Chapter 11 Willa
Willa
When I asked Aimee to tag along, I didn’t realize we’d end up at the strip club. It’s like coming full circle to the first time I saw Dean after twelve years apart. Watching him from across the bar, fully immersed in the life he’s made for himself. Proof we no longer fit in each other’s worlds.
How does any girl compete with this lifestyle?
The stunning blonde who was on stage when I arrived is now standing at the bar talking to Dean. Her white lingerie barely covers anything as she rakes her red nails down his arm and smiles at him. Her hand pauses on his forearm, and I clench my teeth so hard they might shatter.
I have absolutely no claim on him. But that small touch makes me want to rip her hand away.
“Maybe we should leave,” Aimee offers, glancing from me to Dean.
“I’m fine,” I lie, taking another sip of my beer.
My fingers grip the bottle tighter when the blonde leans in to whisper something in Dean’s ear. He glances at a hallway behind them. And when he stands to follow her down it, my whole chest tightens.
Maybe this is how I pay my penance for the things I’ve done to him.
After all, I’m the one who told him to leave. This is simply him doing exactly what I asked him to do. He’s living his life. Enjoying it to the fullest. The trouble is, when I turned Dean away, I didn’t consider that I’d be around to witness his happiness without being a part of it.
“It’s probably just business,” Aimee says, but it offers little reassurance.
The blonde was eyeing him before she left the stage, so I doubt they’re just talking. Who could blame her for going after what she wants? Especially considering how good Dean looks tonight.
I force a smile and pretend not to care because I have no right to. I spent twelve years in a relationship with his brother, and while it was forced and fake for the majority of it, this is what I deserve.
“Hey, firecracker.” Havoc stops behind Aimee, caging her in his arms. “You ready to head to the shop for a minute? I need to pick up something for tomorrow, and then we can head home.”
“Ready.” She smiles up at him, then glances at me. “You ready to go?”
“Why would she leave with you when she’s got me to entertain her?” Soul stops at my side, wrapping an arm over my shoulders.
He’s donning his signature grin, drawing out the color in his green eyes. I can see why all the girls watch him when he walks into a room. He’s impossible not to notice. Although, a bit too pretty compared to what I gravitate toward, so I’m not interested.
“I’ll give Willa a ride back later.” Soul slides onto Aimee’s barstool when she stands up.
“I’m sure you will.” Aimee rolls her eyes, and they land on me. “He has a pretty face and says pretty words, but do not fall for this one. He’s nothing but trouble.”
“You love me, Aimee Landry.” Soul grins.
“I love him.” She points at Havoc standing behind her. “I tolerate you for his sake.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself,” Soul says, and Havoc laughs, clearly not threatened.
Havoc wraps an arm around Aimee’s waist and kisses her on the top of her head.
“You okay staying with this guy?” she asks me.
“I’m good,” I assure her, not ready to go even if I don’t want to think about what might be happening down that hallway. “I’m used to wrangling wild animals. I can handle myself just fine.”
“I like you, Willa Elliott.” Soul slaps a hand on the bar when Brandy approaches. “She’ll have another.”
“This one is still full.” I hold up my beer.
“Then drink faster.” He takes a beer from Brandy and taps it against mine, watching me while we both take a sip.
The airiness in his gaze shifts when Aimee and Havoc leave, and it’s just the two of us.
I get the sense he’s trying to figure me out for his club or for his friend.
Maybe both. I don’t blame him for how I came here.
Or after what I did to Dean. So I sit back and wait for Soul to get his thoughts off his chest.
Except that’s not what he does. He sits across from me, watching. Assessing me without asking a single question for a couple of minutes.
“What?” I finally ask when I can’t handle it anymore.
He smirks like that’s exactly what he was waiting for. “What are your thoughts on Kincaid?”
“My ex?” I quirk an eyebrow. “He’s a dick.”
Soul leans forward slightly. “Yet you dated him for a decade.”
“What’s your point?”
“Why did you do it?”
I narrow my eyes. “Because I cared.”
He hums, tapping his thumb on the bar. “So you really loved him then?”
“I never said I loved Kincaid.”
“Neither did I.” Soul’s smile climbs up his cheeks, and it’s like he sees straight through me, so I look away.
I glance at my beer, swirling the final splash around. I might never have loved Kincaid, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t love his brother. And as messed up as it sounds, that’s exactly why I couldn’t choose Dean.
“I like you, Willa,” Soul says, dragging my attention back to him. “But you fuck with my brother’s heart again, and I won’t hesitate to drive you back to Texas myself. Understood?”
“Understood.”
He taps his beer against mine, taking a drink as he stands. “I’ve gotta pull some data for Ghost. You all right at the bar for a little while?”
“I survived your interrogation, didn’t I?”
“With flying colors, sweetheart.” He laughs, walking away.
His threat should probably scare me, but it doesn’t.
I’m glad Dean has someone like Soul in his life.
Real friends who are looking out for him, when I know he rarely looks out for himself.
People back home always wanted something out of Dean or avoided him because they thought he was too much trouble.
At least his club appreciates him enough to protect him.
He’s always looking out for others. He deserves that in return.
Soul walks away, and I stay sitting at the bar, glancing around the club.
It’s much busier than it was the last time I was here, but it’s also later at night. Sapphire Rise is nicer than any strip club I’ve seen—even if those were only in movies. I’d never been to one until I came to Vegas. There aren’t strip clubs in Lanceleaf.
Sapphire Rise has an upscale aesthetic. Women dance in expensive lingerie. The bar is well-kept. It’s clean. Classy. Purposefully decorated.
Everyone who works here seems friendly. When I arrived, Brandy stopped to have a whole conversation with me and Aimee. If it weren’t for my jealousy flaring over Dean disappearing with the blonde, I wouldn’t necessarily despise her.
“This seat taken?” A man with a blinding grin stops next to me.
One glance tells me everything I need to know about him. His outfit is purposely put together to show off his wealth, and his attention is more on my chest than my eyes. He’s looking at me like he expects more than he’s going to get, and the brazenness of his gaze is uncomfortable.
“Nope.” I turn away slightly, making room for him.
Still, he finds a way to sit too close, brushing his leg against mine.
“Sorry.” He smiles, clearly not sorry at all. “Can I get you another one?”
“I’m all set.” I tip my beer up, showing him I still have some left.
“What about something else?” His hand slides onto my leg, and when I start to pull back, he grips tighter.
His fingers dig through my fishnets, and my heart races. One moment, I’m looking into the guy’s smug face. The next, he’s being pulled away from me.
Dean has him by the neck, shoving him back a step. “Keep your hands off the women in my fucking club.”
“Whoa, sorry, man.” He holds his hands up. “I think you misunderstood. She’s not a stripper. She’s fair game.”
“Fair game?” Dean’s voice is deathly low.
Too low for how loud it is in here.
And his eyes are calm.
Too calm and promising violence.
One second, he’s so still it’s like time has frozen, the next he’s a hurricane, and all hell breaks loose.
Dean slams his fist into the guy’s nose, shattering it. Blood spurts everywhere. He reaches for a knife, not hesitating or considering the fact that we’re in a room full of people. Thankfully, a burly man with a thick beard stops him from planting the blade in the guy’s chest.
“I’ve got this, boss.”
“You didn’t have it three seconds ago when he touched my woman. Where the fuck were you, Kansas?” Dean steps forward, forcing Kansas back a step.
“Busy night. But I’m here now.” Kansas tries to de-escalate the situation, while I can’t stop playing what he said in a loop.
My woman.
Except, I’m not.
Dean and Kansas hold a silent standoff while the bleeding asshole who touched me curses as security drags him away.
It isn’t until he’s gone that Kansas’s shoulders relax, and he plants his hand on Dean’s shoulder.
He leans in to say something I can’t hear over all the noise in the club.
A few people around us watch, while others barely tear their gazes off the women on stage for a second to see what was going on.
When Kansas finally steps back, Dean nods, not relaxing the slightest as Kansas leaves.
Brandy pauses long enough to slide him a shot across the bar, which he downs in one swig. His eyes avoid me.
“You good?” I ask.
“I’m fine.” Dean scratches the back of his neck, and that’s when I notice the smallest smudge of red lipstick on his skin.
And that’s all I see.
Red.
“Willa?”
My focus snaps back as he says my name, and he’s looking at me like he just asked me a question, but I didn’t hear it. I couldn’t. All I can see is that bright red lipstick.
“I didn’t need you to save me,” I snap, tension building in my shoulders.
“You could just say thank you.”
“You could just fuck off. But I guess neither of us is getting what we want right now.”
Dean’s eyes sweep me over. “What pissed you off? Was it that guy? Because he’s—”
“Did you just fuck that girl who works for you?” I cut him off.
“What?”
I point to his neck. “Lipstick.”
He wipes a hand over it, inspecting the red on his fingers. “That’s not—”
“What it looks like? Yeah, I heard that a thousand fucking times from Kincaid, too, Dean. I know how it goes, and I don’t care.”
His jaw tenses. “I’m not my brother.”
“Whatever you say.”
“I’m not.”
I shove off the stool and start to walk away, but Dean grabs my arm before I can. He spins me to him, and my hands land on his firm chest. My fingers curl, and I hate him as much as I want him, which makes this so much worse.
Dean grabs the sides of my face and forces me to look up at him. “I didn’t fuck anyone just now.”
“I already told you I don’t care.”
“Clearly you do.” His gaze hardens. “Tiffany needed help with a customer who requested her for a private show. He was getting too handsy and needed to be dealt with. She went to thank me with a kiss, and I pulled back, so she got my neck. I didn’t fucking touch her.”
“Okay.”
“Okay? That’s it?” He laughs, but he’s not amused. “Just admit you’re jealous, Willa.”
“Jealous?” The laugh that bursts out of me is barely human, and I pull away from his grip. “Is that what you want me to be? Is that the game we’re playing right now? Because you’re the one who looked ready to kill that guy for touching me. Are you jealous, Dean?”
“He doesn’t get to fucking touch you.”
“Why not? I’m not your girl. You don’t do relationships, remember?”
“Oh yeah, I fucking remember. And why do you think that is?”
Because of me.
This is all because of me.
But I can’t change it, and I can’t take it back. All I can do is live in this reality, hating the monsters I made us.
“What are we doing?” I mumble more to myself than to him.
Dean shakes his head, not answering as he tucks his hands into his pockets. Doing the same thing he did back then, not fighting for us. Giving me what I wanted, like he does with everyone in his life now. And I can’t stand it.
Anger bubbles in my chest. I can’t hold it back. I’m on the verge of breaking, and I just want to pull him over this ledge with me. I want him to admit that I’m not the only one stuck in the past, so we can take a step forward.
Which is why I find myself continuing to push. “Why did you call me your woman?”
“It slipped out.”
“So it didn’t mean anything?”
He drags his hand through his hair, avoiding my gaze. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to answer the question.”
“So you can turn me down again? We’ve already been down this road, Willa. You’re the good girl, and I’m the fuckup your family hates. Heck, I’m the fuckup my family hates. Nothing’s changed.”
“Everything’s changed.” I force my chin up. “And I’m not a good girl.”
“Sure you aren’t.”
“You aren’t the only one who moved on with your life and grew up, Dean.”
“Says the girl always playing it safe.”
My fists clench. “Just because I’m not recklessly throwing my life around doesn’t mean I’m completely innocent.”
“Okay.” He huffs out a laugh, not believing me.
"You think I can't let loose? You think I can't be bad?"
"Can you?" His tone is a challenge, and I’m feeling just brave enough right now to accept it.
“Fine.” I take a step back, narrowing my gaze.
“What are you doing, Willa?” He watches me take another step.
“Giving you what you want, Chaos.” My glare is vicious. “You aren’t the only one of us who has changed. You want me to prove it, then this is on you.”
Spinning, I walk toward the stage, not caring how many people are here.
For me, there is only one, and I’m going to make my point to him even if it costs me the last ounce of my self-respect.
I broke us—I get it. Not just our chances of a relationship, but our friendship as well. That hurt the most.
But there’s only one way we’re going to move forward, and that’s if we stop running.
This might end as it did back then, or it might not.
What I do know is that he needs to understand that I’m different.
That I’ll take risks, even if I make a fool of myself.
We’re living in purgatory, and I’d rather step foot in hell at this point than hang on this ledge with him any longer.
So if this is how he wants to do it. Fine.
I’ll drag Dean kicking and screaming with me. We’re facing this whether we like it or not. Because I don’t want to care about him, but I do, and his jealousy tonight proves he feels the same.
My foot hits the stage, and I feel him watching me. But I don’t stop. I climb the steps, and when I finally reach the last one, I spin around and tear my shirt off. If he thinks I’m the good girl still playing it safe, then I’ll prove him wrong. This is my life now, and I’m making my own decisions.
One of us is going to break first, and since I made this mess, I might as well be the one who gets shattered this time.