Page 7
“Believe me, I’ve always been careful around him. He won’t be back, though, so I don’t think you or I have to worry about it.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt like I was going to fall over. I would never see him again. I would never hear that smoky, lilting voice again. I would never smell that spicy, mysterious scent again. It felt different when I had been the one to walk away, but now that I’d sent him away, told him in no uncertain terms that I was never coming home, it felt so final. It burned worse than the bullet that had almost killed me.
“Well, if you’re ever interested in getting out and about, I know some very cute single guys.”
That made me laugh. Sex and anything having to do with the opposite sex had been the last thing on my mind until the second Nassir had popped back up in my life. The last six months had been the longest I had ever gone without a companion, without boys telling me I was beautiful and giving me whatever I wanted. Being by myself had been enlightening, but it had also made the impact Nassir had on me all the more tangible and strong. My skin was still too tight and my heart was still beating too fast, proving it wasn’t just any pretty boy with a wicked smile who could turn my life inside out.
“Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day. Right now I need to finish my shift and pretend like I’m not totally freaking out on the inside.”
“Okay. And just so you know, I am very familiar with the things that can hide in the dark. If you ever want to talk about where that beautiful man came from and why he made you turn as white as a sheet, it’s a story I would be happy to hear.”
I waved at her as she walked out the front door. I never had many female friends, at least not any that didn’t take their clothes off and grind on laps the same way I did, and I really liked the pretty policewoman. The last thing I wanted to do was pull the curtain back and introduce her to Honor. I didn’t want that crafty bitch anywhere near Denver.
I shook it all off—Nassir’s surprise visit, the cop’s probing questions, the reminder that I used to have a very different life—and focused on finishing up my shift. It was mindless. Take orders, get the food out, refill drinks, smile and nod a bunch. Repeat for nine hours and then drag my butt back to my tiny little studio so I could scrub out the smell of bacon and eggs from my hair and veg out until it started all over again the next day. Only today, after my shower, I couldn’t stop the past from pulling at me. I couldn’t get Nassir out of my mind. Couldn’t get all the memories that were attached to him from buzzing around in my brain.
I started dancing at Spanky’s when I was barely eighteen. A runaway with a nightmarish home life and a stepdad with wandering hands. Back then, I’d been scared out of my mind and achingly desperate to have a life and a place of my own. At that point, a callous and cold-blooded crime boss who went by the name of Novak held the club—and the city— in a choke hold. Even though there was a no-touching rule in effect when the girls were onstage, it was hardly ever enforced. I was doing a routine to some stupid pop song, trying hard to stay upright on shoes that were too tall and too ridiculous for words, when a burly, drunk patron lunged at me. I was trapped under his sweaty flab while he groped at my naked boobs and pawed at my barely-there G-string. It was terrifying and all too familiar. Just when I thought the worst was going to happen right out in the open, in front of everyone, the bulk had disappeared, and what looked like a fallen angel loomed over me, offering me a hand.
Even back then he dressed like a million bucks. His hair was nothing like the midnight locks he wore now; then it was military short and he was much leaner than the tightly muscled warrior’s body he had now. His eyes glowed like hellfire, and I almost threw myself back to the ground at his feet. He was that potent. He smiled at me with that sinful mouth and asked me if I was okay. I told him I could have handled the situation myself because I really wanted to believe I could have, but it was clear in those magnetic and mysterious eyes, the first time we stared at each other, that he wanted to take care of things for me. It scared me. That kind of possessiveness from a man I didn’t know . . . a man that made my young heart quiver and my foolish body warm and melty. I didn’t have anything of my own yet and all I wanted to do was hand what little I did have over to him. That kind of acquiescence terrified me. The desire to simply let him take control of a life I hadn’t yet gotten the chance to live made me throw up every single barrier I could think of, and had started the dance between us that we had been doing for years. He almost killed a man in front of me with his bare hands, and yet it was the threat he posed to my newly found freedom that had me keeping him at arm’s length when I really wanted to pull him as close as I could.
After that unforgettable introduction, the only time I saw Nassir was after backroom deals with Novak at the strip club, or when I made my way to the underground club he owned. Nassir quickly became the guy in the Point that could get his hands on anything and everything that was bad for you. If he didn’t have it on hand, he knew the people that did. Novak was now no more than dust and bad memories, but Nassir’s power had only grown.
Last year his club—the front for all his illegal activities—had burned down when the city found itself caught in the middle of a war for control after Novak was killed. As a result, Nassir had moved into Spanky’s, and every single day I went to work felt like I was dancing for an audience of one. His eyes watched my every move, and even though I worked mostly naked, I felt even more exposed than I was. He kept me safe while letting me grow into the undeniably sexy and powerful woman I was meant to become, and all the while I tiptoed around him and the fact that I knew if I ever let him have me, I would belong to him heart and soul forever. We played a tense game of advance and retreat, but I knew enough to stay out of the kill zone, and for whatever reason Nassir let me play with the fire but never let me get close enough to burn. I never understood his motivations, but since his actions let me live a full and mostly happy life in a place that destroyed most people’s souls, I never questioned why he did what he did.
When the war barged through the front door of the Point and I ended up bleeding out on the floor of a strip club, I realized his motivations came from a place deeper than the undeniable attraction we had for each other. His heart was in his eyes as he tried to stop the steady stream of blood leaking out of my shoulder and I would never forget that it looked just like me.