Crazy Eights (Stacked Deck #8) - Emilia Finn Page 0,28
didn’t mean for toddlers.”
“I get to choreograph our routines,” I counter fruitlessly. “That counts.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She laughs. “Because we come back to the dancing for men thing. Come on.” She heads to the door that opens to the balcony overlooking the club. “McGrady has us on together again tonight, so there’ll be hell to pay if we’re both late.”
She opens the door and pastes on her “showgirl” smile for the men milling around only feet away. They act like it’s coincidence they’re nearby. Like, “oh wow, I had no clue you ladies were in there! Also, since you’re here, do you wanna give me five minutes of your time, free of charge?”
Pulling me through the door and closing it up behind us, Lita slides my arm around hers so we link, and with nothing more than a flirty smile for the loitering men, she leads us to the top of the stairs and down.
A gritty, dark song plays through the club so loud that the bass thumps inside my chest. The artist sings of love and chains, of heartbreak and filthy sex, so while she does that, my brain compartmentalizes. In one corner, I think about Will, about Nate Hardy, our invisible witness, and the bullshit charges that will send my brother away for decades if the police ever find him. Another part of my brain considers Evan’s offer; be with him, and he could potentially make this go away.
I mean, what’s sex, really, when it’s not my virginity? I already gave that away. I gave it to who I wanted to give it to, so Evan can have me now, and he can believe he was the first and only. I won’t ever have to tell him different, and with that power, I’ll have access to information that could potentially free my brother from the prison we call home.
Another slice of my brain choreographs a routine to the music playing through the speakers. In my mind, I see the steps, the movements. The sensuality. The romance laced with filthy, filthy sex.
And because I couldn’t stop it fast enough, the thought of sex leads to Jamie Kincaid.
Fuck him for letting me steal his watch. It was a battle I won. A small victory. A false sense of accomplishment. Because he stole my virginity, my heart, my soul, and just a week ago, instead of giving them back, he shattered them in the most horrifying way.
That asshole broke my heart, four years after the first time I thought it was broken.
“Tori?” Lita tugs my arm and draws my eyes around as we approach the bottom of the stairs and move onto the main floor. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Huh?” I look around. At the customers that fill every seat. Every table. Every inch of space in this shadowed room. “What?”
“I said that guy is here again.”
My heart speeds and sends ridiculous thoughts of Jamie spinning through my mind. Of course Jamie’s not here. It’s not possible. So I glance around until I find exactly who she means.
The cowboy gentleman watches us with smiling eyes and a wicked grin.
I groan. “Oh man.”
“You don’t like him?” Lita turns to me. “Seriously? Because he’s a sweetheart.”
“I do like him. That’s the damn problem. If he continues his chivalry act and keeps touching us, Evan’s going to take him out. And I really don’t want to be the reason that nice guy loses his face.”
I glance up to the guy and smile – a friendly smile, not a flirty smile – but that only spurs him on.
He flips to his feet, steps in our direction, and extends a hand as though to help us.
I shake my head. No longer smiling. No longer kind. I lock my hands in close to my body so he can’t take one, then I meet his eyes.
“Miss Tori?” He steps closer and frowns. “Um… you okay?”
“You can’t touch, sir.”
“I wasn’t… I didn’t…” I’ve hurt his damn feelings! “I meant no disrespect, ladies. I was only trying to help you up.”
“We appreciate it,” I speak for Lita and I both. “But you can’t keep doing that. There are signs everywhere that say no touching the dancers. I don’t want you to get in trouble, so…”
“I don’t care if I get in trouble,” he scowls. “What are they gonna do, kick me out and not take my money anymore?”
No, they’re going to shoot you in your face. Or snap your neck. Or do horrible things to your mother. “We