Mayhem: A Twisted Hearts Love Story Book 2 Page 7

  Fuck! Well, he has me there. I do need the money. I grip the towel that is around my naked body with my free hand and rock back and forth from my heel to the ball of my feet trying to make a decision. Ugh. “Fine! I’ll be there shortly.” I don’t bother with the pleasantries of saying goodbye. I just end the call and toss my phone onto a pile of clothes on the floor, plopping myself on top of the bed and wishing this night was over.

  ****

  Me and some of the girls from the strip club show up at Pulse and wait for ‘management’ to come down and talk to us about what they’re expecting. The girls are enthusiastic about dancing here; I, on the other hand, am not. I sit off to the side and play a game on my phone. The game sounds off with “Mmm, tasty,” just as a strikingly handsome man with piercing topaz eyes enters the room. The girls all focus on me. My cheeks warm as I shut off my phone and shove it in my pocketbook while mumbling out an apology.

  “Tasty?” The man smirks at me as Dante comes up behind him, and our eyes lock. My heart beats faster as time feels like it has come to a standstill. Our eyes speak without words. I blink first and turn my head away, breaking the spell.

  The striking man introduces himself as Tony and goes on to explain what they’re intending to accomplish for the night. He doesn’t want us to take off our clothes, but he wants us to sell sex in our dance moves. We will be working with his regular dancers that the club keeps on payroll. Some of us will be on the catwalk suspended up in the air above the crowds while some will be on the stage. Tony is straight to business as he picks and chooses who he wants on the catwalk and who he wants on the stage. I’m chosen for the catwalk with another dancer, who calls herself Chocolate. She pronounces it Choke-O-Lot, and I roll my eyes at the memory of her correcting me when we first met. My stage name is Amber; I chose it because it’s my birthstone.

  A hostess named Tallie shows us where we can change our clothes. She doesn’t seem to be happy with her job of showing us around. I’m not sure what I’ve done to her but she is constantly snapping at me whenever I ask a question and she shoulder checked me when she walked by earlier. One of Pulse’s regular dancers comes over to me and introduces herself as Monique.

  Tall and svelte most women couldn’t pull off her razor sharp bob, but it works for her. She nods her head in Tallie’s direction. “Don’t mind her. She gets jealous whenever there is a woman that is more attractive than her.”

  I look over at Tallie and wonder why would she ever be intimidated by me. Her dark black hair is bone straight and she has eyes shaped like a cat. She has an air of confidence and sensuality. Tallie catches me looking at her and glares, causing me to turn away and look back to Monique. “She is a beautiful woman. Why would she ever feel threatened by me?”

  Monique laughs out loud, causing everyone to look in our direction. I shrink in embarrassment wondering if she is laughing at me or what I said. I wait for her to finish so I can ask her to let me in on the joke as well but then Dante enters. The magnetic energy he stirs is incredible. It is like he is the sun and the rest of us orbit around him. Most of the girls stand up straighter and toss their hair, some blatantly stare at him. He doesn’t seem to notice them at all.

  Dante passes by Tallie, she stops him by placing her hand on his chest and my stomach drops. Perhaps she is the reason why he hesitated to say he was free. I should’ve known. Men are all alike. I try to divert my eyes, but the masochist in me continues staring at her hand on his chest. He catches my eyes on him and gently pushes Tallie away. For a moment, I am thrilled that he pushed her away. Score one for the good girls and score zero for the bitches. She pouts at him and storms off. He comes closer to me, and I catch the scent of his spiced cologne. Monique gives me a quick wink and goes to talk to some of the other girls, leaving me standing alone with Dante.

  “Have you been here before?” His deep voice sounds like Vin Diesel’s.

  “No.” My answer comes out sharp since I’m still pissed over Tallie’s hands on him. He rubs his clean shaven jaw and I try not to imagine that same hand stroking parts of my body that haven’t been touched in years.

  He seems unfazed by my tone of voice and pushes forward. “Want a tour before you start?”

  A tour would mean I would be alone with him. Being alone with him is not a good idea; I repeat this mantra in my head as I clench my legs tighter trying to get rid of the burning throb. “No thanks.” I turn my back to him as my cheeks and ears warm even more.

  He steps in front of me. “Humor me.” He offers me his arm as the other girls gawk at him. I debate if I should throw caution to the wind and go with him, or stand my ground and ignore him. But then I see Tallie staring at us, and I decide to place my arm in his, letting him guide me away. The mischievous girl in me would love to turn around and stick my tongue out at Tallie. Nah nah nah I got him and you don’t.

  After a few twists and turns down different halls, he eventually stops and looks at me. “Sorry about bringing you here like this. But I felt you left me no other choice. I really do want to get to know you. What does a man have to do?”

  Don’t look up and into his eyes. Look at the slate grey walls or at the ceiling with the retro lights. Look anywhere but in his eyes because your willpower will crumble. “I already told you, my life is—”

  “Complicated,” he finishes my last word for me, shaking his head and closing his eyes briefly. “Listen, I don’t know how to explain it. Just give me a chance. Dinner, that’s all I ask. If it doesn’t go well, then I promise to leave you alone.”

  My heart races and my mind goes blank momentarily because I made the mistake and looked into his eyes - those warm, brown eyes. “Umm, I don’t know.”

  He cups my chin in his hand so gently; with just that whisper of a touch, my body is set on fire for him. “Come on. What do you have to lose?”

  Myself. I could lose myself and so much more. I see Tallie lurking behind, watching us closely, and it gives me the courage I need. “Yes. Dinner would be great.” I say the words loud enough for her to hear.

  He smiles slowly and gives me a wink. “Tomorrow?”

  Butterflies launch in my stomach. “Yes. Pick me up from the diner. I get off at midnight.”

  He brushes his lips gently against mine, sending tingles down to my toes. “Midnight it is.”

  Heels clicking as she makes her way to us, Tallie coughs. Dante doesn’t move right away; his eyes remain locked on mine as he holds the back of my head gently. Our noses are touching as we both breathe in each other’s scent. Being this close to him is making me dizzy. Without turning around, he says, “What is it, Tals?” His voice is full of disdain but his eyes are full of lust and want. My knees wobble slightly from the look I am willing to bet has dropped many panties in its path.

  “She has to get on the catwalk. Customers are arriving now.” Her tone is clipped as she stands behind him with her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at me.

  He closes his eyes briefly, as if in deep thought. Opening his eyes again, we’re still locked in each other’s gazes. “I’ll show her to the catwalk.”

  Her eyes widen and her mouth turns into a frown. “But—”

  He releases my head, turning to face her, and I instantly miss his touch. “No buts. I told you I’ll show her to the catwalk.” His voice leaves absolutely no room for argument.

  Her face contorts in anger before she turns and stomps away. We hear her stilettos click clacking down and around the corner. For a moment, I wonder if she is going to make the rest of my night hell on earth.

  “I don’t think she likes me,” I mutter under my breath. He stares at me a moment before throwing his head back and laughing.

  “Don’t pay Tallie any mind. If she gives you any trouble, you let me know.”

  I shrug at his comment. If Tallie ends up being a problem, he is the last person I would go to. I’ve had to deal with women like her before. It’s hard not to when you are a stripper. You have the alphas in the group occasionally and you learn to
grow a thick skin to handle them. “So take me to the catwalk?”

  “Sure. Come this way.” He places his hand on the small of my back and a shiver slides through me. He guides me to the catwalk where Chocolate is already in place. “I’ll drive you home after your performance. Don’t want you taking the subway so late.”

  “I’ll be fine. No need to worry about me.”

  “That’s not the point. It’ll be late. I’ll take you home.”

  I don’t know how I feel about him worrying about me. It’s been such a long time since someone actually gave a damn about my overall welfare that this is unusual for me. Chocolate must be getting impatient since she hates to be kept waiting, so I decide not to argue with him and agree.

  He guides me to where Chocolate, as predicted, is huffing and puffing by the catwalk. I can tell she wants to say a smart remark to me but when she looks at Dante, she changes her mind. I’m thankful for that since she can be an uber bitch when she wants. We do our routine and really get the party going as customers dance, some trying to imitate our moves. Our bodies, covered in glitter, sparkle as the strobe lights shine on us, making us seem even more alluring.

  When I dance, I have the confidence that I generally never feel about my body. Since giving birth to my daughter, I have a few stretch marks. Not many, but enough for me to be conscience of them. My ex-husband stopped making love to me, claiming that my stretch marks turned him off. Ever since then, I’m always hyperaware of them. But dancing, no one seems to notice my imperfections. I always get lost in my head when the music is pumping.

  We finish our routine and Chocolate and I step off the catwalk to some waiting male fans. We pass them, and someone grabs me, pulling me into him. In this profession, I’m used to men attempting to grab me every now and then, but we always have bouncers nearby to stop it almost right away. I feel left alone and scared with this goon, and the only thing I can think of is to slap his face, hoping it will get him to release me. Unfortunately I can’t get my hand high enough to build the momentum for a good whack upside his head and Chocolate is too far ahead of me to see what’s going on.

  “Oh, come on, baby. Just a taste.” I try to push away from him, but before I can free myself, large hands pull me away from the asshole who has a hold on me.

  Dante places me behind him as he snatches the customer by the throat and shoves him into the wall. “Get the fuck off my woman!”

  When I hear this, I feel two things. First, it makes me feel protected, and second, it pisses me off.

  “Hey, man, s-sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Dante shoves him to the ground. “Get the fuck out of my club!”

  The man who was with Dante at the diner yanks the man off the floor and manhandles him down the steps. Dante paces a few steps back and forth, all the while clenching and unclenching his fist and suddenly he spins and punches the wall, startling me. This flash of anger reminds me of my ex-husband and my self-preservation kicks in. I turn and run down the hall to find the dressing rooms, with Dante hot on my heels. My heart is thumping in my chest and I begin to hyperventilate. I fight to catch my breath as memories of my abusive husband rush into my head. I can still feel the slaps and punches he would rain down over me. I’m running down the hall pushing various patrons out of my way. I must get away, must get away now.

  “Cyma, wait!”

  “Fuck off!”

  “Cyma, stop!” I stop running partly because of his tone but mostly because I realize I have no idea where I’m going. I swallow deeply before turning and placing my bare skinned back firmly against the cool wall. Blinking rapidly, I finally focus my eyes and see him with his hands up, a troubled look on his face. “I would never hurt you.” His voice is low and becomes my anchor as I try to ground myself.

  “It’s just that… that….” I can’t gather my thoughts as my heart thunders in my chest.

  “It’s what?”

  “Nothing.” My mind drifts back and forth between the here and now and my past. My past wins and I utter the words. “I don’t think dinner is a good idea.”

  “What? Why?”

  Pushing myself away from the wall, I stiffen my back and resolve. “Nothing, Dante. I just can’t, that’s all.”

  Chocolate appears down the hall. “There you are. I thought you were behind me.” She walks closer and stops a few feet away from me. Her brows crease together as her eyes meet my own and then she turns to Dante before looking at me again. “Are you all right?” she whispers. I nod, and she eyes Dante one more time before holding her hand out to me. “Come on, let’s go.” I place my hand in hers and we walk away from the memories of my past.

  Chapter 10

  Meet Me Halfway ~ The Black Eyed Peas

  Tick

  Sitting in Tony’s office with Manny and Tony at Pulse a few days after Cyma ran away from me, I still can’t figure out what went wrong. A man had put his hands on her and I’d stepped in and handled shit. That’s what I do and will always do. My blood boils at the thought of someone touching her. She deserves to be treated like she’s the most important thing in the world. I’m going to be the man to give her what she wants and needs. I don’t want her worrying about shit anymore.

  A shiver goes up my spine. How can I do that to Kayla? I feel gutted by this. I can’t betray Kayla, but I also know I can’t leave Cyma alone.

  “Yo, dickhead! You listening?” Manny blows out a puff of smoke.

  I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated breath. “What?”

  Tony sits back with a wide grin spread across his face as if he is a spectator at a show.

  Manny takes a deep breath before releasing an exaggerated sigh. “Was asking you if you wanted to take a ride to the casino this weekend.”

  “Nah, I’m busy.” I’m only half-paying him attention because my thoughts are right back to Cyma and how she looked frightened, and that was crazy. I would never harm her in any way.

  “Doing what?” Manny crosses his arms in front of him with his cigarette dangling from his mouth.

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “Oh, I get it.” Manny chuckles. “Your lady?”

  “Fuck off.” I love this kid like a brother, but damn he can be so fucking annoying. Feeling antsy, I stand to leave.

  “Yo, where you going?” Manny asks, all joking aside, sitting up in his chair.

  “I think we can guess,” Tony adds.

  “Don’t disturb me unless the place is on fire,” I say as I leave the office. Gotta go find Cyma and I don’t have time to waste with these two.

  Speeding down the streets of Manhattan, I’m hoping to make it to her club in time to catch her show. I pay for my entry at her club and walk in. I’m taken aback at how slummy the place looks. She works in a place like this? Cyma doesn’t look like she would fit in with the type of clientele this club has.

  A stench of mildew, greasy food and cheap booze coats the air. Most of the patrons are drunk and somewhat rowdy. Instead of controlling the rowdy patrons, the bouncers are talking to some of the dancers. I stand in the back taking in all of the surroundings in disbelief.

  I take a seat in the back and watch a few performances, hoping that I haven’t missed Cyma’s. After what seems like hours, Cyma walks the floor, chatting with various customers. The regulars know her and whistle at her or offer to buy her a drink. She refuses all advances in such a way that the men never realize they are being let down. Someone grabs her wrist. A frightened looks crosses her face and I am at her side before she realizes what is going on.

  “Dante?” Confusion and relief crosses her face.

  “Amber. You alright?” One of the bouncers asks her. He steps closer to the patron.

  The customer releases her wrist and shrinks back into his seat in the booth.

  The bouncer remains staring at the customer before turning to me. “Alright buddy. Show is over. Take a seat.”

  Buddy? Did this fucker just call me buddy? I open my mouth but Cyma places her pal
m on my chest and pushes me back.

  “Ugh. He’s leaving,” Cyma says quickly.

  Leaving? Is she for fucking real? “Nah. I’m buying a dance.”

  “Amber doesn’t do private dances.” The bouncer eyes me up and down, most likely measuring me up for a fight.

  I want to pound this fucker in the face but given Cyma’s reaction to me at Pulse, I calm the fuck down.

  “Dante, just leave. I told you that this won’t work,” she hisses at me.

  “Just want to talk. You don’t have to dance. I want to apologize for my reaction that night. I fucked up. I’m human. But please, you have to give me a chance.” I’ve never been big on words. My eyes say the things I don’t know how to voice.

  She doesn’t say anything for a long time before nodding her head. “Sonny. This customer would like to purchase a dance.”

  Sonny, the bouncer looks at her, shocked, but then tells me how much it will be. I drop some cash in his hand and follow Cyma to a back room. I step inside and she closes the door behind us, the bouncer taking position outside the door.

  “Dante, you are developing some stalker tendencies.” There isn’t any snark in her voice but she doesn’t sound friendly either.

  “Thought this was the only way I could see you. I don’t mean you any harm. I just needed to be near you.” Fuck, that did sound like some stalker shit. “I’m not good at the ‘courting a girl’ thing. But I want to try, for you.” I wait for her to say something…anything. Her shoulders slump down but she remains silent. “I’m starting to run out of tricks up my sleeve.” I say this to lighten the mood and it does the trick.

  She leans against the door and lets out a breath. “What do you want, Dante?”

  She’s talking…talking is good. I can work with talking. Holding up my token I had to purchase for the lap dance, I flip it in the air. “Guess I want to talk for now.”