CHAPTER THREE
Heather—
When I pick up Tucker, he’s excitedly jabbering away about his day with my sister.
“Aunt Abby and me watched a movie called Lion King. Have you ever seen it, Mom?”
“Of course.”
“Why haven’t we watched it before?”
“I don’t know. I guess we never got around to it.”
“Simba’s dad dies in the movie, just like mine.”
I meet his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Did that make you sad?”
“Yeah.” He stares out the window at the darkening skies. “But I still liked the movie.”
“Maybe we could watch it together. Would you like that?”
He nods.
“Okay. Maybe this weekend.”
“You won’t have to work?”
I hate that work takes so much time away from him, but it pays the bills. At least he doesn’t know what I do. He thinks I’m a waitress. He doesn’t know that his mom is a stripper, and I hope he never finds out.
Three hours later, I’ve fed, bathed, and put Tucker to bed.
Pouring myself a sweet tea, I spread my notebooks and laptop on the dining room table and get to work.
I’ve only got two classes left before I get my associates degree in accounting.
Once I do, I hope to be able to land a bookkeeping job or a job as a tax preparer, and maybe someday work toward getting my CPA.
The money won’t be nearly as much as I make right now, but at least it will get me out of the nightclubs and into a nine-to-five job and give me so much more time with my son.
I’ve got the night off, so I plan to take advantage and get caught up on my assignments.
At half-past eleven, there’s a knock. I glance toward the apartment door.
Please don’t be Snake. Please don’t be Snake.
The man hasn’t left me alone since I let him buy me some drinks one night. Somehow, he’s decided I’m his. I saw him ride past the cemetery today and wondered how he always seems to show up where I am.
I tiptoe to the door and peer through the peephole.
There he stands, tall, bearded, and tattooed. He’s a member of the Death Heads MC. A nomad, he told me. Not connected to any one location. Sometimes he has a fellow nomad with him named Greasy. Tonight, he’s alone.
“Open up, babe. I know you’re in there.”
My eyes slide shut. I know him well enough to know that if I piss him off, he gets mean.
Sliding the chain, I open the door. He could boot the thing open if he wanted to, anyway.
“Hey, Snake. What are you doing here?”
“Why aren’t you workin’ tonight?”
“It’s my day off. I need to catch up on my courses.”
He strolls to the table and looks at my workbooks, picking one up and dropping it. “I don’t know why you bother with this shit. You’ll never make what you’re makin’ now.”
“Because maybe I don’t want to be a stripper for the rest of my life.” I don’t know what possessed me to say that to him. Backtalk sets him off. “I won’t be young forever.”
He scoffs. “Well, you are right now, and you’re a money-making machine. In fact, you’re too good for that two-bit club you work at. I’ve got a much better place in mind. A place where you could make twice what you’re makin’ now.”
“I like Cowboy’s.” The manager takes care of us and doesn’t cheat the dancers.
“I think Texas is the place for you. At first, I considered Daytona. My club’s got a good gentleman’s club there, but the more I think of it, the more I think we’ll like Texas better.”
“I’m not moving to Texas. This is my home.”
Snake moves so fast, he takes me by surprise. His fist curls around my hair, and he hauls me against the wall, pressing my cheek against it. “You’ll go where I say to go. If I want to go to fuckin’ Timbuctoo then that’s where we’re goin’, understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Good. Now pack your shit. I want to get a start first thing in the morning. You better be ready when I come back.” He heads for the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To talk to somebody about a truck. We’ll have to put the bike in the back. Can’t take you and the kid on my bike, can I?”
I shake my head.
He points at me. “If your shit is not packed when I get back, I’m leavin’ it. Understand?”
“Yes. I’ll be ready.”
The moment he walks out the door, I move to the window and peer through a crack in the blinds, waiting until he pulls out.
Then I run and pack a duffel bag with the bare minimum: a change of clothes, my laptop, chargers, a photo album, Tucker’s teddy bear, and a few of his special toys.
I don’t know how much time I have, but I don’t plan to be here when Snake returns.