15. Oscar
Chapter 15
Oscar
I watch Lottie move into the club as the door swings open. She’s like a storm — quiet but powerful, with a draw that makes my heart pause for a beat. She’s magnetic, an energy that’s drawn me in from the first moment I met her, even though she doesn’t know it.
I’m leaning against the podium at the entrance, pretending to sort through the crew’s rota for tonight, waiting for her to see me. When she does, she graces me with a soft smile, the one that is reserved for just me, like we share some unspoken bond that not even Archer gets.
No, this is mine and mine only.
She moves towards me, stretching her arms overhead, her body fluid, like she’s already in the zone for tonight. She catches me staring at her, winking as she drops her arms and stops in front of me.
Lottie grins at me, rolling her eyes as I open my arms for a hug. She steps into them willingly, and I draw her into my chest, loving the feel of her there.
“Got the place on lockdown already?” she signs as she steps back.
I smile back and nod. “Always. You know I take your safety seriously.”
She laughs, her hands moving fast as she signs, “I’m just here for a warm-up. Maybe a little dance. Nothing too crazy.”
I roll my eyes, pretending to be skeptical. “Sure,” I gesture back, raising one eyebrow. “You’re the one who always says you’re not going to do something crazy and then blows everyone away and gives me a heart attack.”
She laughs again, her shoulders shaking slightly. “I can’t help it. Sometimes, the music just takes over.”
“Well, you got this either way. I’ll be watching.” I wink at her as she shakes her head at me, then turns and makes her way to the empty stage.
I watch her as she climbs onto the stage, every movement graceful and deliberate. There’s something hypnotising about the way she moves, and the world around me fades away when she’s in her element, and I get to witness it.
Even in this dark, neon-lit club, she’s a beacon of light that is impossible not to be drawn to.
She starts her warm-up, rolling her shoulders and loosening up as she stretches her legs. Her movements are fluid, just like they always are, and I watch the tension in her body melt away with each movement.
It’s like watching poetry come to life, and I spend my days waiting for her to come in to work just to get a glimpse since I have no excuse to go around to Archer’s house with him gone.
He’s home this weekend, and I know from the messages he sent me that he’s dying to get back to Lottie and get eyes on her again. Pictures never seem to do her justice.
Archer doesn’t know what she does. The stripping is our secret, and now that he’s home full-time, I know he’ll find out.
I tap away on my phone, checking in with the security team for tonight, ensuring all exits are covered, but my attention keeps drifting back to her.
I can’t help it — Lottie Reyes is magnetic, like gravity pulling me in, and I’m too damn stupid to resist.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the guys at the bar staring a little too long at her. Mike, the new trainee. I don’t like the way his eyes are lingering on her, like he’s imagining things he has no right to be. It twists something in my gut, something I’m not ready to decipher.
I push off the podium and walk over to the bar casually, pretending to adjust my jacket. I stand close enough to see him shift uncomfortably, his gaze still glued to Lottie, before I knock his drink over with a nudge of my elbow.
It spills all over his lap.
Perfect.
I turn just in time to catch the words he was about to spout forming on his lips, but I raise an eyebrow. His lips move. “Sorry, man, didn’t see you there.”
I smirk and sign. “Too busy staring at Siren?” Reed, who’s trying to hide his smile, translates for me.
Mike hesitates, glancing back at the stage where Lottie is touching her toes, stretching. “She’s something, isn’t she?”
My teeth grind, and I lean in slightly, making sure he knows I’m not kidding. I sign, “She’s off limits.”
Mike looks at me. “I can be quite convincing.”
I’m not worried in thinking he would have a chance; no one touches her unless she allows it, and I make sure of that, but something about the idea of Mike touching her like that has my blood boiling. I turn to Reed and shake my head. “He’s done.” I gesture, moving my hands fast enough that he knows I mean business, and leave, wanting to be closer to Lottie.
Her eyes flicker to me, and I feel a sense of relief when I see the trust in her eyes. She knows I’m watching like I do every time she is dancing on that stage, not trusting anyone else with her safety.
That’s why I got this job, after all.
Lottie continues to stretch, the muscles in her legs flexing as she slides into a split with a fluidity that tightens my chest and trousers.
I don’t think I will ever get enough of this.
I pull out my phone again, send Archer a quick message that everything is fine with Lottie, and check in with the manager about the girls’ lineup for tonight so I can ensure I’m out here at the same time as Lottie.
Lottie moves closer to the pole, her hands circling the metal. She’s focused, her eyes locked onto the pole as the music starts, the bass thumping the floorboards under my feet, but her eyes keep drifting to where I’m standing every few seconds, like she’s making sure I’m still here.
“What’s wrong?” I sign.
Her gaze flickers, and she stops moving, turning her full attention to me. “Just thinking about things. You know...” She shrugs it off and twists her torso into a deep stretch.
I tilt my head, signaling I want more than just a quick answer to brush me off. I know her better than that after being in her life for two years. Lottie needs to talk about it, or she’ll retreat into herself and be lost for a few days, hiding behind a calm facade that she’s perfected.
She drops her arms, straightening slightly, her gaze avoiding mine. When she finally meets my eyes, she signs, “It’s nothing you haven’t heard before. It’s just... Archer’s coming home, and I’m happy.”
“But?”
“But I’m scared. Every time he comes back, he’s different...” Her hands still for a moment, hesitant. “Darker.”
I nod, understanding. Every deployment takes a little more from him, leaving something behind in its place. Each time he returns, he’s colder and more brutal, and the way the shadows creep into his eyes when he looks at Lottie—like he’s remembering something—scares even me.
“I get it, but nothing will change,” I try to reassure her.
Her lips press together in a thin line, and then she exhales. “Maybe, but everything feels like it’s changing. I don’t even know where I fit anymore. I mean, everything’s been great with you guys, with his parents, and I don’t know where I would have ended up had it not been for them. But things can’t stay the same. They never do.”
“You think we wouldn’t chase you down if you left?” I question her, not taking my eyes off her even as she moves away for a moment.
I watch as she shuts her eyes tightly, as if the idea of leaving physically hurts.
If Lottie decided to leave, I don’t think she’d ever know a minute of peace once we found her. Archer would use every contact he’s ever made in the Marines and with his family to track her down, then shackle her to him so she could never leave again.
It isn’t a bad thing if I put a tracker under her skin as she sleeps, is it?
The idea of Lottie leaving me... us, it has my heart pounding wildly in my chest and bile rising in my throat. Somehow, this woman who barely reaches my shoulders has wiggled her way into the heart I once swore would never beat for another. Not after I watched my dad treat my mom the way he did, breaking her heart weekly when he came home smelling of other women.
“I think that I’m not made for this world,” she signs, her face open and honest, and my heart cracks at the vulnerability on it.
I want to tell her I think she was made to be my world, my entire universe, and that I would happily spend my life exploring it as long as I had her.
But she’s not mine, and she never will be.
She’s Archer’s girl — the reason he is leaving the Marines this week after five years.
Lottie is no longer the eighteen-year-old girl he brought home. Now, she’s a woman who has fire in her eyes rather than the shadows that once haunted them.
“You belong more than you think, Siren.”
Her fingers tighten around the pole, whitening and flexing against the cold metal, but I see the tremor in them.
Her eyes flicker over to me again, and for a brief moment, I see the vulnerability that was there when I first met her, hiding behind them.
I step closer, my gaze never leaving hers. “You’re overthinking.”
Her fingers loosen, but she doesn’t look at me immediately. When she does, her eyes are distant. “I’m not sure I know who I’m supposed to be,” she signs.
It hits me harder than I expected. My chest is tightening so much that I think I’m having a heart attack, and I swallow against the lump in my throat.
Lottie has been the fire, the girl who stomps through the bullshit and lights up everything around her, drawing us all in. But now? Now, it’s as if she’s lost in the smoke, trying to find her way out.
I cross the space between us, stopping in front of her. “You don’t need to have all the answers, Siren. You don’t have to be anything other than who you are.”
The rawness in her eyes cuts deeper than any words I could offer. “But what if what I am isn’t enough for you all?” Her hands shake as she signs. “I don’t know how to keep pretending that I’m okay.”
I take a deep breath, steadying myself and talking myself down from grabbing her and hauling her into my arms. “You don’t have to pretend. I love you...” I catch myself, “We love you for who you are. We just want you to be happy.”
She shifts uncomfortably, her eyes moving away from mine like she’s scared that if I look too close, I’ll expose everything inside her.
“I feel like I’m losing control, Oscar,” she signs, her hands moving faster now, her frustration seeping through. “Archer’s coming home, and yet again, everything is going to change. He’s never the same, somehow always worse, and I won’t be able to fix him.”
I want to understand where the fears are coming from, but I know nothing about Lottie’s past. I know Archer saved her and brought her home to a family that she desperately needed, but every time her past is brought up, she shuts down.
When he first brought her here, I asked what led to her being in danger, and none of us seen her for days. She only allowed Archer to bring her food to her room, and he nearly lost his mind when she suggested she would get the first bus out of here to the furthest possible place she could.
Archer is no longer the same as he was two years ago, either. The fear of losing Lottie while he’s on deployment and isn’t around to save her has messed him up, but he needed to join the Marines like his father and his grandfather to join the family business. Every time he comes back from deployment, he’s tired, distant, and broken in ways that none of us could understand. The man who leaves isn’t the same as the one who returns, and it’s harder for all of us every time, particularly for Lottie.
“You don’t have to fix him,” I tell her. “He’s not your responsibility to fix. You can’t save everyone, Lottie.”
“No, I can’t save anyone. I learned that the hard way ,” she signs before she can stop herself. She stares at me for a moment, tears glistening in her eyes, before she turns away and heads to the soundboard, where she turns the music up so loud I can feel the bass under my feet.
She shuts herself off from everything, her eyes fluttering closed as she surrenders entirely to the music. The pole becomes a weapon in her hands as she pulls herself upward, then descends just centimeters from the floor.