Chapter 12
12
Heaven – One Week Later
“Heaven, I know you hate floor work, but we’re short-staffed; Honey called in sick again; I need you to cover,” Timmy says with a little bit of hesitation from the other side of the bar, and I look up to scowl at the man. I wince at how rowdy the crowd is today. Starlight is on stage, currently removing her bra, and the men are going insane; several are slapping the other floor staffs’ asses.
Crap….
“Please, Heaven, I’ll double your take home for tonight,” he promises and holds up cash in his hand with pouty lips that just don’t look right on the tatted bald guy’s face. My eyes lock on the stack of bills in his hand, and I groan, knowing I can’t turn it down, making him grin.
“Okay, but only this once, Timmy, and I swear to God, if a man gropes me…” I warn, pointing at him, and he nods.
“Dad will kick them out instantly. He knows you’re our best worker and will do anything for you, though I know he’s not happy you are leaving once one of those fancy lawyer offices hires you. But I know he’ll be happy if you agree to open your own law firm and take us on as clients.”
I laugh as I grab a tray and fill it with the drinks I’ve just made for the private table at the far back of the poorly lit room. I round the bar, giving Tate a pat on the back, trying to calm his angry look.
Both Timmy and his dad Jimmy know I don’t work the floor, not after my first week when a customer attacked me near the ladies bathroom—something Travis will never find out–and Tate has been my guard ever since.
He was the one to stop it from escalating, and my God, if Travis knew I worked here, he’d have a coronary.
Timmy hands the cash to Tate, and I see him place it in my bag under the bar. Then, he grabs the tip jar, shoving half the tips inside. I give him a grateful smile before heading into the rowdy crowd.
It isn’t long before they all notice me, either, making my nerves hit, but I try to squash them down and move into the crowd, dodging the excited men while my mind, yet again, goes to my estranged husband.
I frown and pause a moment.
Can you call it estranged if he’s technically moved back home?
I shake my head and just manage to dodge a drunk man stepping back into me, and quickly go around him toward the far back table closest to the private pole where Cherry is due to give a private dance.
For the past week, Travis has been in my bed, cuddling me every night, and I wake with his arms still around me after a perfect night’s sleep, my libido wanting to take over, but I tell her to shut up.
He’s cleaning the house, doing the laundry, cooking meals. He has taken over the school run, ensuring I understand he’s trying, something he has expressed in therapy he wishes he’d done the day after he cheated, instead of giving me space, giving me time to close my heart to him.
My body and heart feel content with him around, but my head is still stuck in the past. I am doing what I promised. I’m trying to let him in, let him prove to me he’s not the idiot kid he was ten years ago, but then my mom called before my shift, and now, I itch to lock him back out again.
Apparently, her boyfriend left her for a younger model, and she went on her usual rant about how much men suck, how I need to ensure my son doesn’t turn out like one of them, and that I need to push my divorce like I haven’t for the past ten years when she knows full well, I’ve tried to petition it several times.
She’s moving again and expects to move in with me, like I’d agree. She tried calling me ungrateful, saying that I owed her for “bringing me up” when she could have terminated her pregnancy.
Yeah, mother of the year, or what?
It took me telling her that Travis and I were doing couples therapy to shut her up for a few minutes before she flew off the handle with me.
“What do you mean you’re trying to fix that farce of a marriage? He fucked another girl, and found pleasure with her! I told you your wedding was a mistake, but did you listen? No, you didn’t. Instead, you became a selfish little bitch, not unable to keep him happy, to keep him satisfied, and now, here you are again, not listening to me, your own mother, choosing him over me…. How dare you!”
It’s the same old, same old with her, but as soon as I explained he’d been staying the night, she hung up on me, which didn’t really shock me.
I shake my head and dodge another customer.
I know Mom isn’t mad I’m giving Travis a chance; it’s more that my husband wants to do therapy, something no man of hers has ever insisted on.
They always preferred the younger model, or they figured out she just wanted what was in their bank account.
She’s jealous, and it is pathetic, especially when I don’t know if I can ever forget what Travis did. I know I can forgive because of my love for him; it hasn’t died in the years we’ve been separated, so I know it won’t ever go, but forgetting is a different thing altogether.
When I look at him, all I see is….
I quickly twist the tray as a guy steps into me, bringing me out of my head, and I scowl as he glares my way like it was my fault, but I soon want to punch the ass when his eyes look down my body.
Not wanting to lose my job or, well, be demoted, I sidestep the man who, if he has any sense, will not follow me. I finally make it to the private table.
“Good evening,” I say as I place the tray down on the table, trying not to sigh in relief in front of the men, seeing all the drinks are still full and that none spilled with the number of men that nearly knocked into me. I look up, but I freeze when I lock eyes with Steal’s dark gray ones, and the anger shining back at me is definitely a new thing.
Ah crap, I’m in so much trouble….
“Holy fuck, are you our private dancer? Because girl, you are mighty fucking fine….” a guy with the patch saying Tool asks excitedly as his eyes go to my breasts, revealing the reason for his road name; the guy’s a tool.
I clear my throat at the growl Steal gives out. “Uh no, I don’t dance,” I say but keep my eyes locked on Steal’s and continue, “normally I work behind the bar, but we’re short-staffed on the floor…. Does, uh, Cassie know you’re here, Steal?”
“Wait, how in the fuck do you know the Prez of the Huntsmen MC?” another guy asks, but I don’t look away from my husband’s best friend, who I know is going to out my secret.
“She’s family,” Steal states coldly, and even though my heart warms, I wince, but he ignores it and continues, “Cass does know I’m here and she also knows I’m not looking at the women. The Rebels, Devils, and Untamed Hell Fire’s men are here with me.” He leans forward and demands, “Please fucking tell me the brothers who come here are not talking about you, the woman with an anchor tattoo, when they get back to the club excited, begging me to hire you at our strip club?”
Oh, damn….
When I don’t answer him, he leans over the table, and I see his eyes go to my hip to the anchor that Travis tatted the day we got married, and he groans, sitting back in his seat before getting his phone out of his cut, and my eyes widen.
“Colt, don’t!” I command, the men with him sucking in a breath at my use of his legal name, but he shakes his head and puts his phone to his ear, keeping his eyes on me, and I glare at him. “I swear to God, Colt, I keyed your bike once, I’ll do it again….”
“Fucking hell,” a man blurts in shock but again I ignore him.
I only did it because Cass called before she left four years ago and explained what the idiot did. He’s lucky that is all I did and that she gave him another chance.
“Brother,” Steal says, ignoring me, “your dad's with you and Micha, right?”
Oh, for the love of God….
“Colt, no,” I hiss, knowing Travis is going to storm this place. His eyes soften, most likely seeing the fear filling me, but he continues, “Have him stay with him and come to Jimmy’s Girls….”
Steal pulls the phone away from his ear, making me frown in confusion before he puts the phone back to his ear and snaps, “You don’t have to worry about your wife being pissed with you being in a strip club Travis; she’s fucking working here!”
My mouth drops in surprise that he just blurted that out, but I soon yelp when someone slaps my ass, and Steal stands abruptly, hanging up the phone in the process, the brothers with him also standing, looking behind me with anger.
I sigh, knowing that if I turn, it’ll be the guy who leered at me. Heck, I’d bet my left toe….
Steal rounds the table and grabs the man who just slapped my ass, and yep, it’s the idiot with major bald patching going on.
I groan when I see that he’s pissed himself, and he opens his mouth, most likely to beg to be released, but before words can come out, Jimmy is here instantly with security.
He booms, “No one slaps my fucking staff!”
Security grabs the guy from a reluctant Steal and hauls him out of the club as Jimmy raises a bushy black eyebrow at me and says, “Safe to say your secret’s blown,” as he nods to Steal.
I huff out a laugh and admit, “I know, but I’m still not giving up my job.” Jimmy nods, and I say, “Next time a customer slaps my ass though, Jimmy, I’m going back behind the bar and the men can collect their own drinks tonight.”
He sighs. “Yeah, I know,” he says before turning to leave but soon groans when I state, “By the way, my husband's on his way.”
Lifting his hand in defeat, he heads back to his hiding place in the darkened club to watch everything. I look back at Steal to see his anger still there as he takes in my outfit—shorts that can be classed as girl boxer briefs and a bra.
“Guess I should be happy he knows about Anchor,” he says while a very hot guy with deep blue eyes and black hair with the name Axel on his cut, the Untamed Hell Fire’s MC under it, gasps, “Anchor’s fucking married?”
I snort, look back at Steal, and say, "Yep, I can’t say the same about all the brothers and clubwhores knowing about me, though, hey?”
“Heaven…” Steal tries, but I shake my head and walk away.
I have a job to do.
“Cheers, gorgeous,” the bald, overweight man says as I hand him a whiskey while Princess–yes, that’s the name Sandra, the top dancer, chose after dying her hair bright pink–crouches down and spreads her legs, everything in view—and wet, I might add.
She smirks at me, wagging her brows, and I roll my eyes but I soon frown when her eyes widen, and I feel an arm wrap around my waist. I sigh, my body knowing exactly who it is.
Travis….
“Dude, y-you can’t touch t-the staff,” the bald man slurs, and I give him a small smile.
“He’s my husband,” I confirm, and Princess’s mouth drops in shock, but I ignore her and allow Travis to gently guide me backward toward the VIP table where the brothers are.
Once we’re out of the crowd, Travis turns me in his arms, his hand going to my ass to try and cover me up from the brothers, and we lock eyes.
So much rage shines back at me that I have to swallow the lump in my throat.
“Get your things because we’re leaving, and you, my wife, have some explaining to do!” he sneers coldly, and I tense as the brothers all curse and groan, knowing he’s just fucked up.
Is he kidding me right now?
I have been working here for years while he was living his best life; he doesn’t get to tell me what to do, not now, not ever.
I glare hard at him and back out of his hold before I point at him and snap, “I have been working here for six years, Travis, and like hell am I allowing you to tell me what to do.” He curls his lip in anger, and yes he looks hot as hell, but I ignore my libido like I do every single night and continue, “I don’t strip, I don’t normally walk the floor. I’m a bartender wearing basically a bikini, so get a grip, sit your ass down with Steal, and shut up!”
“Heaven, I’m barely holding on right now,” he admits as he grips my hips, and a little part of me melts.
“This is my job, Travis,” my eyes race between his, and I remind him, “I walked in on you cheating on me with my high school bully.”
“Fuck, no, he didn’t,” I hear someone behind him mutter.
“What a fucking idiot,” another curses.
I continue, my eyes on my husband’s, “Maybe this can be your penance.” He flinches, and I ask, “Is your dad with Micha?” He nods once, and I state, “Right, you can stay with Steal until I finish my shift at two because I’m not leaving and you can’t force me. This is my life; it’s my control, so deal with it or go to therapy alone tomorrow.”
That said, I lean on my tiptoes and press a kiss on the corner of his mouth, but before I can pull away, he moves his head and kisses me hard on the lips, gripping my hips tightly before pulling back and smirking.
“Now everyone knows you are mine,” he states firmly.
I grin and retort, “Or now they believe I’m easy.”
His face drops, anger taking over, and I grin wider as I turn on my heels and head to the bar for the next round of drinks, with the brother’s laughter following.
I love him, I know I do, but he needs to understand that what he did was inexcusable and that I won’t be my mother, I won’t ever rely on a man, especially one that has already cheated on me, even if it was ten years ago….