Ignition

by Skye Callahan

  A desire she wanted very much to fight.

  So fucking perfect.

  I fought against my own drive to take her, even knowing that I could without much consequence since as we’d addressed, she wouldn’t run to the cops. But that wasn’t part of my somewhat carefully laid plan. I didn’t care if she wanted the sex, didn’t care if she argued, but I wanted to push her into the deal to ensure she was in my pocket and not Devlin’s.

  This girl had some kind of serious issue—some load of shit that polluted her past that she was more willing to put up with this than risk facing it. I wagered she already knew about Devlin’s connections—his insane ability to drag anyone back with the press of a button on his cell—but there was something else as well.

  She knew better than to piss off Devlin—which is exactly what I intended to do. And exactly why I needed her commitment first. It was a conniving and particularly demented plan. And I was sharing lunch with a possible casualty of that plan.

  It should have bothered me more.

  Once upon a time it would have. But Devlin had a cure for that as well.

  When I finished my meal, I switched off the vibrator and her muscles relaxed, even her eyes fell closed for a moment. A brief moment of raw vulnerability.

  I bided my time for the rest of the afternoon, leaving her to her own devices while I planned for my evening job. She opted for a long bath, for which I was grateful since she would no longer smell like a club girl, but even then, I kept myself occupied maintaining my distance. I wouldn’t have a lot of time before my job tonight—even if everything went perfectly as planned with Aubrey—so I had to have everything lined up perfectly: tools, scouting, alarm codes, all of the information to keep it smooth.

  I was being overly cautious though. Tonight’s job was an easy boost. The car was hot as hell—a sleek, beautiful classic Ford street rod. But not a challenge.

  That’s the part of the game I lived for. I wanted the challenge—yearned for it as much—maybe more than sex. But I had an idea that might make the job more interesting. Maybe my most interesting yet.

  By evening, Aubrey was pacing around in my bedroom, stopping every few minutes to lean her face against the window frame and stare out at the city.

  “Time for work, darlin’. Make your decision.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked one hip. As long as she kept that edge of determination, I had high hopes that my night was going to be fun.

  “I’m not a fuck toy.”

  “Are you prepared to tell Devlin that?”

  “I won’t drink any more of his water. I know his game so I’ll just avoid it and pay my dues.”

  “You—” Oh, youthful, stupid, naive, optimism. Or she had an entirely different plan in mind. Yet, she’d made the very decision I expected—and wanted her to make. I freaked her out—but she was exponentially more afraid of pissing off Devlin. And by the end of the night, I intended to capitalize on that very fear. I had a small window for that to happen if I was going to make my ten o’clock deadline with my partner.

  The club opened at nine, but the party started even earlier than that. Of course, that party wasn’t open to the public. Technically, the hour gave the girls time to practice and get into costume and makeup—a warm-up for the night to come. And that rationale worked just fine on paper and for anyone who might stumble in who didn’t have the use of their senses.

  In reality, however, it was a glorified orgy.

  Devlin turned a blind eye to it all while the staff hung out up front, sneaking drinks—usually body shots—and having some personal fun in the private viewing rooms.

  The ones who weren’t oblivious knew that Devlin was aware of every single detail. To him, it was a small price to pay for completely pliable employees. Hell, I’d been there while he watched the whole thing on video cameras—and I’d ducked out before he started pleasuring himself to the freak show. He wasn’t bothered by connotations of modesty, but I had a few firm lines still drawn.

  I parked in front of the club with Aubrey fidgeting in the seat next to me, cloaked under my leather jacket. Let it never be said that I couldn’t pretend to be a gentleman when it served the greater interest.

  “I’m supposed to go in the back,” she said, staring toward the front door. Her features were drawn down like simply looking at the building exhausted her.

  There was only one reason she didn’t want to go in the front—the party—and that’s why I intended to drag her through it. “Isn’t that a pity? I’m going in this way, and I’m taking my coat.”

  There was the greater good.

  She muttered something under her breath and I hoped for an instant that she wouldn’t just chuck the pile of leather at me. But today was even colder, and I knew her shirt was thin which would make a long walk around the building with no coat particularly uncomfortable. Clinging to the thick coat, she followed me to the front of the building, slowing only when we neared the front door.

  I took her by the forearm and tugged her forward. “Step it up, darlin’. I have other places to be tonight, I certainly don’t want to be loitering out here.”

  The music was audible before we even opened the door, and just inside, the warm smell of stale beer and assorted alcohols acted like a thick force field that warned away anyone who treasured their liver or ability at higher reasoning.

  Two strippers were laying across the bar while the bartender and a couple of bouncers took turns pouring liquor and lapping it off of their skin.

  “Never been invited to the launch party?” I asked as Aubrey moved closer to my side.

  “Not my thing. Can we just—”

  Her words faded to nothing in my ear as a tall brunette stepped out of one of the side rooms and adjusted her skirt. No one followed after her, so I assumed that whoever had accompanied her had already moved on to some other party. Her eyes were glassy and distant, evident of another pre-party ritual—coke.

  The girl stopped short when she saw me, then darted off to the side of the stage and out of sight.

  “Colt.” Another girl’s voice lifted behind me. Coming in this way also had dire consequences for me. At least during business hours, I could blend in and enjoy the show.

  “Lissa,” I said dryly as I turned to meet her.

  “Finally joining the party?” She shot eyes at Aubrey then cozied up to me, grabbing at the collar of my shirt.

  I swatted her hands away and took a step back. “I don’t do my brother’s strippers.”

  “Really?” She looked to where my fingers still closed around Aubrey’s arm.

  “Really,” I said. I’d met Lissa a few months earlier during a private party. It really was a pity that she’d found her way into Devlin’s club. She was filled out in all the right places, and she knew how to use every inch of it. From what I heard, she also enjoyed it rough. Those kind of girls could fulfill the rush of a one-nighter, but got boring real quick.

  I didn’t want someone who begged me to hit harder or squeeze tighter.

  The bartender rounded the corner, bringing with him the biting smell of fresh booze. “You never turned in your tab for the scotches,” he said to Aubrey.

  “Those were mine,” I said, tucking her farther behind me. I still couldn’t explain the urge to stay between her and anyone who threatened her, but there was no way to enjoy a girl who was already broken.

  “Figured as much,” he grumbled. “I take it you also monopolized her time for the rest of the night?”

  “I don’t answer to you. Neither does she. Get back to your mini-party and I’ll settle my tab with Devlin.”

  He snorted and waved his hand toward the back. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you, as always.”

  Sometimes I wondered why I ever set foot in my brother’s club, but I could rarely resist the urge to irk him—even if it was just running up a bill and never paying. I had considered letting Aubrey sit and weigh her options for a bit longer, but I was already sick of the company so I push
ed her toward the back of the room. Her movements were stiff and clunky, knowing she was damned if she stayed and damned if she moved.

  Just past the employee door, Devlin stood with the young brunette who’d scampered away after seeing me.

  “I’ll find you later,” he whispered to her, copping a feel as she moved away. His glare settled on us. His mouth flat and unamused. “Sway, good to see you back. You’re up for three tonight.”

  “What?” She jerked her arm out of my grasp.

  “Need I remind you how you’re earning your keep?” His voice was even, but lower than normal—more forced. Aubrey wouldn’t be seeing any more of his silver-tongued promises now that he had her right where he wanted her.

  He didn’t know that he was playing perfectly into my plan though.

  “Get ready,” he said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

  She paused for a moment, lingering at my side, then she dropped my jacket over my arm and the heat from her presence faded with the retreating footsteps.

  “Since when do you take more than a passive interest in any of my girls?” Devlin asked. He held his chin high—always the superior in his mind—but his nostrils flared as he stared down at me.

  “She needed a ride,” I adopted the most mischievous smile I could manage.

  “And you think anything you do will deter me?” He closed in on me until barely an inch separated our chests. “I’m not like you. You and your stupid rules. I don’t give a damn if you’ve already fucked her, but I hope you enjoyed it while you could. I guarantee your interest in her will pass by the end of the night.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that.

  “What’s your game, Colt?” His voice was a grating whisper. He may not have had any moral objections to getting my leftovers, but the thought of it still heated his cold blood.

  “No game. Just having some fun where I can get it.”

  He made a sound in his throat, glancing briefly past my shoulder to the changing room. “Sticking around again?”

  “I plan on enjoying the show for a while. Then, I have other plans.”

  “Then I guess she’ll have to collect her tips elsewhere.” He clicked his tongue and knocked into my shoulder, shoving me sideways when he passed.

  It hadn’t escaped me that I was making Aubrey’s life worse—dangerously worse. Especially if things didn’t pan out exactly as I had planned.

  But even if it did, I had still insured that she was on Devlin’s shit list.

  Chapter 5

  It never failed.

  Three sets. How the hell was I supposed to pull that off? Especially when the girl who was supposed to show me the ropes was up front getting tipsy.

  And what was with her reaction to Colt? Rubbing up on him and grabbing at his collar.

  Fuck Colt. I didn’t care—but the fact that I had to tell myself that unsettled me.

  I’d spent all day debating over which was worse. Stripping for a crowd and putting up with whatever ridicule Devlin intended to put me through or offering my body to some strange man at the offer of taking care of my debts with Devlin.

  But it was more than that. More than money. The last time I’d tried to get away, Devlin had sent his cop friends after me—I suspected that’s what happened at Colt’s apartment, too. Whether or not they knew I was there¸ Devlin’s network was one I didn’t want to test again.

  All I had to do was avoid being drugged and keep my head together until I found my own way out.

  My three costumes and set list were hanging from my locker. My first dance was still later in the night—probably scheduled to take advantage of the more drunken customers. I traced my fingers along the soft feather lining of one costume, then over the rough studded texture of the next. The tiny outfits nothing more than straightjackets binding me to my new life.

  It wasn’t as if I ever expected life to be a cake walk. I didn’t want to be catered to or waited on. I didn’t expect my next meal to be served on golden plates with goblets, but this was too much. For just one second, I’d let myself dream of being courted by the stunningly rich and handsome man, and look at where that had landed me.

  I came to the city expecting to work hard to get where I wanted. I went out, got a job, worked extra hours when I could and fought to make ends meet when it got rough. Wasn’t that supposed to be the ideal work ethic? The big dream of everyone who’d pulled themselves up by their bootstraps.

  I didn’t even have to wonder where it all went wrong. The answer was simple. The first time I talked to Devlin. When I’d answered his questions and told him about my dreams—stunned by the delusion that a man like him was genuinely interested in anything I had to say.

  I pulled myself out of my personal mental hell. Soon the room would be crawling with other dancers, and I wanted to take advantage of my time alone.

  Leaning against the lockers, I rubbed my eyes and tried to visualize all of the steps to my first routine.

  “Sway.” I recognized Devlin’s voice, but I hadn’t even heard the door open. “What happened to you last night?”

  I clenched my jaw.

  “You didn’t seem to be feeling well, and then you disappeared.” His voice was nothing like it had been with Colt. Whatever was going on with those two, I wanted to be far away when it hit the fan. Yet, I suspected I was going to be right in the middle.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m not playing. I’m here. I’m working. I’m fulfilling our deal.”

  He put up his hands and backed away. It wasn’t a good idea to confront him directly, but I was tired of the endless runaround.

  “Is this about my brother?” he asked. “Did he say something? Do something? I can keep him away from you.”

  “No need.”

  Devlin snorted, and I clenched my hands against the wave of anger set off by the sound.

  “He can be relentless. I’m not sure what he’s capable of.” His audacity to pass it off as if any wrongdoing had to be perpetrated by someone else wasn’t a surprise, but it ripped at my brain like a wild dog trying to escape a cage.

  “And what are you capable of?” I snapped. Without waiting for his reaction or looking at his face, I grabbed my first costume and stormed off into the bathroom before I got in more trouble. One of the stall doors had been half ripped off since the day before, but I definitely didn’t want to know what the hell had gone on. When I heard the dressing room door open and close again, I slipped out of my clothes and into the damn feathery costume I had been assigned. The tight bra was padded and unforgiving. It pushed my breasts up until they were pinched in an unnatural and uncomfortable position. The only benefit was that they wouldn’t be bouncing around while I was on stage—not in the beginning anyway.

  After dumping my clothes in my locker, I sat down at my dressing table and fastened the absurd sparking platform heels to my feet. Added to my problems was the fact that I’d probably need physical therapy after all of this was over. What were the chances that Devlin would kick in a killer insurance plan to cover my declining mental and physical health?

  Leaning over the table, I buried my face in my hands. I had to do my job—do what earned the money and do a damn good job of it if I wanted to keep Devlin off my back. I didn’t know what Colt was capable of, that was true as well, but Devlin was the immediate threat and I imagined he was quite pissed off.

  The back door opened again, and I straightened in my seat like a grade schooler who’d been caught off guard by a teacher. I was so overwhelmed, I already felt like curling up under the table and bawling my eyes out, and if Devlin or one of his men walked in I just might do it.

  Instead, the girl who’d skittered away when Colt and I entered the building came in and sat down at the table next to me. I watched her out of the corner of my eye for a moment, wondering if she had something to say, but she pulled a makeup kit out of the top drawer and laid it out on the table in front of her.

  There goes my time alone to run through a number—or two.

  I
sucked up my pride, but when I stood my feet wobbled underneath me worse than a newborn colt’s legs.

  “You’re going to break something,” the girl said.

  “No shit, but thanks for the observation.”

  “I wasn’t—” she shook her head and went back to her makeup. She didn’t have the same smug face as the other girls when they teased me. In fact, she didn’t really have much of any look. The skin was sagging and discolored around her eyes like she hadn’t slept in weeks. She caked on concealer to hide the dark circles and smoothed out her skin, before using a darker powder to add contour and definition.

  Her makeup skills made mine look like a child’s attempts at mimicking her mother.

  “I’ve been the estranged new girl,” she whispered. “I can show you a few tricks, if you want.”

  My face warmed with the realization that I’d been caught staring at her. “I really—” I assumed it had to be a trick. “I can manage.”

  “Fine.” She leaned toward the mirror, starting on the more detailed lines and shading around her eyes.

  “My name is Aubrey,” I said, caught in an instant of guilt for brushing her off.

  “A.K.A. Sway, I hear.”

  I scowled.

  She caked on thick ruby red lipstick that stood out against her pasty skin. “They nicknamed me Lurch, consider yourself lucky.”

  I snorted and covered my mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s good. I prefer Alex, though.” She glanced around again. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for, or waiting for, but it made me uneasy. “You have to watch your back around here.”

  I continued watching as her makeup took shape. There was still nothing behind her eyes, as if it had all been stripped away until she was nothing more than a semi-autonomous puppet.

  That’s going to be me, I thought.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked, but what I really wondered was how long it’d take me to lose everything.

  “Six months.”

  “Hard club to break into,” I muttered. Not that I cared for anyone’s acceptance, but it’d be nice to know the entire staff wasn’t anticipating my downfall.