Fractured Breaths

by Zoey Derrick

  I laugh at his logic. His accent is softer now. I’ve heard the man talk in a normal American accent on several occasions, well, until he gets enough liquor in him.

  Woman are always drawn to him, always have been. I’m pretty sure I owe half the woman I’ve ever been with to having him around. Sharing women is something we’ve done frequently, and while I’m not at all into men, he’s definitely open about who and what he is.

  The music in the club shifts.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Who the hell dances to this shit?” I snort.

  Liam turns his eyes toward the stage. “Apparently she does.”

  I follow his line of sight to a drop dead gorgeous, leggy blonde wearing a cowboy hat, flannel crop top and shorter than should be legal daisy-duke shorts. My jaw falls slack as a remix of my song ‘Somebody’s Cowgirl’ starts to play. It’s been a Top 50 hit for the last fourteen weeks. The longest I’ve ever had a song on the charts.

  Sorcha

  Hip thrust left…

  Hip thrust right…

  Leg up, leg down…

  Grab the pole and spin around.

  Don’t forget to smile… you got this…

  Yup, they are totally eating this shit up.

  Come down off the pole, pull off the hat… shake out the hair and toss the hat.

  It’s the same routine, the same mundane everything.

  Crawl across the floor.

  Dollars everywhere.

  Pick them up, dance in their faces, practically rub their faces in your crotch.

  Smile and bring them between your tits.

  They scream, holler… “Take it off!”

  Dirty bastards.

  But I do it. Every single night I do it over and over again.

  Untie the top. Shimmy a little, slide the top off and give them a little show before moving my hands seductively down my torso to the button on my shorts. I got this, let’s work it.

  Pants unbuttoned, more dollars come out.

  They haven’t even seen my tits. Jesus, these men are pigs.

  I smile when I see the lone woman sitting next to her husband. She’s trying everything she can to prove to him or herself that she’s not enjoying this.

  I love a challenge.

  I take a step back, grab the pole again and swing around it before climbing the pole and flinging myself upside down, right in her direction. I see the smile playing at her lips as I unhook my bra while hanging upside down. I squeeze my tits together before revealing them to her and I get my reward. She blushes bright red. I wink at her.

  I slide my bra and shirt off just in time to put my hands down to catch myself. I slowly gain my balance and release the pole from between my legs before bringing my feet down into a straight split.

  I grab hold of my tits, bringing one up close to my mouth, my nipple is hard as hell as I bring it to my mouth and flick my tongue across it. She blushes further and the guys scream a little louder. Egged on and not wanting to get in trouble for focusing too much on one person, I crawl my way around the stage before I stand up and lean against the pole.

  I seductively lower my shorts as my eyes scan the room. They land on a pair of too bright eyes watching me from the VIP area of the club. The face, I recognize the face, but I can’t place him.

  The panic rises from inside me. His eyes are locked on me as I continue to dance my way around the stage, but I can’t stop my own eyes from finding his. I do my best to tease him, but unlike the woman, there is something different about him. I blow him a kiss before turning my back on him. I see the twitch of a smile before I return to the woman in the front row.

  Deciding to give her a little more than she bargained for, I dance in front of her, leaning off the stage to get closer to her with my arms on either side of her chair.

  “Hello gorgeous, come here often?” I tease and she giggles. Her husband or whoever he is, watches with rapt attention as I chair dance for his girl.

  I bring my tits to either side of her face and shake them slightly. She takes in a deep breath through her nose and she takes in my vanilla cherry scent.

  The song is coming to an end, so I pull myself back. Women are the most fun to tease and of course, to dance for. “I’ll be back,” I mouth and wink. She smiles a little wider and I collect the rest of the money from the group of men and finish out my song.

  I collect my things as Donnie the DJ announces, “Sorcha, ladies and gentlemen, isn’t she fucking gorgeous?” The crowd erupts in cheers as I finish collecting money and move toward the curtain.

  As I do, Mister Bright Eyes is standing at the corner of the stage holding out money for me to take. It isn’t until I’m a foot or so away from him that I see what he is holding out to me.

  I snatch it a little too hard from his hand, give him a wink and disappear backstage just as Scarlet steps between the curtains for her spin onstage.

  I hurry to the dressing room. My mind wanders a thousand miles a minute trying to decide where I met that guy before.

  Seeing someone I know and not recognizing him immediately has me on edge. I start to pack my shit up, ready to bolt from the club, when my boss Harry comes into the room. “Veeps want you.”

  My eyes snap to his and I quickly shake my head. “I have to go.”

  “Like fucking hell you do. They want you, you’ll go.” He steps in a little too close, grabs my arm tightly, and spins me around. “Listen here, princess, you fucking work for me.”

  “Yes, sir,” I mumble.

  “Good, now freshen up and get your ass out there.” He releases me and turns to leave but he turns back just steps from the door. “Forty percent,” he reminds me.

  He says it because he, no doubt, saw the hundred-dollar bill VIP-Man handed me as I left the stage.

  “Yeah, yeah.” My New York accent comes out without meaning to. Harry leaves the dressing room.

  I lean into the mirror, checking my makeup for any flaws. Fidgeting, really. My hands shake and I realize in that moment I am on edge tonight and this is not going to go well. Anyone willing to offer a stripper a hundred dollar bill at the end of a dance spells trouble. Bringing that much attention to myself is not something I strive for. Yes, I’m a stripper, but that doesn’t mean I like the attention.

  Chapter Two

  Innocence Lost.

  Sorcha

  Sometimes, shit happens when you least expect it.

  Tonight is no exception.

  “Thanks, Tiny,” I whisper as one of CatTails' bouncers opens the rope for me.

  In an instant, I see Mister Bright-Eyes looking me up and down. “Howdy, darlin’.” I use my fake Southern accent to entice him a little further, hoping if I hear his voice, I might be able to put two and two together, but he doesn’t say a word. He simply pats his lap, an invitation for me to sit with him.

  I plaster a fake, interested smile on my lips and skirt the coffee table. He opens his legs for me and I set my little bag down, purposefully putting my ass in his face. I hear him breathe in hard as a lull in the music hits at the same time. My fake smile turns a little more real and I wiggle my ass.

  Being a stripper was never my dream job, but it is a job that pays amazingly well. It also beats the alternative. I spent years as a worthless whore. Short of continuing as a prostitute, this is the next best thing. I work at least two nights a week letting creepy old men drool all over me and make good money doing it. Then again, selling my body isn’t anything new.

  I’ve somehow managed to keep it from my best friend. She has no clue. I gave her some line about picking up extra shifts at the restaurant where I supposedly work. She also doesn’t ask for a lot of details, so I don’t have to lie to her beyond telling her I’m going to work. I make enough money to pay my bills, that’s all she needs to know.

  Nothing has changed. The little voice in my head reminds me of this nearly every night since I’ve walked into this club.

  I sit down on his lap. “How we doin', sugar?” I ask him.


  “Better,” he smirks.

  “Got a name?”

  “Kyle.” Hmm, not what I expected.

  “Sorcha.”

  He cocks an eyebrow at me, reading through me. “Your real name?”

  I smirk. “When you give me yours, I’ll give you mine,” I tell him.

  “Fair enough. Can I get you a drink?”

  I shake my head. “I think I’m supposed to ask you that.”

  “No, you’re supposed to ask if I want a dance,” he smirks. If I don’t start dancing soon, Tiny will come in here.

  “So what will it be?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “That’s a loaded statement,” I tell him before standing up.

  The song playing is coming to an end, so let it finish while I set myself up. As much as I enjoy strip-teasing for these guys, he’s already seen what I have to offer, so I reach behind my neck and unhook the halter top I threw on before coming out here.

  Our eyes meet as I do this and I’m lost in them. Distracted and off my game is not something that goes over well with me and it makes me falter a little. “I know you from somewhere,” I share quietly, but I know he heard me when the smile on his lips fades a little.

  “No, you don’t,” he says, his voice a little harsh, but his eyes never leave mine. I do my best to shrug it off when ‘Pour It Up’ by Rihanna starts to play and I know Darby is on stage behind me.

  I start to dance for the mysterious man who calls himself Kyle as the song kicks off. His eyes never leave mine and I can’t seem to pull my own away from him. No matter how hard I try, it’s like I’m entranced by him.

  The song kicks up a notch and I turn around, ceasing our eye contact, giving me a chance to clear my head as I bend over, backing up slightly and bouncing my ass closer to him. He spreads his legs a little wider, granting me access and I take advantage. I back up until I feel his pant legs brush along my skin and then I feel the warmth of his body caress mine. My nipples were hard as pebbles the moment I pulled off my top, but the mix of his body heat and the coolness of the club have them painfully hard.

  I dip down until my ass is rubbing on his crotch. His deep intake of breath is matched by my own. Guys having hard-ons is just a part of the job, but never in the time I’ve been doing this have I felt anything like this. He's definitely packing some heat.

  A spark connects between us and this dance suddenly turns into something so much more than just a little lap dance as a desire I haven’t felt in more than eight years rocks through me.

  My mind races back to that night. The first night I slept with a man, willingly.

  “Where’s Deets?” I ask the guy behind the wheel. I used to think his name was Vinnie, but that was just because it’s easier if I don’t ever learn their real names. Over the last couple of weeks I learned his real name is actually some crazy Italian name, but he’s called Leo for short. He has short black hair and a New York accent, typical for these parts

  “He’s off tonight,” he says as he opens the back door of the Escalade.

  “So you got stuck with me?” My voice betrays the relief I feel, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

  He gives me a shy, sly smile and a little nod that only I can see. He’s handsome. His dark hair is a contrast to his ice blue eyes.

  “Good,” I give him a small smile as I slide into the back of the SUV. He closes the door and slides behind the wheel. “Where we going?” I ask, hopeful.

  “You know I can’t tell you that.” His voice has a softness to it that I’m not used to, it’s oddly comforting.

  “Can’t fault a girl for trying.” I smile and his eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. I slide into the center of the backseat and lean forward. “You’re not like the other guys, are you?” I ask, but he silences me with a ‘Shh’ and points to an inconspicuous spot on the dashboard.

  “I’m just like them all,” he tells me, but there is something in his voice that’s different. Not just the softer edge, but the demeanor behind it. It makes me a little uneasy so I lean back in my seat and say nothing. Though it doesn’t go unnoticed when the black, unmarked vehicle pulls out behind us again.

  You’d think after two weeks of being followed they’d have noticed by now, but they haven’t yet or at least they haven’t given us any indication that they have. Regardless, I sit in silence as Leo drives me toward my destination for tonight.

  After twenty minutes and some obnoxious traffic, Leo pulls in front of a hotel, not one I’ve been too before and I find it rather odd Fat Tony would allow this to happen, but I let it go as Leo parks the car and turns off the ignition. “What are you-” he cuts me off with a finger to his lips, telling me to shut up.

  “You’re here,” he says and climbs out of the car, skirting the front bumper to my door. He opens it and I slide out as best I can in the super tight, charcoal grey shift dress. My heels click against the concrete as I do. Leo, ever the gentleman, extends his hand to me and I take it as he helps me out of the vehicle. He wraps his hand around my waist, pulling me against him. His erection presses between us along the small of my back. I groan as real desire rushes through my veins.

  “Where’d you go?” A deep voice interrupts my memory and I am suddenly back in the dingy strip club and I’m no longer dancing.

  “I’m sorry, I…” What do I tell him?

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says softly as the song ends.

  “No, I have to worry about it.” Panic rises as I realize I never finished my dance for him. Shit. The next song starts and its Britney Spears’s ‘I’m a Slave 4 U’ and I do my best to make up for the first one. “This one’s on me.” I give him a reassuring smile but he’s not buying it. His eyes are searching mine, hoping to see something in them and it makes me even more uneasy. But I do my best, giving him what he’s paying for.

  Breaking eye contact with him leaves me feeling cold and alone, but I can’t bring myself to turn around and look at him again. There is some part of me that feels like he’s going to see right through my façade and read all my secrets. We can’t have that.

  LIAM

  “What do you mean you lost her?”

  “Exactly that. Somewhere in Northern California. Her trail went cold. We can only assume she’s dead or she took on a whole new identity and this time, she got it right.”

  “But if we can’t find her, how do we know they can’t?” I ask Declan. He’s the last of my ears and eyes inside the Bureau where I used to work.

  “You just answered your own question, my friend. If we can’t find her, neither can they.”

  “Well, I’ve found her,” I tell him sternly.

  “What do you mean, you’ve found her?” Declan’s shock is evident through the phone. “Where is she?”

  “About forty feet away from me.”

  I end the call as the song ends. The girl I spent two years searching for, the girl I believed to be dead, is very much alive.

  BRYAN

  “Thank you,” I tell her as I hand her three hundred dollars.

  “I can’t take this.”

  “Sure, you can,” She hands me back two of the three bills.

  “No, I can’t. If I take that, I have to pay him.”

  “It’s our secret.”

  She snorts, “Thanks, but nothing is a secret in this club.”

  Behind Sorcha, my dancer for the last fifteen minutes, comes Liam. He’s carrying three drinks in his hands. “Stay,” I insist.

  She leans down and whispers in my ear, “If I stay, you’ll have to pay for my time.”

  “Good, then stay.”

  I can tell she’s racking her brain for some excuse to get out of here, but she smiles at me then stands up. “If you want me stay, ask me to dance again.”

  “Then dance again.” I wink at her and she shakes her head.

  “I could take you in the back for a little more one on one attention,” she offers.

  “Drinks are here.” Liam’s accent rings through as he sets do
wn what he brought from the bar.

  At the same time, Sorcha freezes in place and her eyes narrow on me.

  “Help yourself, lass,” Liam says.

  Sorcha slowly turns around and studies the man standing next to her. Two things happen at once. First Liam smiles sweetly at her in a way I’ve never seen before. The look is meant to be reassuring, but Sorcha, well, her eyes go wide, her body shakes in a way I can only describe as fear before looking from him, back to me then back to him. “Leo…” she breathes.

  “No, sorry, lass, the name’s Liam.” He extends his hand to her but she refuses to take it. She stares at it intently.

  “No, it’s not,” she snaps before grabbing her clothes and charging through the ropes of the VIP area and disappearing behind the doorway of beaded curtains.

  “What the fuck was that all about?” I ask Liam.

  “Bureau shit,” is all he gives me before slamming back one of the drinks on the table. He surprises me further by slamming back a second one before looking at me. “You ready to go?”

  “Me?” I point to my chest. “This was your idea in the first place.”

  “Right, well, I’m ready to go if you are.”

  I shrug, slam back the last drink on the table, throw a couple hundreds down on top of it and stand up. “One of these days, Bureau business isn’t going to last as an excuse. That girl definitely knows you from somewhere and as far as I’m concerned, you’ve never worked in Phoenix. So…either you need to start talking, or find another place to work.”

  I charge past him toward the door, not bothering to care where I’m going until I’m outside.

  “Bryan, wait.” Liam calls from behind me. “Listen,” he grabs my shoulder and spins me around and continues, “I can’t tell you everything, okay, but I know her, from an undercover job in New York about eight years ago. I can’t go into details, but I just got off the phone with Declan. He’s been looking for her for a few years now.”