Chapter Eight
CHAPTER EIGHT
After a long day at the sanctuary, Jac showered, put on her freshly washed Pink Pit of Pleasure T-shirt, her jeans, and her favorite black-and-red cowboy boots, and then headed to the bank to make a deposit at the ATM. Afterwards, she bought some snacks to tuck into her purse for energy and then prayed Dash would let her work tonight.
As she drove, Jac played through possible outcomes of her impending conversation with Dash—such as him laughing in her face or demanding his cat in return—and came up with polite, yet firm replies that might appeal to his sense of decency.
After all, the man appeared to care very deeply about his animal, Heebie, so it stood to reason that he wouldn’t be a complete crap-tart once she explained how many animal lives depended on her at the sanctuary.
She pulled up to the club and parked, repeating her mantra: I can do this. I can do this.
“Okay. Here goes.” She marched inside, heading straight for the theater. She hadn’t gone backstage yet, but one of the entrances was just off the main hallway.
Jac entered what looked like a mix between a common hangout area and a costume closet, noting the scent of caramelized sugar and something fishy.
“Dash? Mink? Is anyone here?”
No one replied, but the first show wouldn’t start for two more hours.
Maybe it was best to find Dash’s dressing room and wait for him. At least she could grovel in private there.
Jac turned the corner down a short hallway with several doors. The last one had Dash’s name on it. She went inside and flipped on the lights. The room was small with a red couch against one wall and a vanity on the other. Behind the door hung his white robe and his little black thong.
“Oh boy.” She leaned in, checking to see if there was any padding in the thong. A package that big couldn’t be real.
To her shock, the tiny banana hammock was made of thin fabric. Zero enhancements.
I wonder if he has a prosthetic hidden around here. She walked over to the vanity and slid open a drawer. Inside was a big bottle of lotion called Glitter Man, “for the man who’s unafraid to sparkle.”
That explains his glowing tan . She picked up the bottle, giving it a whiff. It smelled like caramelized sugar. And that explains part of what I keep smelling around here. The fishy smell was still a mystery though. That and the bulge.
She put back the bottle and moved to the next drawer. Inside was an oval chunk of blue leather about the size of her hand.
A codpiece. I knew it! She leaned in to inspect it closer, noticing the thing had a strange texture, like alligator skin or something. “What a weirdo.” She closed the drawer.
“May I help you?” said a deep, unhappy voice.
Jac jumped and turned to find Dash’s towering, six-three frame in the doorway. He wore snug black jeans that caressed his powerful legs and a black T-shirt that hugged his strong pecs. His tanned arms were works of art, equipped with two brawny biceps and ropes of muscled forearms. The man just oozed strength and virility, right down to the tousled caramel-brown hair and groomed stubble.
Oh shit. “That wasn’t—I mean—I didn’t come here to snoop. I was just…”
“Snooping through my things?” he snarled with those perfectly plump lips.
This was not going as she’d planned, meaning she hadn’t prepared any thoughtful dialog to explain why she’d just invaded his privacy and how she should get her job back anyway.
“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me,” she said.
He cocked a light brown brow. “What secret?”
“You know…your secret.” She winked at him.
He actually looked concerned—furrowed brows, lots of blinking.
Hold on. Could this codpiece be the leverage she needed? Maybe Dash was terrified of his fans discovering the truth about his junk.
“So you figured it out. But how?” Dash asked.
“I just looked and knew.” I mean, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what that blue thing was.
“Have you seen one before?” he asked.
“Errr… hasn’t everyone?”
“Maybe in the movies,” he replied. “But in real life?”
She shrugged. It wasn’t like codpieces were mystical creatures. “We’re not talking unicorns here.”
“Not even in the same realm.”
She chuckled nervously, thinking that maybe this was the time to state her case. “Hey, so, I didn’t come here to go through your things or cause you any embarrassment, but I really need—”
“I told Heebie to be careful. Modern humans are more perceptive and open to the impossible than ever before.”
Humans? Perceptive? “Sorry, but what does Heebie have to do with your codpiece?” she asked.
“Codpiece?”
“Yeah, that blue thing in your drawer.” She pointed to it. “What did you think I was talking about?”
He stared for a moment. “Uh, my codpiece, of course.”
“No, you thought I was talking about something else, which means you have another secret.” What was it?
“I do not know what you’re talking about.” He stepped inside, clearing the doorway. “It’s time for you to go now. You aren’t supposed to be back here or anywhere on the premises—unless you come as a guest and buy a ticket.”
She couldn’t leave. Not yet. “I came here because I really need my job back, and if you could just listen for a sec—”
“Hell no.” He laughed. “Now leave, or I’ll throw you out myself.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
He flashed a wicked smile that exposed his front teeth. They were the whitest teeth she’d ever seen.
So vain. I bet he bleaches them daily.
“I would dare.” He took a step closer, towering over her five-five frame.
Suddenly Jac realized he was dead serious. “Dash, please. I came to apologize for yesterday and assure you I won’t be a problem.”
“I’ll count to three. One, two…”
Oh God. He was going to pick her up. For some strange reason, the idea terrified her. In fact, now that she was paying attention, everything about him terrified her. The man had a vibe. A dangerous one. How had she not noticed?
“Okay. You win.” She raised her hands in surrender and then stepped around him, heading for the door.
Her heart went into overdrive, and her body flushed with adrenaline. Her gut knew something her brain didn’t.
She was halfway down the hall when she could hear Dash laughing. Laughing!
Shaking, she made her way out of the club and got into her truck. She cranked the engine, wanting to get as far away from there as possible.
Something is very wrong with that man.
Still reeling from her interaction with Dash, Jac pulled up behind her cottage and shut off the engine. She couldn’t comprehend why her flight response had taken over like that. Dash was unfriendly and rude, yes, but that wasn’t enough to send her running off into the night like a damsel in a horror film. Yet, that had been exactly how she’d felt.
It was almost like…like…a subconscious part of her saw him as a deadly predator. A deer didn’t need anyone to tell it that a wolf wasn’t its friend even if the deer had never seen one before. Just like a deer drinking from a pond knew a beaver wasn’t a threat. The hierarchy of the animal kingdom was ingrained into the DNA of all living creatures, humans included.
So maybe Dash is a serial killer .
He didn’t seem like the slasher type, but wasn’t that the case for all serial killers? They were experts at camouflage.
She got out of her truck, noting the quarter moon. It was a gorgeous night, the sky filled with stars—or what she could see of them given the city lights off in the distance.
She started walking toward her front door, suddenly feeling like something or someone was watching. Once again, the animals in the sanctuary began sounding off.
The hairs on her neck stood up. Whatever was spooking them had returned.
She beelined toward her front door as a strong gust of wind swirled around her. Dirt kicked up in her eyes, and she squinted. A dust devil? This time of year? She went for her tranq gun on the coffee table and turned to go back out and check on the animals.
There, standing on the porch was Dash, holding Heebie.
“Fuck!” She jumped back, dropping her gun.
Dash smiled with a sinister gleam. “Hello again.”
“You followed me home?” she spat, about to go for her gun. It had a medium-sized dose meant for a coyote, but it could still take down a man of Dash’s size for a few minutes.
“Heebie seems like he enjoyed himself. Thank you.” Dash turned to leave.
Oh, no. He is not taking that cat. I don’t care if he is a serial killer.
“Hey. Get back here!” she yelled.
Dash kept on walking, but to where? She didn’t see a car. Where had he parked?
“Give me that cat, Dash! I’m serious.” She went for her tranq gun. “I’ll put a dart in your ass so fast, you won’t be dancing for a week.”
“Go ahead and try.” He continued walking down the dirt driveway.
He didn’t think she’d really do it. Probably because she’d bolted like a big fat coward from the club earlier. But what he didn’t know was that when it came to her animals, all bets were off. She would do just about anything to protect them.
Jac fired the tranq gun, hitting Dash right in his back.
Oops. She’d been aiming for his hard round ass.
Dash suddenly stopped and then face-planted in the dirt.
“ Meeeyower! Meeeyower! ” Heebie cried out in pain.
Oh no! Jac ran to them and rolled Dash over, finding Heebie underneath with a tiny crooked leg.
“ Meeeyower! ” Heebie howled.
“Oh, shit. Oh, shit. It’s broken. I’m so sorry, little guy.” She picked him up. “I’ll call the vet. We’ll have you all fixed up.”
She looked down at Dash snoozing away in the dirt on his back. The drug would wear off in thirty minutes or so, and then he’d wake up with a killer headache.
She was about to walk away, but then remembered what had happened at the club: those alarm bells. And now the dangerous man had followed her home.
What if he wakes up and tries to kill me?
Thirty minutes later…
“Don’t worry, Heebie, the vet’ll be here soon,” Jac said in the exam room at the sanctuary. Sadly, the late night visit was going to cost her. “I’m so, so sorry, but I couldn’t let him take you.”
Jac had given Heebie something for the pain, and now the animal just lay there in a small crate like a limp noodle.
“Hey! What the hell! Let me out of here!” Dash’s voice called out from the next room over where they kept the larger animals when they came in for treatments.
Jac got up and stood in the doorway, staring at the very angry male stripper in the lion cage.
“What was that, Dash? You want a cellmate? Because I’ll gladly fetch my twenty-foot python. Now be quiet and let me think.”
She couldn’t keep him in a cage forever, so now what was she going to do?