by Shara Azod
“I d-d-did. But, it’s where she’s always lived.” Beads of sweat popped out on David’s brow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “The apartment complex is where she’s from, isn’t it?”
Edward raised an imperious brow as he stared his nephew down. “No, David.
She is from Lafitte, a preacher’s daughter, actually. Didn’t you know?” David made more noncommittal stuttering sounds before plopping down in a chair in front of Edward’s desk as if his legs could no longer bear his weight.
“All of those Saturday night tutoring sessions, and you never thought to ask her real name, or where she was from?” Though his voice may have sounded incredulous, Edward was far from it. This was completely expected; it didn’t make him any less furious, but he wasn’t surprised. “I didn’t give you leave to sit. Stand up.”
“You know what we were really doing?” David squeaked, jumping to his feet.
The panic in his voice confirmed what Edward already knew.
“Tutoring Delilah? Yes, I know that’s what she believed was going on. But that wasn’t the whole of it, was it, David? Your money paid for more than the illusion of private dances, and you will tell me what it was.”
“Delilah? No, I was tutoring a stripper named Cinnamon.” The boy looked genuinely confused, but Edward refused to enlighten him. He waited instead, steepling his fingers until David put two and two together. “Oh! Her name’s Delilah?” Again Edward refused to answer, waiting for his nephew to get around to answering his own question. “Cinn—ah, Delilah— ”
That would be Miss Thomas to you,” Edward cut in. Miss Thomas for now, anyway.
“Why would I…” His nephew’s voice trailed off in a way that let Edward know he’d lost his legendary poker face. Whatever David saw in his expression gave him pause, which was a damn good thing. Edward had never felt so violent; he was in real danger of losing his infamous cool.
“Well, um, it’s well known Miss Thomas won’t, uh, do what other strippers do in that club.” David paused as if that explanation was enough. Edward simply retreated to silence once more, earnestly trying not to give in to the urge to slap the boy across the face. “Well, we had to use one of the upper rooms so no one knew what we were really doing. The guys, my friends, assumed that because she would only see me when we went there, they, uh, assumed…” David looked vaguely ill, but there was no way Edward was helping him out. “I- I- may have led them to believe I’d gotten her to… to, um…. I intimated she was sleeping with me.”
“Sleeping with you?” Edward wanted the full, ugly confession from David’s own lips. He wanted his nephew to be damned by his own words.
“I told them I was sleeping, er, having sex with her.” David looked ready to pass out, but not from the reason he should. But that was something Edward intended to rectify.
“For money?” He pushed. “You told your harebrained friends you had sex with Delilah for money?”
“I – I- I- yes.” David really did think that was the worst of it.
The poor, young fool. Edward felt no pity for him. Quite frankly he was incensed. Why were the young so damned careless with the lives of others?
“And what the hell do you think will happen to her now that a bunch of immature frat boys—spoiled, selfish idiots not unlike yourself—think that she will be willing to do for the right price because of your words?” The more he spoke, the angrier he got. “What happens when one of them, believing your lies, refuses to take no for an answer? Who do you suppose will pay attention to her screams after some over-privileged child pays the sharks she works for to do whatever he feels is his right? Who do you suppose will care about a stripper who has been painted as a whore by you?” Edward was yelling by the time he finished, standing toe-to-toe with the now-cowering young man who was only beginning to understand the magnitude of what he’d done.
David cowered, his eyes wide as saucers as the implications finally sank home. “I didn’t mean any harm. I didn’t think…”
“No, you didn’t think, did you? You just took her back to a disreputable neighborhood, never thinking why I would leave her at the estate house. You honestly believed you were doing some good deed, didn’t you? Saving her from my nefarious plans or some such bullshit.” Edward took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he really did punch his nephew. It took effort. The anger simply wouldn’t go away.
“Next time I hope you put some thought into your actions so no one else has to suffer from your supreme stupidity”
What to do? There was really nothing he could do without David’s consent. As much as he hated to admit it, the boy was legally an adult and not subject to Edward’s authority. With a weary sigh, he waved the boy away. He’d run out of patience, and it was getting late. Something told him Delilah would try to salvage her job, as unwise as that was. That was something he couldn’t allow to happen under any circumstance. Not waiting to see if David left or not, Edward set about preparing for a prolonged absence from work. The exams were written; he didn’t need to be present to administer them.
Given that he only gave exams in essay format, he could grade them from home and enter grades from a personal computer. Accrued vacation and sick time helped tremendously; he had too many days on the books as it stood.
“Uncle Edward, I swear, I didn’t mean any harm.”
He was shocked to see David hadn’t left. Edward had dismissed him so thoroughly he hadn’t realized the boy was still in his office. Admittedly he was relieved to see David possessed some amount of basic human decency and enough of a conscience to understand he’d fucked up royally. That was something at least. Still, there was nothing he could say to the boy at the moment. David didn’t deserve to be coddled from the cruel realities of life; he was supposed to be a man. A man had to consider his actions and how they affected those around him.
“I swear, I will try to find a way to make it right.” With those words David finally left, tail tucked firmly between his legs.
David may be his flesh and blood, but God help that kid if anything happened to Delilah.
Chapter Nine
“Where the fuck have you been, Cinnamon?”
Bull blocked Delilah’s entrance into the locker room, cornering her in an especially dim part of the already darkened hallway. Other dancers rushed by as if afraid to catch Bull’s notice, and Delilah could honestly say she didn’t blame them in the least. Bull was a huge, hard Cajun bayou-bred guy, all beefy and heartless. Those huge meaty fists weren’t strangers to a female’s face.
“Edward Prichard more or less demands my company for the weekend, and you expect me to say no?” God, she hadn’t wanted to do that. If there had been anything else to say she would’ve. Unfortunately for her, Bull was primed and ready for the least bit of resistance. He’d caged her in completely so she couldn’t run. She counted herself lucky he hadn’t swung his fist.
“How much?” His greedy little eyes lit up, saliva forming at the corner of his mouth at the thought of his cut. He was little better that a pimp; actually, in a way that was exactly what he was. Sweat glistened on his bald head at the thought of more money—like he needed more.
Shit, shit and more shit. As a precaution, Delilah had brought as much as she dared with her, and it wasn’t all that much. There was no way she was giving up all she’d managed to save to this asshole. Not to mention she was going to have to use everything she had to disappear. That was very obvious now. Her act of complete stupidity was nothing but a green light for Bull to push her to have sex with whoever paid Bull enough. How idiotic to think for a second he would’ve taken some half-assed sick excuse. As soon as she’d seen his ruddy face, she’d known that wasn’t going to fly.
There was no way she could work here any longer, and coming in tonight had been a huge mistake. Damn it, she had to get out of here.
“The
kid
and his Daddy Warbucks uncle?” Bull flashed his disgusting but expensive grill in a sneer than made her want to t
hrow up. A big-ass white dude with a mouth full of gold looked all kinds of wrong; but then what mouth looked right with that amount of gold caps?
And what the hell did he mean by the kid? Not once had she ever even pretended her sessions with David were sexual. She’d made damn sure she’d only charged him for private dances.
“Damn, girl, you get around.” Bull pressed in closer, and Delilah could swear the air was being sucked out of the immediate area. It was hard not to choke with his panting breath in her face. “The kid came in looking for you, but I got some VIPs coming in. They’ve been eyeing that sweet ass for a while.” Delilah felt a wave of panic threatening to paralyze her. There was no way she could do it. Her skin crawled in absolute horror. If she didn’t, there was no telling what Bull would do to her, and who would care? Why had she come back here? No amount of money was worth it. Tears burned her eyes as she searched her mind for something, anything she could say or do. If she said Edward wanted her back tonight, Bull would want his number, he’d want to negotiate a price. The humiliation she could get over if it would get her out of this mess; the thing was she didn’t have Edward’s number. She couldn’t find her way back to the sprawling country home if she tried. There was simply no way she could contact him.
She had no doubt he would help her if he could, if she hadn’t run home. She had no idea where the certainty came from. The whole marriage thing had been insanity, but she really couldn’t believe Edward would hurt her. Not intentionally.
“Bull! Edward Prichard’s here for Cinnamon!”
Delilah’s knees almost buckled at Red’s sudden appearance. Red was Bull’s partner in crime, literally. He called himself a Creole; however, Delilah had her doubts.
“Tell him she’s busy.” One thing about Bull was no one could call him bright.
“Edward-Freaking-Prichard, man.” Red stepped up to the hulking Cajun with no fear. He was probably one of the very few men who could do so. “Ain’t no amount of money worth the trouble he can bring down on us.”
Bull wavered, narrowing his eyes on her face. Delilah didn’t blink, didn’t move.
Any show of weakness, fear or caring and Bull would break her. He could smell mutiny, as many females who had once worked here found out. More than one dancer thought she’d found a sugar daddy, only to find the guy didn’t want her after Bull got done with her.
“Come on, man,” Red pressed. “Let him have her until he’s tired of her. He paid ten large for this weekend. Handed over the cash like it wasn’t shit.” Ten large? So he was paying for it after all. Suddenly her relief turned to something dark and ugly. Something inside her died. He thought she was nothing more than a whore.
“He takes you out of the club, it better take your ass two days to get back here with my money.”
With that Bull shoved her in Red’s direction, not waiting or caring if she fell from the force of the push. She didn’t feel anything as Red more or less dragged her out to the floor of the club. Curious stares on a chick without makeup and dressed in sweats didn’t faze her at all. She was numb. So what if she’d never stepped foot in the area that held customers without her full body armor, the heavy makeup and gaudy costume she’d come to hide behind. She didn’t even lift her head, concentrating on her feet until Red stopped in front of a pair of very posh-looking leather loafers.
“Money upfront this time.” Red didn’t even bother to lower his voice. God, now everyone would think she was for sale. She was going to have to get out of New Orleans altogether.
“How much?”
Lord, that arrogant voice still had the power to make her stomach flutter. Seemed like she wasn’t much of a whore—they weren’t supposed to feel anything for the men who paid for their time. Pain so deep it cut like a knife warred with intense, immediate attraction just from hearing the sound of his voice. She should hate Edward Prichard with every fiber of her being; and he was here to buy her.
“Oh shit, man, you and your uncle are sharing the same whore?” Delilah’s head did snap up in horror now. David was standing not far away with two of the guys he usually came in with. While David had the grace to look horrified, his friends sneered openly at her.
“Damn, David, that’s kinky as shit.”
It happened so fast, she wasn’t sure if what was unfolding in front of her eyes was real. David spun as soon as the second friend spoke, his fist smashing soundly against the man’s face before his body was even fully turned. There was a sickening crunch, blood gushing though she couldn’t see where it was coming from. Before she could process the punch fully, there was another connection of David’s closed fist to the same face. This direct hit lifted the smartass completely off his feet. Not even a full second after the first punch, Edward had spun, his arm shooting straight out. There was no fist; Edward’s hand wasn’t balled, just folded at the knuckles. It hit the guy who’d spoken first in the throat, dropping him to his knees. That was when Edward’s now balled fist connected just under the chin. There wasn’t even a whimper; the younger man just fell over, his eyes rolling up in the back of his head.
“You will clean up your fucking mess,” Edward growled low at his nephew with such vehemence Delilah shuddered. “And I don’t want to see you darken my door until I invite you to. Is that clear, David?” He didn’t wait for a reply, simply grasped Delilah by the arm and turn to leave.
“Wait! The money!” Red called after them.
Yes, there was that. The shock over what had just happened slowly faded into the dread briefly forgotten by the interesting scene of two very wealthy men fighting dirty in a strip club.
“Money?” Edward appeared baffled, but Delilah knew better. “For what?”
“For the girl.” Red approached them with his hand going behind his back. “I don’t care who you are, ain’t no tail from this establishment free.”
“Are you seriously suggesting I pay you to escort my fiancée out of this questionable establishment?”
Crazy it may be, but Delilah’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t going to pay for her. He really was there to take her away from this hell. It didn’t make him any less insane, but it was better than being paid for her services.
“Fiancée? Man, are you crazy? What the hell was the ten grand for earlier? This isn’t a game—you want to spend time with our ladies, even you have to pay.” Despite his bravado, Red looked confused and unsure of himself. Bull was nowhere to be seen, so he didn’t have backup. Bouncers were smart enough to know what the Prichard name meant. None of them were even looking in their direction.
“The money I gave this establishment was for the damage my nephew is currently causing right now.”
Sure enough, there were loud crashes as if on cue. Delilah could only see enough to know another of David’s friends had appeared and apparently had said something to which David took offense.
“You paid for damages before they happened? You expect me to believe that?” However, Red was backing up. Unlike Bull, he was able to weigh options before acting.
If he pissed Edward off, he could find the club closed permanently and he and Bull up on any charges the police chose to throw at them. There were a lot of things going on in a number of private rooms that could get him very real time.
“Call me psychic,” Edward sneered before turning. “Come on, Delilah.” Hesitation wasn’t something she was interested in. Shaking with relief, she allowed Edward to steer her out of the club. It wasn’t until she was seated in the passenger seat of his car, Edward behind the wheel and driving away from the place like a bat out of hell, that she finally felt safe—relatively, anyway. Bull and Red knew where she lived.
“You doubted me, didn’t you?”
He didn’t look in her direction as he drove. There was neither anger nor disappointment in his voice. Just a sad resignation. It wasn’t fair, damn it; she had nothing to feel guilty about. Try as she might, she still felt culpable in some way.
Swallowing the lump in her throat didn’t help bring forth an ans
wer.
“You left because you thought I was crazy. That or I had some kind of punishment planed for you, for David.”
“Can you blame me? I mean, how many filthy rich men do you know who just up and marry a stripper after knowing her for all of two days?” The car swerved into an empty parking lot so fast Delilah had to grab the side of the seat. Edward put the car in park, though he kept the motor running and turned to face her.
“You really want me to answer that question?” Gray eyes gleamed at her in the moonlight. He really was a stunning man.
“Yes.” No, not really. She wanted so much for this insanity to be real, but this wasn’t a fairy tale or a movie. Things like this just didn’t happen.
“None. I will be the first.” Of course he would be brutally honest.
“Does insanity run in your family? Because nothing you’re saying makes sense.
You don’t propose to some woman you barely know.”
A wolfish grin flashed perfect white teeth. “Now that happens far more often than you’d think. People do it all the time, marry without really knowing the other person. But I do know you, Delilah. Better than you know yourself, perhaps. As for genetic insanity, I wouldn’t know. It’s not something that was discussed.” God, he was serious. This really wasn’t some game to him. What was it like to live like this man? He really thought he could do whatever the hell he pleased without any major consequences. As soon as Bull found out what just happened, he would be out for blood, and Red might not be able to talk him down.
