb rippled across my abdomen to stiffen my cock. Mateo dragged my ass out here because he “needed a change of scenery,” and I had to say I wasn’t as disgruntled about it now as I was on the way.
“You didn’t even talk to her roommate!” My body sprung into action before I even consciously registered Mateo, screaming at this kid who was no older than nineteen. Jumping forward as he, once again, shoved Illya, I just grabbed her without thinking to push her behind me. My boss advanced on Cris, as if he wanted to beat his face, but stopped himself when he realized that it wasn’t Cris’ fault.
Cris was a hardworking kid, and my gaze flickered between him and Mateo as the other stripper rushed to huddle behind me. Swiping his hand through his jet black hair, Mateo rolled his shoulders and huffed as Cris tried to get eaten by the sofa cushions.
“Did you even bother with going to her apartment?” Mateo tugged his button-down shirt and cleared his throat, but the tension only mounted in his back when Cris shook his head with uncertainty.
“Johnny thought she wouldn’t be there, so there was no point in going. I told him to check her job, then, but we started checking crack houses instead. He told me that she wouldn’t be stupid enough to go home or to work.” Long, thin fingers hugged my arm, and I glanced down as Illya peeked out from over my shoulder. So close, even behind green lenses, I could see how curious she was, and a frown dragged down my mouth. My muscles gorged on apprehension and adrenaline, and my cock ached as I fought the need to grab her hand and . . .
“Theo.” Swinging to Mateo, my gaze narrowed into tight points, and Illya tensed against me. Clenching my jaw hard when she pressed her body into my back, I exhaled hotly through flared nostrils as my boss shot me a nasty look. “You’re on top of this now. Asking Johnny was a mistake. Do whatever you need to do to find this bitch.”
“Yeah, whatever.” I’d get the job done. I’d worked for Mateo for almost three years now, and had never failed him a single damn time. We were mutually beneficial to each other because I wasn’t in this for advancement or money or infamy, and he didn’t want to deal with the politics of someone trying to climb the ladder.
“I’ve scared them again.” Mateo rubbed the back of his neck almost sheepishly, and a headache sprung behind my eyeballs at how quick he flew between rage and normalcy. “I think it’s about time I left and gave you girls some peace.”
“It’s okay.” Illya wasn’t the one that spoke up, and I reached around with my mangled hand to keep her still. The other stripper stepped out from behind me with an understanding smile puffing out her cheeks, but I didn’t trust Mateo as far as I could throw him.
And that was pretty far, a good thirty feet, at least. Mateo was a fucking lanky shrimp, after all.
“It’s honestly, perfectly fine. We don’t get a lot of excitement, just a lot of creeps. I meant to ask you, do you box or anything? Those were really good punches.” My eyelid twitched as the brunette tried to keep the party going, and Illya groaned softly in annoyance. The soft noise rolled up my spine and dug violently between my shoulder blades, and I squeezed her arm weakly. Mateo grinned, his face practically lighting up like a Christmas tree, and the hairs on the back of my neck flattened.
“Yeah, I do, actually.” He sounded so damn happy that someone noticed his expert punches, and I snorted incredulously. The tightness in my chest eased, and I unhooked my pinky and pointer finger from around Illya’s arm. She sorta hung back, reading the atmosphere, and I tilted my head to watch her rub where I’d grabbed her gingerly.
Fake, green eyes flickered to mine, and my own narrowed into tight points as Illya flushed in the face. My cock ached fiercely, and I reached to adjust myself in my jeans. Her cheeks fired red, although my action did nothing to relieve the almost painful prickling in my thighs and abdomen. For a long moment, I watched her get redder and redder with a pleasant, burning satisfaction bubbling up in my chest until she rushed to sit on the sofa.
“So, do you have any special skills, darling?” Mateo broke my daze as he pulled the other stripper into his lap, and I inhaled sharply with a shake of my head. Repositioning myself by the door, I crossed my arms— an ever-vigilant statue ready to catch bullets— but . . .
I couldn’t keep my eyes or attention off Illya. Mateo could be getting shot at— at this moment, and I
wouldn’t care. Which is worrying, but there’s something about her.
6
Illya
“Well, that could’ve gone a lot worse. At least those guys tipped super nice.” Smiling as I stuffed a rubberband-held wad of cash into my fanny pack, I only nodded at Marcella’s musings. My fingers still tingled wildly where I’d touched Theo’s arm, and my own was damn near numb from his grip on my bicep. The strange sensation of being grabbed by a man with no middle or fourth finger rose the hairs on the back of my neck even now, hours after they’d left.
The club was quiet, the DJ working quietly on the floor, and I didn’t have anything more to distract me from the fact that Theo stared at me for almost two hours straight. A shiver of uncertainty slithered up my spine, and fire blazed just under my skin at the memories that played so fresh in my mind. Tightening the strap of my pack absently, I gnawed on my bottom lip as my thoughts wandered.
Theo was downright creepy with that stare, but I couldn’t help but think he just didn’t have much experience with women. Screwing a woman and finding her attractive were two different things, and the vision of him fixing himself flashed behind my lids when I blinked. Yeah, definitely not the kind of guy that dated.
Doing that was so damn gross, and a shiver rattled down my spine before I forced myself to focus for a second. Checking to make sure I had everything I needed, I glanced over as Marcella waited by the door, and a guilty smile stretched my lips.
“Sorry, tonight was really weird. I’m still trying to process it.” She nodded in understanding, and I took a stabilizing breath as we headed out of the back and onto the main floor. “That guy, Mateo, he just . . . he flew off the handle so fast. I wasn’t expecting that at all. He seemed pretty alright for the most part, but . . . ”
“I totally get it. I didn’t walk into that room thinking I’d get knocked over the sofa, for sure.” Marcella flipped her hair over her shoulder as she spoke, and I hummed softly in acknowledgment. “I bet that’s why I got such a huge tip. That guy seems like he has a lot of unresolved issues though to get angry like that and then get so . . . almost bashful?”
“Yeah.” Pushing open one of the doors, I took a huge breath of the crisp night air and sighed a gust. “I have to go wash this stuff out of my hair. I kinda just wanna go to bed, but then I’d get dye all over the place.”
“You probably spend more money on temporary dye than food, don’t you, Illya?” She smirked slipperily, and I nodded with a little giggle as we approached my bike. “Anyway, do you want me to give you a ride? We can stick your bike in my back seat.”
“No, I like the ride home. It’s super late, and no one’s out. Even the tweakers don’t come out at this time of night. They’re super paranoid when it gets so dark.” My wry reply earned me a chuff, and Marcella wandered off to her car wordlessly as I unlocked my bike. Hoisting my only mode of transportation off the rack, I wound the chain around the handlebars and swung my leg expertly. Within seconds, I was off, and I pumped the pedals a few times before starting to cruise.
Tonight was like every other night— the blinking traffic lights, the quiet streets, the darkness broke up only by tiny streetlamps. Sailing into a left turn, I glanced behind me absently, and a car pulled out of the tiny gas station across the street from the club. In the darkness, the lights from that one car were almost blinding my peripheral, and I blinked hard as I twisted forward.
Mateo might’ve been a wild ride, but Theo was really the one that disturbed me. His eyes only left me when they had to, and he fit into the category of ‘creeps that don’t seem like they’d hang out after closing but definitely would.’ I had no doubt that, at some point, he’d show up at my apartment, too. It wasn’t a stretch to realize they were talking about Sylvie.
If he didn’t find her, what would Theo do to me because I was her roommate? I couldn’t imagine that Mateo was pissed because of just a one-night stand. More than likely, Sylvie must’ve stolen something from him, and he wanted to get it back or punish her, or both.
I was the person closest to her, and that’s always who the bad guys go for.
“He’s probably a drug lord or something.” My expression soured at my own grumble, and I shook my head as I weaved between street lights. If there was one thing I’d learned in this town, it was to have a really good Mexican dialect, and Mateo’s sucked. What little Spanish he’d spoken during those two hours gave me the impression that he probably learned it in high school or something, and might not have ever been to Mexico at all.
In this town, Spanish was a more popular language than English. Just sixty miles away was the border and Mexi-Cali, and when entering a store, most salespeople greeted me in Spanish, not English.
Luckily, I knew six languages, courtesy of libraries, of course.
My shadow cast long in front of me, and I glanced over my shoulder to find those same, intensely bright headlights glaring at me. The car puttered along slower than I was riding, and I nibbled on my bottom lip in uncertainty. In the four years I’d worked at the club, I’d never once seen a car so late at night on this road, and it wasn’t trying to pass me. Worry gnawed at my gut, and my heartbeat a little harder as I pumped the pedals to speed up.
Of course, it has to be the night that I have almost three thousand dollars on my person. Mateo gave Marcella, Clary, and I three grand each, and I’d made good tips after they’d left. Roge’s cut dipped me under, but who was I to complain? He only took twenty-five percent a night— that was a deal of a lifetime.
“Crap . . . crap . . . ” I took one more turn that would lead me in the wrong direction, and the car followed me. Squeezing the break on my bike, I pulled to the side and hopped off my bike. My adrenaline spiked when the vehicle parked as well, and I unzipped my fanny pack to pull out my knife and flick it open. “You better start driving, buddy!”
The driver’s side door swung open, and I squinted to try to make out anything beyond the headlights. Tension zinged through me, and my muscles gorged on anxiety as I struggled to take deep, calming breaths. I’d been in my fair share of fights over the years, and I clenched my jaw hard.
“Stop acting all big and bad.” Deep and dark, the baritone wrapped around me in a vice, and my breath hitched as a body shuffled to block one of the lights. Theo’s silhouette sharpened from the glare, and I tightened my grip on my knife. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I’m not expecting you to.” Cutting me off, Theo must’ve had a remote for the car auxiliaries because the lights suddenly turned off, and I winced. Before I could blink back the colorful spots, he was in front of me, and the hairs on my neck stood up as goosebumps pocked my arms and across my chest. So softly, he dragged his fingertip down my jaw, and my heart hammered furiously at how fast he was. “You won’t be needing this.”
A huge hole opened up in my chest when Theo pulled his hand back, and my knife hung from around his pinky. His eyes seemed so bright, and I automatically took a step back as weakness assaulted my knees.
“Don’t be scared . . . unless you have something to hide, Illya. Answer my questions, and you’ll get your dinky knife back and be on your way.” Crossing my arms tightly over my chest, the fine hairs on my face bristled when Theo reached to cup the back of my head. He was very gentle, but his eyes were violent and hard, and a quake assaulted my spine. “Where is she? I know you know her, that bitch Sylvie.”
“I don’t know.” Five fingers curled into a fist in my hair threateningly, and I gasped sharply as Theo jostled my head a little bit, just enough to know he meant business. My eyes met his, and my mouth dried at how fiery and lively his orbs were even now. “I said, I don’t know. I . . . I caught her buying drugs at the store earlier, and I kicked her out. I don’t know where she went. I made a video just in case.”
“Show me.” Nodding hastily, I unzipped my fanny pack, and Theo eased his grip on my hair as an amused chuff rumbled from his throat. “Why are you
wearing that thing?”
“It’s harder to steal.” Answering the question, I just wanted Theo to leave me alone, and I pulled out my phone to unlock the screen. My hand shook, and I held out the bright screen before tapping the ‘play’ button with a stiff finger. “I kicked her out about two hours after this happened, maybe an hour and a half. I don’t know where she went, I swear.”
“Uh-huh.” The absentminded response came just before Theo glanced at my phone, and I tensed when he frowned at the screen. “Did you really think I’d follow you just to attack you?”
“Yeah, you did stare at me for two hours straight.” Stop asking questions and let me go. Oh, my God . . . Dark eyes snapped to mine, and I stiffened when they flared with offense. Theo’s jaw ticked a few times before he grunted, and the moment slid by on pins and needles until he ducked to watch the video.
“Right. Do you know this guy?”
“No, he’s a different dealer than the one Sylvie had before I helped her get clean.” Theo had no accent beyond the typical American one, and I couldn’t even be mad right now as he started kneading my scalp. Sucking in a sharp breath, a cold sweat broke out under my clothes, and he jutted his chin out at me with an expectant grunt.
“Replay it.” The video couldn’t have been longer than twenty seconds, and I swiped back the time bar at the bottom of the screen. “How long has she been clean?”
“Four years. I told her if she ever used again, I’d kick her out of my life. I’m trying really hard. I can’t be with someone that’s not trying just as hard.” I couldn’t help the bitter betrayal that bled into my tone, and Theo’s cheek twitched in the shadow of the screen. “This . . . this is all I know, okay, so . . . you’re gonna leave me alone, right?”
