Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“Does ‘no one’ have a name?”
“Leave it alone, please.” She folds her arms over her chest. A flash of pain crosses her expression. More than her wrist is injured.
“How you planning to work like that tonight?” I ask in what I hope is a milder tone. Swan keeps saying I have to work on not being so “intimidating” or whatever.
“I’m fine,” she insists.
“Yeah? You gonna climb the pole with your arm hurting the way it is?”
“I’ll ice it. Please don’t send me home,” she pleads. “I need the money.”
“Do you need the money to leave this loser?” I gesture to her face. “Or is he a bum who’s living off your hard work when he’s not knocking you around?”
Her gaze slides to the floor. “It’s none of your business.”
“Everything that goes on in here”—I stab my finger toward the floor—“is my business. That’s the deal if you want to dance for this club. Don’t ever forget that.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to tell me who did this so I can pay him a visit.”
Her eyes widen. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Ask anyone in this club if I make house calls.” Unfortunately, it happens more often than I care to think about.
She clamps her lips into a firm, stubborn line.
“Fucking hell.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. I can’t let her on stage if I know she’s injured and could hurt herself worse. But I don’t want to send her home so she loses money either. “Go help Willow behind the bar tonight.” I gesture to her arm. “How bad is it? Did you see a doctor?”
Seen plenty of dancers keep right on working with injuries that would make most men cry. I doubt she sought any medical help.
“No, it’s just strained. I told you, I’m fine,” she insists.
I stare at her.
“But I’ll help Willow tonight. No problem,” she adds in a more respectful tone.
“Thank you.” I lift my chin toward the door, indicating she can go. I’ll find out who put his hands on her some other way.
Poor Kyla can’t get away from me fast enough. She slips out of the office, leaving the door open a crack.
“Sorry, darlin’,” someone says in the hallway.
Kyla responds but too low for me to hear the words. A second later, my door flies open and Z fills up the space.
“Honey, I’m home!” He throws his arms up in a wide “V” shape, smacking his wrist against the metal doorframe. “Fuck.” He shakes it off and swaggers into the office. “Am I getting older or are they getting younger?” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “She looks like she should be climbing on a school bus, not a pole.”
“She’s legal,” I grumble. Does he think I don’t know how to check I.D. or something?
“Aw, don’t get frowny with me, Dex.” He grabs me in a big bear hug, thumping me on the back. “Missed your serious face, brother.”
I squeeze him hard and release him. “Missed you too. Did Lilly come up with you?”
“Not this time. She’s helping Serena decorate the nursery. I can’t tell if Grinder appreciates all the help or wants to slit my throat.”
“I’m sure he appreciates it.” I hold out my hand, indicating he should take one of the chairs while I slide into the seat behind the desk. “It’s what he said he always wanted. Ol’ ladies who got along.”
“Certainly makes our lives easier.” He sits up and taps my desk. “So what’s got you all glum and Dex-y over there?” He waves his hand in front of my face and I slap it away.
“I’m not glum.” I lift my chin toward the door. “Someone roughed that girl up. Swan sent her to me so I could be the bad guy and tell her she can’t go on stage tonight.”
Z punches his fist against his palm. “Blanket party? Let’s go.”
“You itching to give someone a beatdown? Thought you were all mellow house-daddy now?” I sit back and grin.
“Fuck you,” Z laughs. “I’m always game to give someone what’s coming.” He sits forward, leaning his elbow against my desk. “I think it’s what Lilly likes about me the most.”
“Yeah, all your most annoying traits seem to make Lilly swoon.” I roll my eyes, but he grins even wider.
“So, where we headed?”
“Nowhere. She won’t tell me anything.”
“Talk to the other girls.” He waves his hand behind his head toward the hallway.
“Gee, I hadn’t thought of that, President Obvious.” I roll my eyes. “I’m not sure any of them know much about her.”
“Where’d you send her?”
“To help Willow behind the bar. I can’t have her on stage like that. She’ll fall off the pole and hurt herself even worse.”
“She give you shit about making less in tips?”
“No, she was just glad I didn’t send her home, I think.”
He gestures toward the industrial-size safe in the corner behind him. “Make up the difference outta there.”