Trigger (Pericolo #3)

by Kirsty-Anne Still

  She’s clearly noticed I’m struggling to keep all optimism in my voice.

  “That doesn’t pay bills,” I tell her honestly, completely ignoring the way Dante focuses on me. “I haven’t been in years, so another one won’t matter. Plus, being here is a brilliant distraction for me.” It’s now I offer a genuine smile because I’m telling the truth. I can get lost here. “Now, go.”

  I watch them leave and finally put the book back. I finally breathe and struggle on with my day when I make it back to my spot far from the door.

  ***

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Erm, I’m sorry,” I apologize, unsure what I’ve done wrong.

  “Don’t apologize. Why didn’t you tell me it was the anniversary so soon after we sat and spoke about it?”

  “Because I don’t talk about it,” I admit, giving him a weak smile. “It’s not normal for me to have people know the exact ins and outs of my life, so no one ever knows when the day is.”

  “So, you said yes to work even though...”

  I’m quick to interject him here. “They died, Jackson. We had this chat. I can’t stop my life because one day a year is marked by their deaths.” I give him a reassuring smile. “Dante wanted me to go off with him at some point, but I’d rather be here.”

  “I’d rather you be here, too,” he admits, putting his arm around me to lead me back out to the floor. “Jodi would as well.”

  I cock a brow, looking at him sideways. “Nothing’s ever secret between you two, huh?”

  “No way!” he exclaims quite happily. “That girl has me by the balls and I couldn’t care less about it.”

  I laugh, but it’s not a full, hearty laugh. I can’t master them today.

  “Sure you want to go up there?” Jackson asks me, nodding to the stairs. “I know you’re up next, but you won’t focus properly. We both know it.”

  “I’ll be fine,” I admonish his concern. “You’ll see.”

  As I walk up the stairs, my first instinct is to look over at the middle booth. My heart sinks as I see a group of guys occupying the booth, not Dante. It’s laughable because I knew he wouldn’t be here. As I head toward the pole, I take note of all the eyes on me. They’re waiting for me to bring them to their knees, make them want to throw their money, but tonight, I just don’t know if I can.

  As the music comes on, I close my eyes. I tell myself to do this, to get myself back on track. I start to rock my body, opening my eyes so I can reach out for the pole. I pull myself forward, arching my body to twist around the cold, silver post. I lose myself in the motions, let the beat take over from my drumming thoughts, and strive to make it to the end of, at least, one track.

  One particular guy keeps catching my eyes every time I spin around to face the front. I deliberately take a moment to look at him and find the gaze he watches me with is a little too intense. He’s not someone I recognize and the coldness of his face has my skin crawling. He’s not particularly good looking, but he clearly has money from the crisp suit he’s wearing.

  He puts me off. He’s the final straw that causes me to do just one song before giving up. It’s as if all the other men are inconsequential. They’re all watching, but he did more than watch. He had intent in his eyes. I’ve not felt that being up there on the stage, and I don’t like it one bit.

  I come down from the stage, not exactly buzzing from my performance, but Jackson predicted I wouldn’t be able to give my all while my head was so conflicted.

  “I told you not to go up there,” Jackson mocks. Even though he’s being sarcastic, I can pick up on his concern.

  “I’d have been okay if the guy in the green sweater hadn’t been jeering at me,” I remark, pointing across the club at the stranger. He catches us watching and leaves the spot to get lost in a group of men. “I don’t know what he was doing, but he wouldn’t look away from me.”

  “He’s not doing anything wrong but being more of a pervert than most. I’ll keep an eye on him and get a few guys to keep watch of him.” Jackson looks over at the two unruly bodyguards and waves them over. “You okay to wait on tables while I talk to them?”

  “Yeah,” I tell him, thankful he’s clearly taking note.

  As I go over to the bar, I take a moment to look for the man; he’s still watching me, and it does unnerve me a little. I take a few minutes to recalibrate before I start my job.

  “He’s a creep, right?” Clarissa remarks, taking note of where I’m looking. She curls her lip up with disgust and leans in closer to me. “He’s name is Brian Tanwell. He picks a new girl to stare at every night he comes in. Apparently, it’s you tonight.”

  “Well, that’s just great,” I mutter, taking a notepad and heading to the crowd to take drink orders.

  It’s not long before the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I know he’s behind me as I walk to the bar. I’m on the far side of the club right now, but I caught sight of him edging to the end of the main crowd. I wonder if Jackson is really watching him because now would be the right time. I give myself poise and turn around to ask him politely what he was after. However, in doing so, I apparently give him opportunity. He takes the moment to fall into me, pushing me toward the wall as we stumble.

  He rights himself and gives me a leering grin.

  “I’ve waited all night for this.” He pushes me back, but I prepare to step away. “I’ve been watching you all evening.”

  “That’s nice,” I remark, commenting as politely as I possibly can. “I hope you enjoy the other girls as well.”

  “Oh, I do,” he comments, stepping closer. “But the things I want to do with you have never entered my mind where they are concerned.”

  “I have to go. Those drinks won’t serve themselves,” I excuse myself.

  I move away and he reaches for my hand. It causes me to startle, twisting my ankle as I jump with fright. It happens all at once, but I land on my ass with a solid thud and I’m left vulnerable as this stranger looks down at my hapless form with delight.

  “Ryleigh!” Jackson screams out from across the club. I push backward across the floor, moving out of the way of this man. Even with Jackson advancing toward me, he still follows me. “Are you okay?” Jackson asks, coming straight to my aid. “I saw you fall.”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just get that sick asshole out of here!” I exclaim, allowing Jackson to help me up to my feet. My ankle is a little tender, but it’s not enough to stop me from getting away from this creepy bastard. “I don’t know what sort of club you think this is, but you seem to be mistaken!”

  “No, I was at the right club,” he remarks, his eyes dropping down to course over my nearly naked form. “Just searching for the right girl, that’s all, and then I found you.”

  “Oh, get him out of here!” Jackson declares, throwing orders around. “I want him out of here and banned.” He diverts his attention back to me, putting his back to the leering stranger as he gets marched out of the club telling me he’ll see me soon. “Wait until I tell Dante about that fucker.”

  “I thought you weren’t talking still?” I mutter, somewhat sardonically. I notice the somber look that graces his face, and I give him a small, reassuring smile. The same Jodi gave me earlier. “I’m sure Jodi will do anything if you tell her you played hero again. I’ll even vouch for you. Get your kudos with the wife.” I give him a wink. “Is it okay if I put some extra clothes on and go and work behind the bar with George? I’m not in the mood to be paraded around.”

  “Sure,” he allows, giving me a wink. “Anything for you, Ryleigh.”

  “You’re only being nice to me because of your wife,” I tease, leaving him laughing.

  I walk into the staff room and make a beeline for my cubbyhole. I tear my dress from the hook and quickly start to slip it over my body. In all the time I’ve worked here, I’ve never wanted to cover up quite so quickly.

  “Are you okay, Ryleigh?” Clarissa asks, rushing into the room. “I had no idea he was going to do
that. Honestly. He’s gotten close to us, and there was one time he grabbed Alex’s hand, but he’s never done anything like he just did with you.”

  “It’s okay,” I reply, albeit weakly. “You didn’t know, but he’s gone now.” I shrug, giving her a small grin. “Go back. I’ll be out in a moment.”

  She hesitates, but ultimately scurries from the room, allowing me a chance to zip myself into my dress.

  “You sure you okay?” Jackson asks, standing propped in the doorway of the staffroom. “You don’t have to stay here. You can go home.”

  “I’m not going to go home because of some pervert. It does sum up my day though, doesn’t it?” I ask, mocking myself. “I’m going to head outside. I just need some air. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  “Take my jacket with you,” he says, shrugging his suit jacket off me. “There’s a bit of a chill outside tonight. I’ll be out to check on you once I’ve dealt with this fucker.”

  “Thanks,” I say, grateful for Jackson right now.

  I turn and go to the fire exit of the staffroom. I push down on the bar and allow myself to step outside. Allowing the door to slam behind me, I walk further outside, hugging Jackson’s coat around me a little tighter. I walk down the alleyway, allowing what little light there was to cover me. Jackson knows I am out here, and this is a harmless enough place. I know in a few minutes Jackson will come out to find me.

  I start to pace. Gravel moves and glass breaks under my every step.

  I know my foul mood isn’t entirely just due to my family. Dante is playing upon every fragile heartstring I have, and he doesn’t even know it. Jackson saved me, but I wished it had been Dante. What does that make me? I fell in love over the course of a few days. Is love even this instant? Sure, we watched one another from afar for months, but we only started something a few weeks ago. I guess the pain I sensed told me more than my head ever could. I didn’t want to suffer at the hands of love, but I had made it so. I had fallen completely, wholeheartedly, and devastatingly for the wrong man. I forced myself to bear that cross.

  My train of thought is broken as I’m thrust against the wall and I feel every hair on me start to stand on end. I try to make out the face in the minimal lighting, and it isn’t until he moves that I realize whom it is.

  “Remember me, sweetness?” Brian’s voice whispers to me as he presses me against the wall. “I told you I’d see you soon.”

  “Please,” I beg almost immediately, trying to pry myself out from between his body and the cold wall. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “I don’t or you don’t?” he asks me.

  My answer isn’t an audible one. Instead, I fight him, showing him I won’t be an easy lay for him. I won’t allow him to have his way with me. No, I’m going to fight him off and run out the front to get to the bodyguards and have them kill this guy. I know they can’t hear me from here. When you’re by the doors, all you can hear is the thump of the music. It hinders anything else.

  “Stop fighting me.”

  I don’t. My response is to bring my knee up and smack him into the groin. He drops to his knees, holding onto himself as he breathes out with difficulty. As he remains on the floor, I move out from before him, taking my opportunity to run. However, he grabs onto my ankle, forcing me to trip, and I meet the ground with a harsh thud. He starts to climb up my body, and I lash out. I’m not prepared to allow this creep his chance.

  “Get off me!” I scream, kicking him in the face.

  He releases me and I take that as my opportunity to get up and run. I see the entrance of the alley coming closer and I think I’ve made it until he catches up. He grabs me from behind and forces me against the wall. His hand wraps around my throat, causing me to panic. I can see now how the heel of my stiletto cut his face open, but it hasn’t deterred him. If anything, he looks more prepared for what he’s premeditated.

  “Fucking do that you again, little bitch. I dare ya,” he taunts, pressing all of his fingers into my neck. I choke against his hold, wishing to breathe. “Quit it.”

  I still struggle. I’m unable to give up my will to him.

  He pulls me forward, the pressure on my throat multiplying, and I struggle to breathe. With one forceful slam, he throws me against the wall, my head connecting with the brickwork so heavily my entire world spins.

  “I like them better when they’re easier,” he mutters, his words echoing in my pained head.

  I feel a tear escape my eye as he starts to hitch my dress up, but I can’t save myself. I hit out, but my motions are slow, almost drunkenly executed, as my head swims and swirls. I can see the hazy edge of my gaze and I know I stand no chance.

  As he slams me back against the wall again, he pins me there; his aching body against mine, his leg spreading mine further apart. He looks up at me, reaching to my cheek to rid my tears. I look into his eyes; they’re dark and evil. Unlike the evil smirks Dante wears, this one makes me fearful. This one tells me I’ll never be the same after tonight.

  “Don’t cry. You’ll enjoy it after a few minutes. I promise.”

  He takes a precious moment to slam my head against the brickwork again, and I remember nothing else but his fingers creeping between my legs.

  I never had a hero, and I never will. This is proof enough.

  13DANTE

  I throw my door shut; the slamming resonates down the desolate street. Uncaringly, I lock it and start to head toward the club. Ever since my lunch with Jodi, I’ve been building up my courage to come here and find the words to apologize to Jackson.

  Today has provided a lot of clarity for me. Between Ryleigh’s defiant attitude and Jodi’s unwillingness to let me forget my rift with Jackson, I’ve found I’ve needed to clear the air. I need to reaffirm what it is I want in life because, right now, I haven’t a fucking clue.

  It all starts with making amends with my brother.

  As I stalk toward to the door, I hear a grunt and a strangled cry, and it causes me to stop. I’m right next to the alleyway beside the club, so I bristle, straining to look. As my eyes focus, I notice movement just beyond the overhead light down the alley. I inch closer, trying to make out the noise and the shapes. It’s a struggle, but all at once, I catch sight of a man pushing a defensive girl against the wall of the club. I make sure my movements are slow, premeditated so as not to cause a noise, and I creep further into the darkness.

  Immersed in black, my eyes start to adjust quickly, depicting shadows and shapes with sharpened ease. It’s now, as my feet carry me a little forward, that I see what’s actually transcending before me. My blood begins to thicken as it races, boiling with rage. The sight of the girl’s skirt hitched up around her waist, his hand greedily wrapped around her neck as the other fights to rip her panties, causes me to break into a run.

  I waste no time. It’s unlike me to be the hero, but since Ryleigh, I’ve seen the girls who work at our bars differently. I may ogle and may be one of those who have objectified them, but now I realize they all have a story for winding up here, and not one of them deserves this. I pull him off her, but her freedom causes her to fall to the floor in one solid lump.

  My clenched fist flies around to hit the fucker square on the jaw. Pain explodes in my hand, resonating up my arm. I love that feeling; it’s what gets my adrenaline pumping. I don’t go easy on him; I pound my fist down onto his face, reworking it into a bloody mess. When I finally take a step back, he looks up at me, sniveling and cowering with fear.

  “Thought you’d have a go with a girl who clearly didn’t want you?” I ask him, towering over him in the darkened alleyway. “Clearly you had to make her easy so she’d even give you a minute of her time.” I slam my foot into him, making sure I connect with his kidney, causing him to howl in pain. “Men like you sicken me!” I issue another kick. “Now, you’ll wait there so I can deal with you in a moment.”

  “W-what are you going to do with me?” he asks, stammering with fear.

  It’s what I love about cunts like
him. They’re all macho until they meet that bigger fish they believed never existed. Once they meet a man willing to rain down hell on them for their poor, disgusting actions, they become weak and insubordinate.

  I scoff as I start to back away. “I’m the least of your worries for today. I’m sure you’ll see me soon.”

  As the fear manifests into a fever pitch, I look back, prepared to help the female I noticed had fallen onto the road. All I wanted to do was hand her over to the security and leave after telling them this fucker was still here.

  “Hey,” I call out, approaching her still figure. “Hey, miss?”

  She remains unresponsive and my heart thuds. This fucker really did a number on her. I move her hair, trying to catch her face to see if he’d injured her badly, but what I find chills me to the bone far more than anything in my life.

  “Ryleigh...”

  Her name unravels from my lips like a dying man’s final breath.

  I look back at the beaten bastard, seeing only bursts of crimson invade my vision. I take one quick look at Ryleigh, forcing myself away from her side for just a few minutes. Incensed, I charge. I don’t care for him, not for what he’s done to her. He means nothing to me. She, at the very least, means something.

  I reach down, grabbing him by the collar of his cheap suit and drag him up so he’s standing. I throw him into the wall with force. I’m seething. Everything I have felt over the passing weeks comes together, colliding with bitter violence. I’m volatile here, and touching her, my little wolf, leaves him no reason to breathe.

  I approach him, trapping him wholly as my arm comes out to pin him by his neck. I begin to press my entire weight against his throat causing him to struggle to breathe. I watch as his eyes widen. His face starts to redden, and I watch him fight for his life.

  “You wanna touch my girl like that, do you?” I ask him, issuing a firmer press. “I told you I would deal with you on another day, but not now. You won’t be making out of this alleyway alive, you hear me?”

  His hands come up to start fighting me off and I allow him to think I’ve granted him mercy. I release him, allowing him to fall forward coughing and spluttering to get air back into his lungs. I rock backward, giving him some peace for all of two seconds before I clench my fists at my sides, allowing my knuckles to burn with the tightness. As he remains bent forward, I throw my fist into his fallen form and smack his stomach. He falls down to his knees, coughing hoarser than ever.