by Anna Brooks
I chuckle under my breath, and we continue to walk around. I listen to him, but my mind wanders to places it hasn’t been in a long time. Growing up with Ace Anderson for a father had its perks. He may have died when I was fourteen, but I learned more about being a man from him in that short time than most grown men will their whole life.
He worshipped my mother. Treated her like a goddamned queen. He showed me what it was like to be devoted to a woman. What real, honest, and true love really was. What you’d sacrifice for her, what you’d do to protect her. What you would give up for her.
But for every gentle part he saved for my mother, the ruthless part that had to keep her safe was tenfold. He started out as her bodyguard when he retired from boxing, and one thing led to another. After branching out and starting his own company, he met then married my mother, and they had me.
He showed me the ins and outs of running a protection firm from a young age since I wanted to hang out with him all the time, and he also taught me how to fight to the death. By the time I was twelve, I could take down men double my size and twice my age. I idolized my father. Until I didn’t. I don’t think about that, though. As much as I try to remember all the good things, the one bad thing he did outweighs it all, so it’s just easier to block that out.
So when Brad called me, I decided to see what he had to offer. I need a change. I need to be more. I just need something. Maybe this will become my new norm. Maybe I’ll forget about Cali altogether.
* * *
“Come on, hook a brotha’ up,” the wasted pain in my ass begs one more time, but I continue to scan the area, ignoring him.
I’ve been officially working at Complexity for three weeks. The first two weekends were chaos, but now that I have a feel for how things run, I’m much more comfortable. We have already hired two more bouncers on top of the two Brad already had.
We’ve got one at the front door, one at the entrance to the VIP section who also monitors the back door, a man at the bar, and one watching the dance floor. I don’t have a post, so I walk around and step in when one of the guys needs a break or if I’m needed. Which is why I’m at the front right now.
We’re at capacity, and this fucking dick face is pissin’ me off because he’s stepped on my new Timbs twice now. This is the worst part of the night. I hate manning the door because I’m forced to deal with idiots like this. He bumps into me again, but luckily, Manny pushes through the door just in time. He needs a damn raise for having to deal with this shit all night.
“Thank Christ,” I mumble under my breath and give him a chin lift.
Once I’m back inside and away from the bright light used to check IDs, I have to blink my eyes a couple of times to adjust to the dim lighting. A quick scan tells me not much has changed in the fifteen minutes I’ve been at the door.
As I walk around the perimeter, her laughter catches my attention. I angle my body so I can get a better view. Her legs, so damn long in a pair of skintight jeans, are the first thing in sight. I follow them up and bite back a moan at the way her curvy ass sticks out as she bends over to pick up a glass. When she stands and turns, my eyes continue trailing up to her chest, briefly stopping on her ample breasts, then when I reach her face, I have to look away.
It’s been years. Almost a decade since a woman made my heart race. I walk closer to her, to the VIP section, intending to circle it. Wanting to make sure she’s okay. I’d never admit I spend more time over here when she’s working, but something in me is magnetized to her. As I get closer, I hear her voice, low and demanding but with a hint of fear. “Let go.”
Adrenaline pumps through me at a rate I haven’t experienced before, and I shove through the crowd to reach her. I leap up onto the platform and swing my body over the glass partition, cutting off the other bouncer as he’s rushing over from the stairs. It takes a split second to see her struggling to free herself. And it takes even less time than that to find some motherfucker’s hand on her thigh. Her painted-on pants easily show how tightly he’s squeezing her leg since his fingers are indented in the fabric.
A growl leaves my throat, and in two strides, I have his wrist in my hand. I bend it backward, and the little bitch falls out of his seat. “Fuck.” He whines as he drops to the floor. “Ow, ow.”
I put a foot on his neck so he can’t move and glance at Polly. “You okay?”
She swallows and nods, even though her eyes are wide, and her normally tan skin is slightly pale.
“Tell me. Give me the words.”
Her eyes snap to mine at the harshness in my voice. “I’m fine.”
Brad comes up and begins to walk closer to me, but I shake my head. “I got him. Make sure she’s okay.”
He throws an arm around Polly’s shoulder and steers her out of the section. The guy beneath me groans, and I press a little harder before I lift my foot and reach down to grab him. With my hand around his bicep, I glare at his friends. “Am I gonna have a problem with any of you?”
They all shake their heads.
“Good.” I pull this asshole down the stairs, following Josh, the bouncer who mans the VIP section. He holds open the rope, and I drag this guy to the entrance. When I reach the door, it’s opened for me by Manny, and I shove this fucker outside. The crowd waiting in line gasps.
“You’re not welcome back here again. Don’t make the mistake of trying to show up because you will not like the consequences.”
“I didn’t do anything,” he groans as he stands up.
“You put your hand on my… on a woman, and she told you to let go. You didn’t. Now, you’re done.”
He tries to argue, but I turn my back to him and make my way inside. I head directly to Brad’s office where he and Polly are sitting on a couch. She has a bottle of water, and he’s watching her with a very pissed-off look on his face. This is the first time something like this has happened since I’ve been here, but I’ve been waiting for it. Kind of surprised it took this long.
“You good, Polly?”
She jumps at my question then laughs. “Jeez, how is someone so big so damn quiet? Yes, I’m fine. It really wasn’t that big of a deal. I was about to hit him upside the head with my tray.”
She giggles, but neither Brad nor I return the sentiment.
“See.” Brad stands and runs his fingers through his hair. “This shit didn’t happen before. Granted, I’ve always had dudes working here, but still. It shouldn’t happen at all.”
He’s clearly frustrated, and I am too, but it’s not surprising. “I know you’re pissed, but unfortunately, that’s what happens when you put a beautiful woman in a confined space with a bunch of rich, drunk pricks.”
At my words, Polly turns her head to me. So damn beautiful. When she sees me staring at her, she suddenly finds interest in the label of her water bottle.
“The only solution is to get rid of the VIP and—”
“No.” I pause at Polly’s urgent tone. “You can’t. It makes the club so much money, and if you got rid of it, you’d lose a lot of customers. How long is the list, Brad?”
He sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “Four months.”
“Exactly. And you’re making thousands a night. It’d be bad business to close it. People come from all over just to be here for a night; it’s a one-of-a-kind club, and part of that is the new VIP experience.”
“The money isn’t worth you being harassed, Polly,” Brad states.
She tosses the water bottle in the trash and stands up. “Trust me, that was nothing. It’s fine; I’m fine. I can hold my own, okay?”
I follow her out of the room, ignoring Brad when he calls me. When she reaches the corner that will take her to the bar, I take a large step so I’m in front of her with one question on my mind. “What do you mean that was nothing?”
She tilts her head up to me, and I drop mine closer to hers. If I moved another few inches, I could have my mouth on her. Could finally taste her. Cup her tits and feel her nipples get hard. She’s more than he
r killer body, though, she’s hilarious. And confident. And smart. And I want to make her eyes sparkle with lust, not swirl with fear. I want to know if her heart speeds up around me like mine does around her. But that’s not what this is about.
“We’ve all got a past, Erik.” She taps the tip of her shoe on the ground. “I appreciate you stepping in. Thank you.”
She steps around me, and I lean against the wall as I watch her walk away, realizing I’ve got it bad. Really fuckin’ bad.
Chapter 4
Polly
I rush around to continue serving drinks the rest of the night and feel my face warming with each step I take. Not because I’m hot from practically running around. Not because I’m wearing tight jeans. But because of the man whose gaze I can feel on me, and it’s been like this since day one. He’ll be across the room, and I look up, and boom, our eyes connect.
Even though I try to ignore it, sparks fly every single time we look at each other. Butterflies tickle my stomach, and my heartbeat becomes unsteady. But I need this job. The money has been such a blessing these past few weeks. I’ve made more than I thought I would, which is part of the reason I’m so against the VIP closing. It’s really good money. I was finally able to open a savings account and hope to replace my car in the next few months. The piece of shit is barely hanging on as it is. And since it’s the last association I have with Richard, I want it gone.
I used the money I had previously saved on my first and last month’s rent, so when I started at Complexity, I only had about seven dollars in my checking account.
When I was living with Richard, I didn’t realize how much he actually paid for. Or how little I made. I took for granted having money handed to me for groceries, or the utilities automatically paid for. I contributed as much as I could, but working at a diner for five hours a day wasn’t enough to support anyone, yet he didn’t once complain about the finances. In fact, he encouraged me to stay at The Lunchbox and not work full time.
As the night turns to early morning, my feet and lower back begin to ache. It’s the last call, so everyone will begin clearing out shortly. I close out tabs, clear away empties, and clean tables. By the time the music shuts off and the lights are turned on, it’s two fifty. I yawn as I crawl into a booth and wipe down the seat.
A low rumble comes from behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to see Erik. He’s fisted his hands at his sides, and his eyes are trained on my ass sticking up in the air. I slide out and lean against the table because with him looking at me like that, it makes my resolve weaken. He makes all sorts of things happen to me. Things I’ve never experienced with anyone.
“Something wrong?” I ask.
“You’re the last one here. I’m just waiting so we can head out.” He swallows and runs a hand through his hair.
“Everyone else left already?” I knew Brad had left, but the other guys didn’t say bye like usual. I suppose since I was cleaning and lost in my thoughts, they might not have seen me.
“Yeah, they already took off.”
“Oh.”
He steps closer to me, and I try to back up, but I have nowhere to go. I don’t know that I want to go anywhere. I kind of want to stay right here. With him. “Polly,” he says, his voice low. “We need to go.”
“Go where?”
“Definitely where you’re not near a horizontal surface and we’re alone.” The tips of his boots touch the tips of my Chucks, and I suck in a shaky breath as I crane my head up to see his face. His tongue darts out and moistens his lips. “Unless that’s what you want.”
Of course, I want. I’ve never had a man’s hands on me strictly because he wanted to touch me. There was always an ulterior motive… Hell, maybe there is with Erik too; I don’t know. As much as I want to though, I can’t. I can’t risk it. I need this job and I need my sanity. One too many men has screwed me over, and I really like this whole independence thing I’ve got going on right now.
But I also like it when Erik’s fingers graze over my skin, no matter how innocent the gesture. When he’s around me, I find myself smiling more. His proximity calms me. I feel safe knowing he’s close. And because he makes me feel all those things, I know that when he gets sick of me, or when his true colors show, I won’t be able to be around him, and I’ll lose this job. And I can’t take that chance. For my job, but also my heart.
I shake my head, then I sidestep away from him, walk down the few steps that lead to the main club area, and toss the rag into a bucket behind the bar. His footsteps are close, and when I grab my purse from Brad’s office, I squeeze past Erik, whose frame is almost as large as the whole freaking door, and wait at the back entrance while he sets the alarm. Even when everyone else is with us, this is the normal routine.
Waiting for him to type in the code, I dig my keys out of my purse. He pushes open the door, glances into the alley, and walks out ahead of me. Then he reaches back for my hand. I put mine in his, and with his free hand, he clicks the door locks in place. Once secured, he releases my hand and guides me to my car with his palm on my lower back. The first time he did it, I didn’t even question it since it felt so good.
This is my favorite part of the day. The highlight of my week. No matter how many people walk out with us, no matter if he’s in conversation with someone else, he always does this. Protects me. Treats me special. I hate that I love it, but it’s impossible not to. Nobody has ever cared that much.
Sure, Richard cared about me in his own twisted way. The letter he sent me from prison burns a hole in my purse, but I haven’t opened it yet. Part of me is afraid that he’ll make me feel guilty for ignoring him, but after what he did, how can I continue to have any type of friendship with him?
It takes a throat clearing for me to realize we’re standing in front of my car.
I turn and try to smile, but it turns to a yawn. “Sorry. Long day.”
He brings a hand up to my face and runs his thumb along my cheekbone. It takes more strength than I thought it would not to lean into him. “Then you’d better get home and get some sleep, beautiful.”
He steps back, and I reach for the handle. It takes two tries, but I finally open the door and get in. As I drive away, I watch him in my rearview mirror until I’m forced to turn out of the parking lot and he’s out of sight.
* * *
“No, no, no.” I slam my foot on the pedal and hit the steering wheel. “Dammit.” After taking a heaving breath, I go inside and look through an old-as-dirt phone book I found in the bottom of a drawer and search for tow truck companies. After calling three, I found one attached to a garage that can tow it and then also repair it. I have no clue if they’re reputable or not, but he says he can be here in about ten minutes, so I give him my address. I also call Complexity and leave a message for Brad to let him know that I’m going to be late.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m standing here watching the tow truck driver hook up my car. He hands me a paper to sign. “Were you coming or going?”
“Going.” I sigh. I’m going to have to walk, and I’m going to be even later.
“Where to?” He takes the clipboard back and slides his sunglasses over his eyes.
“Work.”
He chuckles, jiggling his big belly. “Where is that?”
Everything is telling me he’s a genuinely nice guy. Probably mid-thirties, a little dirty, but that’s to be expected for what he does for a living.
“Complexity. The bar.”
“Oh, it’s not that far and I drive right past there. Do you want me to give you a lift?”
Still, I hesitate.
His phone chimes, and he looks at it then back at me. “I’ve gotta go. Do you want a lift or not?”
Why not? “Sure.”
I walk around the big ass truck and hop in, noting the picture of who I’m assuming is his wife and daughter. The engine rumbles to a start and I buckle up. Thankfully, the drive is short and uneventful, and he talks the whole time about his little girl who just turned four. W
hen he pulls up to the front of Complexity, I thank him.
“No problem. They’ll look at your car on Monday and give you a call.”
Dammit, that’s two days away. “Okay. Thank you again.”
I open my door, and before I even have my feet on the ground, Erik is there, grabbing me by my waist and hoisting me out of the truck. He slams the door and turns to face me. Oh, he’s pissed. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches.
Predator, prey. He stalks me until my back hits the brick wall of the club. He puts his forearms on either side of my head, caging me in. The fury in his eyes should scare me, but it doesn’t. At all. In fact, I’m feeling the absolute and complete utter opposite of fear.
His nose actually brushes against mine. “What. The hell. Are you doing?”
“Excuse me?”
“You seriously got into a truck with a man you don’t know. Alone? Jesus Christ, Polly.”
My justification flies out of my mouth because I don’t want him thinking I’m an idiot. “My car died, and when he came, he offered me a ride since it was on his way. It’s really not a big de—”
“Oh, yes, it is. You were alone with a guy two times your size. He could have touched you, taken advantage of you… He could have hurt you.” He ends the statement on a whisper and drops his forehead to mine, his warmth sinking into me.
“He didn’t. And I was fine, Erik, perfectly safe.”
“Don’t ever do that again. Please. If you need a ride, if your fuckin’ drain is clogged, anything, don’t call another man. Call me.”
“Why?”
His lids close slowly before he opens them. The unrest swirling in his eyes makes them darken a shade, turning the amber jade specks the color of evergreens. “Because if something happened to you, and I wasn’t there…”
Oh no, I’m not letting him do this. I’m not letting a guy step in and think that I need to be taken care of. I’m not getting attached to someone only to be left in the dust. “I’m not your responsibility. It’s nice that you care, but I’m not going to call you if my door squeaks. That’s why I have a landlord; he—”
