by Zoey Parker
Sammy nodded, and when he stepped back from her and looked her up and down again, he had a different light in his eyes this time. “You used to be pretty good on the dance floor,” he said. His gaze focused on her arms, her legs, her waist, the parts of her body that would show strength and power, even under their softness. “Still know how to twirl on a pole?”
She grinned and struck a bit of a pose, one leg out to the side, hip cocked, her hand on her hip. Like a slutty actress on a very different sort of red carpet. “I’ve kept my hand in over the years.”
“You understand I have to ask you to show me.” Sammy’s voice sounded just a little reluctant. “I’m sorry, Tess, I’d take it on faith if I could, but you understand?”
She nodded. “Bringing me on would be a risk. You need to be sure I’m worth it. I get it.”
He sighed just a little. “Thank you, girl. I appreciate it. You have an outfit? Makeup?”
“Of course,” she said. “I’m like one of those scouts, always prepared.”
He pointed down a dim hallway. “Dressing room is down there. Come out when you’re ready, and we’ll see what you have.”
Tess kept up her saunter until she was out of sight, and then her confidence faltered. She caught herself against the wall and took a long, slow breath. If she’d ever thought she could go back to this life permanently, she was wrong. It wasn’t that she was ashamed, never that. But her body… Even before the threat of stretch marks and weight changes that never quite resolved, she didn’t want to live in a world anymore where her usefulness had an expiration date. The prettiest girls danced in the nicest clubs, and as you got older, you were squeezed out of jobs again and again until you wound up in a rundown dive on the outskirts of town, frequented by truckers who only tipped if they got to grope your boobs and get a lap dance. Girls ended up waitressing or hooking in the shitty parts of town, or worse, muling drugs for some pimp who was using the dope to keep other girls whoring for him. Having a steady thing with Toro, there’d been a chance that maybe, eventually, she’d end up running a business of her own; she’d worked hard on showing him that she was smart and savvy as well as incredible in bed and willing to give it up to anyone he sent to her. Without that kind of backing, she’d never make it on her own. Sure, America was the land of opportunity, but opportunity was a hell of a lot easier to come by when you were rich, white, and had a penis.
At that moment, she knew she’d take Milo’s deal, no matter what happened. She liked running her hand over the soft space of her stomach and knowing that there was something there which would, in time, be her baby; more important than that, though, was the knowledge that she’d never have to worry about stretch marks impacting her income. She wouldn’t have to think about what to do when she wasn’t pretty enough to catch someone’s attention anymore.
And she’d make it up to the universe, this incredible stroke of luck that she was catching right now. She’d volunteer at women’s shelters, put in hours at the birth control clinic, work with women who needed to get their GEDs – get hers, for fuck’s sake – absolutely anything in order to make it up to the world that she was going to get out of this downward spiral and get herself safe. Get herself and her baby safe.
She took a long, slow, steadying breath. The first step to making that happen was to show Sammy what she could do on a pole. He’d offer her a job, she knew he would, and then she’d be able to listen for information while she was working and work the other clubs and businesses in the area with Milo the rest of the time. She straightened and went into the dressing room to pull on the dance outfit she’d made a man buy her so she could dance for another man. She stuffed her tits into the top and made sure the bottoms more or less covered her ass. She put on makeup that was just a little too much, too dark and too bold; it would look garish out on the street, but in the darkness of a club, it would be absolutely perfect.
Therese Graham, Sammy had called her, and where he’d picked up that name, she had no idea. She’d been just Tess for a decade. It was a little weird, honestly, but it didn’t matter now. Maybe she’d start using it all again – when Milo found her somewhere safe. Maybe the baby could be a Graham as well.
No, she thought after a moment. Graham was her deadbeat father’s name, and she’d never even met the asshole. She’d stopped using his name because it never reminded her of herself, just him. The baby would have Milo’s last name. And if he didn’t want that, she’d make one up. Make one up for both of them.
She settled her boobs one more time, and when she followed the pathway to the stage, she was grinning for real.
Sammy was ready with music; he called out a list of songs he had available, and she picked one that she’d been practicing for. She had a couple of routines that could be adapted to just about anything with a strong beat, but this one had good timing and showed off the strength in her arms. She struck her easy pose, and then went into the routine on the beat, letting muscle memory take over. This was why she’d kept practicing, no matter what was happening in her day to day life. You couldn’t be thinking about moving your leg this way or pointing your hand just so when you were dancing, and she didn’t care if the stage was in front of thousands and a proscenium or in the back of a smoky bar. You had to be able to let your body do the movements and bring your heart out in the details. She was rusty – she’d hardly been able to practice while Milo had her chained to the bed – but as she sank into the beat and the moves, she found her way. She trembled a little on some of her lifts, and her leg wraps were just a little off, but she didn’t fall or hit her head, or any other humiliating thing that she’d seen happen to girls who were trying too hard. Her bottoms also did not try to crawl up her ass, which she appreciated. She hadn’t been able to find any double-sided tape in the dressing room and had forgotten to bring her own.
When the music died out as she struck her final pose, she glanced out into the room. If the club were open, it would be dark and dim, the faces of those on the floor more shapes than realities. Now, with the lights mostly on, she could see Sammy in the front, clapping gently and grinning at her. But in the back of the room, she could see Milo. He stood against the wall like a living statue made of shadow, but there was something on his face. It came shockingly close to awe.
She had a funny idea that she’d done a lot more just now than show off for someone who was close to an old friend. She gave a goofy little bow, designed to be “Oh my, are you clapping for me?” kind of humble and cute. She forced herself not to stare at Milo; if Sammy saw a stranger hanging out in the back of the club, she’d be tossed out on her ear so fast. But she found herself wanting to kiss him, climb him like a tree, and tell him that he could have her for everything he’d ever wanted, and see how fast he ripped these pants off her. She wanted to call him Daddy again and hear him snarl.
“So, what do you think, Sammy, do you have a spot for me?”
“I know just the place.” He grinned at her.
She glanced up again, and her shadow statue was gone.
Chapter Sixteen
Milo didn’t let the door slam behind him as he pushed his way out of Assets, his chest heaving as he tried to get himself under control. Seeing Tess dance like that – God, the woman was gorgeous, athletic, impressive – drove home how very little claim he really had over the woman. He’d wanted to yank her down off the catwalk, toss her over his shoulder, and drag her back to his cave like some caveman. He’d had to bite back a shout at this Sammy character, who’d been watching her with such a carefully appraising look, and slap the other women who’d been watching her from the side of the bar, whispering behind their hands and giving Tess sideways glances. He wanted none of this and all of her.
He couldn’t have that. He knew better than to think he could. Wanting out of this life wasn’t the same as being out of this life, and it was absolutely fucking crucial that he remembers that. He was quite sure he could get Tess and the baby set up for the rest of their lives, but he didn’t know – couldn’t think – whethe
r or not he’d ever be able to be with them. There were too many factors to consider.
First: he had to track down Toro and deal with this situation before Silk Road decided to deal with it – and him – permanently.
Second: he had to figure out why the fuck Bastille was back in town. They’d grown up together, seen the worst parts of their lives, and Bastille had been there the day that Milo left their instructors in bloody shreds behind him. He would understand why Milo had never looked back – but Milo had also ruined the closest thing to a home, perverted and twisted as it was, that either of them had ever known.
Third: could he even be the kind of man who went home to a family? He’d never considered it, and now it was being shoved in his face. It was one thing to play house with a sexy woman in a hotel room, thinking about setting her up like a little family he could visit when he wanted and leave when the itch got back, but the truth was that he’d never done anything but murder. Could he really wake up and go to sleep in the same place, day after day? In the front of his head, it sounded happy and reassuring. But it was the back of his head, as always, that concerned him.
What if he tried, really tried, and found out he was still a monster? That his hands were bloody, no matter how hard he washed them. What would he do? Who would he be then? What would happen with Tess – with the baby – if he up and left after saying he’d stay?
For the first time in his life, he thought he might understand what panic felt like.
Milo put his hands on his knees and forced himself to slow his breathing. Slow his heartbeat. Focus on the physical sensations around him, just like he did when he was following a target, and the adrenaline started to get too high. Cool and dispassionate; that was how the job got done.
Tess was in there a lot longer than a person needed to be to get hired – and after that routine, there was no chance Sammy wouldn’t offer her a job. Milo had been to enough strip clubs and dance clubs to know that Tess was something else, even if she was rusty like she’d said – but he forced himself to stay cool. She’d insisted that Sammy wasn’t the type who’d want to sample the goods and be sure the girl would put out before he’d make an offer. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t offer her some kind of bonus. Tess wasn’t Milo’s; she could do whatever she wanted. Hell, if she thought he needed the information about Toro enough, she might be willing.
He wanted to shove the door open, demand that Tess come with him right now, and never ever walk through the door again. He clenched his hand into a fist, drove it into his thigh until he stopped thinking like a madman, and then made himself continue to breathe.
It was about fifteen minutes after that when Tess came out of the club, beaming. She was back in her street clothes – the real ones he’d bought her, not the slutty “give me an interview” outfit she’d put together to catch Sammy’s eye. He liked that, and he didn’t much care if he was a caveman or not. He wanted his woman just a little hidden away. He wanted to show her off, but he didn’t want anyone to see everything that was his.
“How’d it go?” Milo asked.
Tess grinned and leaned up to kiss his cheek. His cock jumped in his pants, and he tried to pretend it hadn’t. He doubted he was very successful. “Sammy hasn’t heard anything about where Toro is, but he says the paychecks are coming in the same as always, so he doubts that Toro’s really left town. Wouldn’t he close up his accounts and run for it if he was running? There are a million places better to store money than banks in the U.S. so there’s no way he’d do that. Right?”
Milo nodded slowly. “I can’t believe he’d be stupid enough to still be drawing from those accounts directly, but it’s been a long time since he had to run. Maybe he’s that stupid. It’s worth checking out.” Tess absolutely beamed, looking so proud of herself that he wanted to pick her up, spin her in a circle, and kiss her until she begged for him to fuck her right there in the street.
But no. No. He’d arranged a surprise for her, and she was going to get the damned surprise.
“I set up a thing. You should see it.”
She gave him a long, slow look. He couldn’t blame her; he wondered how many really positive surprises she’d gotten in her life. He made himself put on the big smile, the one that made people believe that he was such a nice guy. It didn’t fool her for a second, though, and he put enough effort in to make his face relax into a softer, more typical expression for him. That got her shoulders to settle down a little bit.
“Tell me about the thing.”
“It’s really more of something I need to show you. And it’s going to be a bit of a drive. Is that okay with you?”
She paused a little longer than he would have liked, but not as long as he’d been afraid of. “Yeah, okay.”
They drove for about forty minutes out of the city. They were out of the city proper and pushing out into the farthest suburbs when Milo pulled the car to the curb. They were in front of a white Victorian two-story home with an attached garage and a nice front lawn. Tess looked at it for a little bit, then looked at Milo, who was sitting with his hands on the steering wheel.
“It’s pretty,” she said. “Why are we here?”
Milo smiled a bit. “Let’s go inside.”
Tess stared some more, then shrugged. She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid out of the car, following Milo up the grass. For the second time today, Milo felt his heart slamming against his ribs. It shouldn’t matter what she thought of him. This was about setting her up after he’d put her in a tough situation. And he was only sort of thinking about the baby. He knew what life was like for girls who had to live on the largess of some kind of kingpin. It looked like nothing but silk and furs on the outside, but there was a lot of coerced sex, a lot of drugs, and not a lot of security on the inside. It would almost be better for her if he’d actually killed Toro; she could have cleaned out whatever cash she could find and taken off. She seemed like a girl who was smart enough to have survived on a couple hundred grand for a long time.
But she’d lost that protection, and she’d lost what chance she had to be remembered in the old bastard’s will. And maybe it was chauvinistic to assume she needed a man to take care of her, but also, he could, so he was going to damn well do it.
He led her up to the front door, fished a key out of his pocket, turned the deadbolt, and pushed the door open. “Welcome to your new home.”
She froze and stared at him, long and hard. “Milo.”
“Tess.”
“What are you talking about?” She was using the kind of slow, level voice that you used to talk a crazy person down off a ledge, and it made him want to laugh. He choked back the sound, but he wanted to laugh, very much. She wouldn’t understand if he burst out cackling.
“I have a number of houses in a number of places. In different names. It makes different identities more real and fleshed out if they’re paying monthly utility bills. This is just one of them. It’s closest, so I figured it would do for now while we’re figuring out – while I’m figuring out – what my next step is in terms of Toro. If you like this one, you can keep it. If you don’t, I’ll take you to every one I own until you find one that suits you.”
She stared at him with narrowed eyes. “What are my choices?”
He shrugged. “London, Paris, Beijing, Kyoto, Moscow. Small towns you haven’t heard of. Pick a climate.”
“You’re serious.”
“I told you. I’ll take care of you. Baby or no baby, I want to help.”
He wondered if Tess realized that she’d crossed her arms over her belly, just a little bit. “Tell me why.”
“What?”
She shook her head hard, and he thought maybe she was biting back tears. “Tell me why you want to help.”
He was pretty sure that an answer about how he was just that kind of guy wasn’t going to get the job done. He needed – wanted – her to believe what he was saying. “I had a pretty shitty childhood. I know I told you about some of it. There’s worse stuff in there that I
just—I don’t talk about. Not to anyone. Not ever. And whether I’m in this kid’s life or not, I want—I need to know that it’s better off than I am. Then I was.”
She was quiet for a long time, her gaze focused on the floor. Her hand kept tracing over her belly, where it would swell in the coming months. Would he be around to feel the baby kick? To take her to OBGYN appointments and hear the heartbeat? Or would he be dead in a ditch or weighted down in a river because he didn’t know how to be an actual person?
It was time to find out.
“Let me take you on a tour.”
Chapter Seventeen
Tess let Milo lead her around the house and tried hard to keep her astonishment in her head. A full-size kitchen, more bathrooms than she’d kept track of, three bedrooms, a finished basement, a sunroom, an office… She kept waiting for him to show her the indoor pool. When she cracked that joke, he pointed out that there was a regular pool, but a covered hot tub.
This was insane. She was delirious or crazy or having a psychotic break, or who knew what was even happening. This wasn’t real, it wasn’t her life. She hadn’t been dancing around a pole an hour ago and now standing in a gorgeous house with expensive furnishings and tasteful decor and sweater sets and pearls in a nice neighborhood. This could not possibly be her life. This wasn’t how things went for her.
