by K. M. Scott
Fate, or at least the people around me, seemed to have other ideas, however. Just as I got rid of Stefan, Gemma appeared in front of me for the first time since I hadn’t hired her friend. One of my favorite dancers, she wore an expression that told me I wasn’t one of her favorite people at the moment.
“It was the bruise on her leg, wasn’t it? That’s why you didn’t hire her to dance,” she said as she stared up at me with anger in her eyes.
“She got a job bartending, Gemma.”
Her hands landed on her waist as her right hip shot out. “You know it’s not the same, Kane. You promised me you’d give her a chance and you didn’t. I think it’s because you thought she’d be a problem. Stefan doesn’t seem to have any problems with her, though.”
I tore my gaze away and looked down at my paperwork. “Then it’s a good thing he wanted her to work for him.”
Gemma tapped her finger on the papers I pretended to study. “I think there’s something else going on here. She told me how mean you were to her from the moment you met her. You’ve never been that way with me or any of the other girls. Why were you like that with her?”
I lifted my head to see her stare boring holes in me as she waited for an answer. I had none to give her. I didn’t know why I’d reacted that way to Abbi, but from the very first moment I saw her, the need to push her away warred with an intense desire to protect her. I couldn’t explain either feeling.
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Gemma? You still have three hours left on your shift.”
Unsatisfied with my answer, she turned to leave, but stopped and turned back to face me. “I want you to know something. Three nights before her interview, Abbi’s boyfriend beat the hell out of her. When I brought her to my house, she offered me every last cent she had to thank me for helping her. That person you so easily dismissed because you saw a few bruises needed a break, and you refused to give her that. Thankfully, Stefan, of all people, isn’t like you. I thought you were better than that, Kane. Now you can fire me or do whatever you want for saying this, but it’s the truth.”
The thought that Stefan had chosen to be a better person than I had bothered me almost as much as Abbi working under him. “Go back to work, Gemma.”
She marched away, still angry with me, as I reeled from her words. She’d struck a nerve. That she didn’t understand why I’d refused to give Abbi a job didn’t matter. That I’d done what I did for Abbi as much as myself didn’t matter either.
Fuck! Why did this girl get under my skin?
After catching Samson as he headed off on his break and lying that I needed to handle something with one of the members, I found myself walking down the stairs toward the bar. I had no idea why, but something inside me pushed me to see her. Maybe it was the guilt trip Gemma had laid on me. Maybe it was Stefan’s suggestion I stop down to see how well she was doing.
Whatever it was, ten minutes later I stood just a few feet away from the bar watching Abbi serve drinks to half a dozen men falling over themselves to talk to her. Her long blond hair tumbled over her shoulders down to her elbows, and she casually pushed it off her face each time it fell into her eyes. The movement made her seem awkward and innocent, and the men in front of her loved it. Just in case that didn’t make them fall hard, her big blue eyes focusing on them as she pretended to listen to every word they uttered did the trick. She looked like an angel, and with each smile she flashed the customers, I saw Stefan’s quarterly income column swell along with every cock in the room.
“Nice to see you took my advice and came down,” Stefan said in a loud voice next to me.
I turned to see his shit eating grin and knew whatever I felt for Abbi was crystal clear, at least to him. “Don’t make this something it’s not, Stefan. I just decided to come down to see Cash.”
Raising his eyebrows to show me he knew I was full of shit, he said, “As you well know, Cash and Olivia are down on Gasparilla Island until next week. He told us two days ago at our meeting. Remember?”
Nabbed.
“Let’s get a drink,” he said as he walked toward the section of the bar where Abbi stood.
I followed him, secretly hoping the music would stop for long enough that I could at least ask how she liked it down here. The crowd of men scattered as I edged my way to the bar to stand next to Stefan, and for the first time since she’d danced for me my eyes met hers. She smiled at her boss and then me, making me think her friend had taken her not getting hired upstairs far worse than Abbi had.
Leaning forward, she smiled even broader at Stefan and said over the music, “Hey, Stefan! What can I do for you, boss?”
He turned toward me and said, “I brought someone down to say hi.”
Abbi looked at me and in an icy voice that belied her sweet smile said, “Mr. March.”
As I tried to keep the disappointment off my face, I heard Stefan laugh. “Oh yeah, I’ll leave you to it.”
Surprised by the cold reception, I leaned forward toward her and said, “Jackson. My name’s not March. I’m only a half-brother.”
As if the music stopped just in time for her to respond, suddenly it went quiet and she said, “I can see that. You’re nothing like your brothers. They’re sweet and friendly, Mr. Jackson.”
Mr. Jackson. Obviously, Abbi hadn’t taken my rejection as well as I’d hoped. She leaned back to focus on the guy who’d pushed his way next to me, but I slid my hands out to the side along the bar to give him the clue that I wasn’t done yet. Much smaller than I, he understood my body language immediately and backed off.
“Abbi, I hear from Stefan you’re doing well down here.”
Her smile faded just enough to let me know she didn’t appreciate my comment. If I hadn’t understood that, what she said next made it perfectly clear. Placing her hands on the bar, she leaned in toward me and said, “I would have done fine up there with you too, but you decided not to give me that chance. Now do you need a drink, Mr. Jackson, or may I pay attention to paying customers?”
Gemma hadn’t lied. Abbi certainly was tougher than she looked. Feeling defensive, I blurted out, “Jack neat” and worked to keep my expression from showing how her words had affected me.
She flashed me a forced smile and turned back toward the wall of liquor bottles. Grabbing the Jack Daniels off the shelf above her, she pounded it down onto the bar. “There you go. Enjoy, Mr. Jackson.”
I didn’t take my eyes off Abbi, but I saw in the mirror behind the bar the guy next to me looked stunned. Sure I didn’t want to stick around for any more of her anger, I grabbed the neck of the bottle and stormed off toward the stairs to head back to where I belonged to down as much Tennessee whiskey as it took to forget I’d ever had any ideas about this woman.
Stefan caught up with me before I got away and pulled me aside, no doubt to rub my nose in it after watching Abbi reject me. His grin told me he’d enjoyed the show. “Planning on drinking tonight, Kane?”
“Fuck you, Stefan.”
“I’ve always wondered what it would look like when you actually tried to seduce a woman. Now I know why you don’t do it.”
“Enjoying yourself? Is this why you wanted me to come down here?”
“No. I thought since she mentioned you a few times that she might like you too. Guess I was wrong, huh?”
“Fuck off, Stefan. And just in case you plan on coming up to tell me any more about your bartenders, don’t. I’m not interested.”
I left my half-brother and headed upstairs where I belonged. It had been a mistake to think I should make an effort to be something I wasn’t.
* * *
EVER SINCE I was a kid, the surest way to make me want something was to tell me I couldn’t have it. Once an idea made its way into my mind, it was there for good until I did something about it. The problem was with Abbi I couldn’t do anything. Fuck, I didn’t even understand why I wanted to do anything about her. Yes, I liked her from the minute I laid eyes on her, but I’d done the right thing and made sure any
temptation from her ended when I didn’t hire her.
Then why the fuck couldn’t I get her off my damn mind day and night? Two weeks of avoiding the bar and her, and each night as I sat alone with a bottle after everyone had left the club, I thought about her. No matter how drunk I got, all I could think of was her.
It was wrong. I knew it. But it didn’t matter. For every time I told myself nothing good could ever come of her and me together, my mind went back to when I watched her dance, my body coming alive with each moment she was in front of me.
I needed to forget her, but everything I tried only made me think of her more. I’d been successful in avoiding this because I knew how me being with any woman ended. For years, the memory of how I’d hurt the one soul I’d ever cared about had been enough to convince me I had to be alone.
I’d accepted it.
Some people shouldn’t love because all they caused was pain. I’d brought pain since the day I was born. Pain was all I was. My mother knew it. Holly found out too late.
And if I didn’t find a way to fight whatever this was that Abbi made stir inside me, she’d be hurt too.
I knew all of this but still it was her face in my dreams every night.
I made my way down to the bar before the crowds of the evening and the music made talking to another person impossible. How Stefan worked in this every night escaped me, but he seemed to love it. All that noise and all those people packed in like sardines weren’t my ideas of a great workplace.
The ruler of the bar stood at the end talking to three of his bartenders. Tapping him on the shoulder, I wanted to find out if Abbi was on the schedule for that night. I’d try once more to speak to her before I had to devise another way of getting her attention.
“Where’s Abbi, Stefan?”
He looked to his left and right and shrugged. “I don’t see her.”
“Is she scheduled for tonight?”
“I don’t know. Let me look.” He scanned the papers in front of him on the bar and shook his head. “She’s supposed to be here, but she called off.”
“Why?”
He twisted his face into a ridiculous expression. “How the fuck would I know? All I know is she called off.”
Stefan stomped off toward his office, so I walked back upstairs to find Gemma. Hopefully, she knew where Abbi was. Alone in the dancers’ break room, she sat at a table playing on her phone.
“Gemma, why isn’t Abbi at work tonight?”
At the sound of my voice, she turned to face me. Narrowing her eyes, she shook her head. “Why?”
“I want to know.”
“Why? What does it matter if she’s here or not?”
I leaned against the doorframe, already tired of getting no answers from Stefan and now her. “Gemma, I’m asking you why she isn’t here. I’d like a straight answer.”
“Are you going to tell me why you want to know?”
“Gemma!” I bellowed, scaring her. Struggling to keep calm, I lowered my voice and tried to get through to her. “Please tell me why she isn’t here. That’s all I want to know.”
She looked down at the floor and then back up at me. “I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone, Kane. She’ll be furious if she finds out I told you.”
“I won’t tell her I found out from you. Just tell me why she isn’t here.”
“Who else would you find out from? I know she didn’t tell Stefan the real reason why she called off.”
“Jesus Christ, Gemma! Just tell me. It’s not like I’m going to do anything to her.”
She hesitated and then in a tiny voice answered, “She’s at The Carousel Club.”
A hundred thoughts, each one uglier than the one before, tore through my mind. The Carousel Club ranked as the city’s worst strip club. Some of my dancers had spent time there before coming to Club X, and I’d heard horror stories about the place. Negligent owners, patrons who were allowed to grab and fondle the dancers against their will, and a club that stunk of stale beer and desperation couldn’t equal the money that could be made.
“Why is she there?”
“She needs money, Kane. That’s why I asked you to help her out with a job. She thinks you didn’t hire her because she doesn’t have experience, so that’s what she’s getting.”
Gemma continued to explain why Abbi had taken a job dancing at the nastiest club in town, but I wasn’t listening. My mind raced with all the horrible things that could be happening to her at that place. She’d gone there because I refused to hire her here, and now God only knew what they were doing to her over there.
I stormed out to my office to find Samson to watch the floors while I left to head over to The Carousel Club. Pushing the Mustang’s gas pedal to the floor, I tore through the streets over the mile or so to where Abbi was and hoped she hadn’t been hurt already.
The Carousel parking lot teemed with cars, even though it wasn’t even nine o’clock at night. Jesus, these guys liked it early and easy. No membership fees, no background checks, no discerning taste. Just skin and a lot of it at all hours of the day.
I opened the front door and the stench of cigarette smoke and cheap booze smacked me right in the face. Nausea crept up into my throat as I stepped into the club, but I needed to forget that and find Abbi. 80s metal music blared from the low budget sound system, and I scanned the room looking for her face. The lights trained on the center stage, and as the first chords of some Motley Crue song began to fill the room, she shyly walked out onto the catwalk in just pasties and a pink G-string.
The word NO filled every inch of my brain. She shouldn’t be up there with all these pathetic middle aged men leering at her. She was too beautiful, too innocent to be in all this depravity. I couldn’t stand there and watch her dance for these men.
My feet seemed to move before my brain made the decision to take her away from this place. I marched down to the front of the stage and stared up at her. She looked beautiful, even surrounded by all the ugliness. Her eyes closed, she was an angel right there in front of me.
And then she opened her eyes and looked down at me in shock. She stopped dancing and yelled over the music, “Kane? What are you doing here?”
I could have explained that I felt guilty for being the reason she had to work at this shithole. I could have told her how wrong I’d been and how if she wanted a job dancing at my club, it was hers.
I didn’t, though.
Instead, I reached up and wrapped my arms around her legs, throwing her over my shoulder before I turned to walk back up the aisle to the front door. A guy with a greasy comb-over and a cigar hanging out between his yellow teeth who sat at the door simply grinned at me as Abbi kicked and screamed for me to let her go. Something told me this wasn’t the first time he’d seen a woman carried out of there.
“Kane, put me down! Why are you doing this?” she yelled as she pummeled my back with her fists.
She could scream and punch all she wanted, but I wasn’t going to put her down until I got her safely to my car. I reached the Mustang and lowered her to her feet, realizing she still wore only pasties and a G-string. As a carload of young guys spilled out into the parking lot, I quickly took off my shirt and held it out to her so she could at least cover herself.
Abbi yanked the shirt out of my grip and threw it back in my face. “What is this?”
“Put it on and get in the car.”
“You can’t just drag me out of there like a goddamned caveman. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and struggled against her fighting me to cover her with my shirt. “Abbi, I need you to put the shirt on and get into the car, please.”
Planting her hands on my chest, she tried to push me away, but I was too big for her. Frustrated, she gave up, even as she continued bitching me out. “Fine, I’ll wear the shirt, but I’m not going in that car with you. You’re kidnapping me! This is kidnapping!”
She looked adorable in my shirt angrily pointing her finger up at me, thos
e beautiful blue eyes so full of fire. Buttoning the second and third buttons, I tried to calm her down. “I’m not kidnapping you. I just don’t want you to dance for those men. Please get in the car and I promise we can talk then.”
I didn’t know what I said to make her stop fighting me, but she sighed and climbed into the car without any more hassle. Half expecting her to jump out as I drove back to the club, I slid my arm behind her seat and held my finger on the door lock, just in case.
“Kane, you and I aren’t close enough for you to pull the knight in shining armor thing. I needed that job to make more money, so after we do whatever this is, I’m going back.”
As I drove, I tried to make sense of what I’d done. She was right—this could technically be called kidnapping. Not that I hadn’t crossed over to the wrong side of the law before, sometimes for far less honorable reasons. If this is what it took to ensure Abbi’s safety, then kidnapping was fine with me.
She didn’t see it the same way. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flash a look of pure rage at me as I drove. I stopped at a light and turned to face her, knowing I’d probably get more of that Abbi anger. “I’m not letting you go back, so even if you try, I’ll find you.”
“Just who do you think you are? You didn’t hire me, and last I checked, my boss was Stefan, not that he’d ever be crazy enough to track me down and drag me out of a club all the way across town. I don’t need you to save me, Kane, so turn this car around and take me back.”
“No.”
Her eyes grew wide. “That’s it? No? What makes you think I’m not going to jump out of this car at the next light?”
I pulled over and jammed the car into park. Turning my body in the driver’s seat, I hung my head in frustration. This woman was the most infuriating soul I’d ever encountered.
“Abbi, you don’t belong at a place like that. I made a mistake not hiring you to dance at Club X. I’m trying to fix that mistake. That’s all this is.”
She narrowed her eyes to slits and stared at me for a long moment before she spoke again. “Nobody does anything out of the goodness of their heart. I’ve spent enough time on this earth to know that. So what do you want? I have no money. In fact, the only thing I have to trade is what you insisted I cover up in this enormous shirt of yours. So what do you want?”
