Creed (The Dark Sins Duet #1)

17. Creed

Chapter 17

Creed

B ear, Riley and I sat waiting patiently for this Star dancer after the threat that fucking scary-ass bouncer left us, while Tony was making even more of an ass of himself. I didn’t think paying her to dance for us was a good idea, but something about her had me curious enough to get a closer look. Now my knees are bouncing in anticipation to see her again. So many of her real features were hidden behind a wig and makeup which is no doubt done on purpose.

But when I’d heard someone refer to her as Stardust after the show, I nearly fell out of the booth where we were seated at the irony of the nickname, especially today. Her birthday. It’s an impossibility, so the fact that I’d paid to keep her near me long enough for four fucking private dances, so I guess that makes me a masochist.

Barrett looks calm and collected, his face giving away none of his real emotions, just like he always does. He finishes pulling his long hair up into a messy bun on top of his head and runs his hand down his beard before crossing his massive arms over his chest. Sometimes I forget how fucking huge the guy is, his nickname fitting for him. He’s eyeing Tony who now looks like he’s fucking tweaked out but somehow also about to pass out.

He's bouncing in his seat restlessly when he cups his hands over his mouth, his slurred words shouting over to the opposite corner of the room where she was no doubt waiting to begin. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart. We already know how fuckin’ talented you are. We just wanna see those ti—ah, fuck, what the fuck, man?!”

Tony rubs at his shoulder where Bear just sucker-punched him. Probably a little too hard, but I don’t fucking care, he deserved it. “Shut the fuck up, T.” He growls at the idiot who’s now starting to slump over in the seat.

It’s embarrassing to watch. We might be rockstars , but we don’t live the stereotypical life of sex, drugs, and endless partying. Well, maybe not the drugs part. I reach out with my leg and shove his knee, trying to rouse him. “Jesus fucking Christ, Romano. If you don’t shut the fuck up I’m going to just let her have the money and drag your ass out of here myself, private dance be damned.”

Tony’s mouth moves, making some kind of intelligible noise before he’s completely unconscious and the room is quiet again. We all take notice that she still hasn’t started. I’m about to say something when Riley’s quiet voice speaks up, surprising me.

“I’m sorry, Star. You can, uh, start whenever you’re ready… I guess.” His legs are bouncing and his thumbs are nervously tapping out some rapid beat, no doubt matching his heart rate right now. The auburn waves on top of his head fall messily over his brow, nearly hiding the nervousness behind his dark eyes.

A second later, a slow, sultry song starts to play and all of our heads snap to the corner of the room. The whole world fades away when she steps out from behind the partition. The room is so fucking dimly lit that I can barely make out her features but the way she moves is so goddamn intoxicating.

I’m enraptured by this girl with curves that bend and sway with utter perfection, every move she makes pulling me deeper under her spell. She knows we paid for four separate dances and as she spins and dips, even in the dark of the room I can see her assessing us, choosing who she wants to dance for first.

The jealousy that burns through me when she drops to her hands and knees and fucking crawls to Riley is unreal. My cock is so hard behind my jeans right now that I can feel it pressing against my zipper through my boxers. I tip my head back as a low groan escapes from deep in my chest. Fuck, the sight of her dancing is conjuring up all kinds of fantasies.

This girl is going to be the perfect distraction I needed tonight. She turns, the long red hair falling over her shoulder, curtaining her and Riley’s faces as she places her knees on either side of his thighs, straddling his lap. His throat bobs, and I watch through a hooded gaze as his chest rises and falls with quickened breaths at their close proximity.

I spare a glance at the other couch where Bear is watching them, his typical mask of indifference plastered on his face. He was never an overly emotional person, but I feel like he’s forgotten what it means to even smile over the last decade.

The dancer moves in Riley’s lap and my eyes snap back to them. She leans forward and for a moment my heart stops when I think she’s going to kiss him but she bypasses his mouth and whispers something in his ear. When she pulls back and his eyes meet hers, even in this dark room, I see what looks like understanding simmering between them.

His shoulders are still tense, but he looks to be a little more at ease, and it’s clear that he’s got stars in his eyes for this girl. She gives him a small nod while undulating her hips over his crotch and his hands slowly lift and grab her hips.

Remembering the warning the bouncer gave us I lean over in my seat, shouting over the music. “Ri—” but she stops me, holding her hand out, never breaking eye contact with my best friend. I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene before me with the way this tiny dancer fits perfectly in Riley’s lap. I’m rock hard just from watching the two of them and their eye contact alone .

The song finishes and another by some guy I’ve heard all over social media starts to play and she climbs off of Riley and immediately begins a new dance to the music. It seems to take her no time at all to make her decision this time around when her attention shifts to me.

Holy shit. Being the subject of her attention is a whole new experience itself. She fucking oozes sensuality and sex. The way the emerald-green outfit shines in the low light, hugging her every delicious curve is intoxicating. Inviting. My hands are itching to squeeze her curves and pull her closer, just to rip that outfit from her body and find out what she’s hiding beneath it.

She spins in front of me, facing away and nearly standing directly between my wide-spread legs when she bends in half and slowly drags her hands up and over her legs until she’s standing again. Her hands land just above her perky round ass when the upper half of her body twists toward me.

The urge to reach down and squeeze my hardening cock is hard to tamper down when she bites into that full lower lip. Then she winks. Fucking winks at me. I feel my entire body heat at the simple action. I’m practically vibrating with need and I ball my hands into fists to keep from grabbing and pulling her into my lap and keeping her there for the rest of the night.

She turns to fully face me, her hips swaying to the beat before she leans forward and presses her perfectly round tits toward my face before crawling into my lap just like she did to Riley just moments ago.

The closer proximity gives me a better view of her beautiful, albeit painted face. Her face, now mere inches from mine, I see them. The subtle yet familiar marks on her skin that create a map that is all her. A small scar cutting just beneath her brow from hitting her head when she was six. The cluster of darker freckles on her right cheek, just below her eye, that look oddly just like the little dipper constellation. Pieces click together and recognition hits me like a sucker-punch to the dick when she lowers her gaze to mine and I’m met with a pair of all-too-familiar jade green eyes. It’s like my heart has been branded with a hot iron and having ice water dumped over me all at once.

Being this close to her, breathing the same fucking air, I see the exact moment she recognizes me, too. Her entire body freezes and I think she’s stopped breathing. I don’t think I am either because what the actual fuck.

The whole world stops spinning. Everyone ceases to exist. Everyone except for Collins Adaire Weston. I’m sorry, Star—FUCKING STAR, of all stage names— who gave my best friend the most erotic lap dance I’ve ever seen. Collins, who is currently straddling my waist and hovering over my raging erection. A fucking erection that I thought I had for a dancer who moved like sin incarnate, who I thought would take my mind off of the guilt eating at me tonight. Oh, but the joke is on me because this woman who looks like a shiny little present, artfully strapped into this shiny contraption actually is the very reason for my guilt. The reason I haven’t looked at any other women. My obsession that… Just. Won’t. Quit.

Despite the many fantasies that have featured her in my mind, I can’t have her like this.

Not when she’s dressed like?—

When she’s straddling?—

Not when she feels?—

FUCK. I can’t even string together a normal thought.

This isn’t right. There are too many eyes on her body and I also need to get her off of me ASA-fucking-P, before I touch her the way I’ve been fantasizing about for nearly two years. But humiliating her by shoving her off of me like a sack of hot potatoes just because I’m panicking on the inside isn’t an option either, so before she can even blink I grab her wrists and flip us sideways on the couch where her body is trapped underneath mine.

Clearly I didn’t think this through because this position is exponentially worse, with her body trapped beneath me and my legs pressed between her toned thighs .

A small, rasping squeak is forced from her throat and all hell breaks loose. No sooner does the sound leave her lips, that the lights are brightened and I’m being ripped away, my back slamming into the wall with Nightmare the Bouncer-Man pressing his forearm against my throat. I can see Bear and Riley shouting and shoving off of the couch in front of me before Riley bends down and gently lifts Collins into a sitting position.

Always the calm in the chaos.

Despite all the shit going down and the threat of death by asphyxiation by the behemoth pinning me to the wall, I can’t help but keep my eyes trained on Collins , loving and hating the way she looks like a beautiful mess.

She turns toward my boys and her whole body tenses when I’m assuming she recognizes Bear. That assumption is confirmed when she whispers his name.

It takes him a minute before it hits him, his eyes widening and lips parting in shock. It’s the first real emotion he’s shown in years. His eyes flick to mine for a split second before dropping back to her small frame sitting on the edge of the couch cushion. “Holy shit.”

The bouncer’s voice is shockingly gentle as he asks her what to do with us, effectively cutting off any further comments or conversations from my bandmates. His tenderness towards her just pisses me off. Who is he to her? Are they…? Shit, he looks to be twice her age, at least, but age gap in adults means fuck all these days. The soft, answering rasp of her voice washes over me and my fiery irritation snuffs out like a balm my charred soul didn’t know it needed, telling him she wanted to talk to me… alone.

Fuck. Me.

He releases me roughly and I rub at my throat as he turns to leave but barks the order to get Tony’s ass off his couch. I watch as Riley chuckles uncomfortably to himself and Bear just grunts as they haul our bassist to his feet. Riley gives me a small smile and Bear nods and gives me a knowing look before they leave the room.

Then it’s just me and her .

Ten. Fucking. Years. Later.

She’s here. I’ve found her.

…in the worst fucking place imaginable.

I’m fucking angry. Pissed. Upset. Sad.

Relieved.

Because she’s actually here.

With me.

In this fucking shady-ass club.

In my goddamned city.

Has she been living under my fucking nose this whole time and I’ve just been blind? Seriously, and I mean this with every fiber of my being when I say, what the fuck?! I want to stay angry, but I don’t know if I can let the emotion take precedence. Not when she looks at me like the way she is right now… with those jade eyes, all wide and doe-eyed, so fucking full of confusion, hurt, relief and something that looks an awful lot like longing.

We stand in the bright room just staring at one another for a moment before she wordlessly rushes to close the distance between us and wraps her arms around my middle and squeezes me in a tight hug.

Just like that, ten years of walls built to harden my heart start to crumble as I pull her tighter into me at the same time she buries her face into my neck and sighs.

“ Creed .” She whispers so softly, I almost don’t hear it.

Fuuuuck. My name on her lips should not sound that good. It’s better than I ever fantasized. I clear my throat at the same time I attempt to clear my rapidly dirtying thoughts.

“ Collins.” I echo back to her.

I squeeze her tighter, afraid that if I let her go, she’ll disappear from me again. I inhale her scent, the salty tang of her sweat mixed with a sweet citrus scent. Now is not the time for indecent thoughts but Jesus Christ , she smells fucking edible.

Down, Creed. BAD.

When she starts to pull away, I let her go reluctantly even though my hands are itching to keep touching her in some way, as if needing the contact to remind myself that she’s still here with me and this not a dream. I want to touch her, to hold her, but fuck, I need to keep my hands to myself. Now that she’s here in person, seeing her face for the first time in a decade, all the guilt and shame I’ve carried for so long has been released and it’s currently wreaking havoc on my body, feeding my inner turmoil.

Collins turns and grabs a robe I didn’t notice hanging on the back of the door to the room and wraps it around herself. I find myself disappointed that her beautiful body is now covered up and I mentally slap myself because now is not the time for lustful thoughts. Maybe later. Once the robe is tied, she wraps her arms around her midsection, as if to protect herself. She bites down on her full lower lip, worrying it between her teeth and it takes all of my control to not reach out and thumb it free and maybe kiss it all better.

Her eyes dart around the room, looking anywhere but at me. She coughs to clear her throat, and her voice is barely audible when she finally speaks.

“Um, can you…do you want to sit and talk? I—I’m sure you have… questions.” She stammers, her delicate fingers now wringing together nervously.

I take a look around the room, before outstretching my arms wide, gesturing to the whole building and pinning her with a wide-eyed look as if to say, What the fuck, Collins? I’ve been looking for you for two fucking years and I find you in a goddamned strip club. What the fuck happened? But all I say to her is, “To say I’m confused as shit is putting it mildly.”

It came out more harsh and clipped than I’d intended, but I can’t say I’m sorry for it. The look on her face right now is telling me that she’s been caught rather than being found, and that kind of pisses me off.

“I know,” She winces and speaks softly, nodding like she has a damn clue of what I’ve felt for the last two years when she disappeared.

She reaches up, scratching at her wig before grunting and ripping the bright red mess of tangled hair off of her head, her face scrunching at the effort as I see it pull at the skin on her forehead. I flinch at the way it looks like she’s tearing her own skin from her scalp, because holy shit it looks like that shit hurt. She sighs in relief even though her head is still covered in a nylon cap and hair pins holding it in place. If I weren’t fucking reeling at this whole surreal situation, I’d find it laughable.

I make to head for the couch to sit down but Collins’ arm snaps out, stopping me, her eyes a little panicked as she whisper-shouts, “Not here!”

I look down at her tiny form and don’t miss the way her hands are shaking as she retracts and shifts to grip her own elbows. “I don’t want Tank to see us speaking. If he knew that we knew each other, he would?—”

“Who the fuck is Tank?” I interrupt, my tone short and agitated. Is it that hulking brute that looked like he could eat me for breakfast and still be hungry for seconds? Are they together? The thought pisses me off more and I glare at Collins as I wait for an answer to a question that I know shouldn’t be important, but it is.

I swear on all that is holy that I’m not trying to be an asshole tonight. Really. I’m not. But I have so many questions and emotions battling for the top spot in my mind right now that it’s becoming difficult to keep my emotions in check.

She’s not mine.

Not my family.

Not my girl.

My girl.

My brain short-circuits and I’m suddenly hung up on the last two words of that little statement… and I can’t help liking the way that it sounds.

Fuck! No. No, no, no, fuck no .

“He’s my boss,” she finally answers. She glances behind me , listening for a moment before her eyes harden and she stares at the door while her next words are nearly spit from her lips like a viper’s venom. “And he’s a shady, greedy, disgusting excuse for a man. He takes advantage of everyone around him without an ounce of remorse, and if he thought for even a second that I knew you, he’d?—”

“Well, would ya look at this,” a gruff voice slurs from behind us at the same time the door bangs off the wall for the second time tonight. We both whirl around and Collins freezes to the spot when a man who I’m guessing is the boss she’d mentioned is standing in the doorway that was just closed moments before. He’s a slimy looking fucker with thinning hair that’s been slicked back with nothing but the grease he’s produced. Sweat and food stains litter his ratty button down bowling shirt. His eyes are bloodshot and I can practically smell the vodka seeping from his pores in hot, sweaty waves.

Yeah, shady doesn’t even begin to describe this asshole. I instinctively take a step forward, placing myself between Collins and the guy who I’m assuming is this Tank fucker Collins mentioned.

“It ain’t even been fifteen minutes and already my new clients are leaving? The fuck did you do this time, girl?” He all but growls the words at Collins and it sets my teeth on edge. This time?

“It was just a misunderstanding, Tank. I’m-I’m sorry.” Collins answers behind me, her voice wavering. I’m not even looking at her but I can feel the fear and nervousness radiating off of her in waves while I feel her fist the back of my shirt in a tight fist.

He ignores her answer when his beady eyes slide to me and it’s like his personality takes a u-turn from dicktown and right into pleasantville. He whoops excitedly, clapping his hands once before rubbing them together excitedly. “Man, can’t fuckin’ believe it. The Creed Saint James in my club.” He strokes his dirty looking fingers over his unkempt beard. “I see you weren’t in here for very long, and I just saw Jett leaving this room with your lil’ band buddies in tow. Did you not get to enjoy a dance from the club’s favorite Star girl ?” he uses her nickname condescendingly and chuckles, but the undertone of malice in his voice is evident. “She tends to be a very naughty girl to my best clients.” he slurs again, pointing his dirty finger toward her, “You fucked this up for yet another client, so we will be having that little talk we discussed earlier.” He snarls, trying to look around me at Collins with his drunken, icy stare, but I take a step to the side to block her further.

I’m about one more what the fuck moment from committing murder for the first time in my life. Jesus fucking Christ.

I am in complete disbelief of tonight’s turn of events.

Starting with some freak celestial realigning, I find Collins.

Collins… who’s all grown up.

Working in a fucking strip club.

Wearing next to nothing and looking like sin.

Dancing.

Working for this dirty sack of shit.

She’s clearly scared, so her behavior and reaction are learned by repetition.

Murder is on the mind for the fucker in front of me right now and sounding better and better all the time.

“No, I don’t think you will,” The words are out before I can stop them but fuck if it’s not a threat as much as it’s a statement with finality.

Of course the words don’t stick, though. Inebriation can cause false bravado in a man like Tank, so the nasty grin that pulls at his mouth as he takes a step into the room has my hackles rising. I don’t budge, even as I feel Collins tugging at my t-shirt as she tries to step back. It’s like he didn’t even hear me earlier as he tries to look around me to Collins and barks, “Get that wig back on and go get your ass ready for another set, Star . You’ve cost me too much tonight as it is, so you need to make up for the loss.”

I scrunch my nose at his close proximity because this dude really is just gross. And he owns this place? Make it make sense.

Collins starts to release my shirt and move around me, but I place my hand on her lower belly and push her back behind me without taking my eyes off of the asshole in front of me. “You don’t fucking talk to her.” I snarl, stepping up close to him despite my stomach roiling at his odor. He may be bigger, but this fucker is so out of shape I doubt it would take much to bring his ass to the ground if I lunged at him.

I barely hear Collins’ voice whisper a soft “Don’t,” at the same time Tank barks a dark laugh.

“I can talk to her however the fuck I see fit, seeing as I own her ass.” He chuckles again, but it lacks all humor. A muscle tics in my jaw as I stare him down, He will never own a damn thing when it comes to Collins Weston. That title of ownership had been claimed two years ago so surprise, motherfucker. It’s me. Hi.

Tank runs a hand over the top of his greasy hair, false confidence oozing from his words, similar to the way the alcohol seeps from his pores. He chuckles before he keeps talking, further digging his own grave. “But hey, I’ll let you in on a lil’ secret, Creed ,” he starts, taking another step toward me and leaning down like he’s sharing a secret. Still I don’t move. My muscles coiling tighter with tension, just fucking daring him to say one more thing about Collins. “I have it on good authority from my top clients, that with a little molly and a quality pair of leather cuffs, this little princess here can give one hell of a happy ending.” His mouth turns into a malicious grin. “Isn’t that right?—”

I see red. I don’t let him finish as my fist collides hard into his nose, a satisfying, sickening crunch brings an unhinged smile to my face, and I revel in the sound of his nose breaking in this small, quiet room. Tank falls into an unconscious heap right in the middle of the floor, blood gushing from his now broken nose. I’m momentarily sad because I really wanted to hit him again.

Rage burns through my veins, filling every inch of my being with the need for more violence. Collins whimpers behind me and I realize she never once released my shirt, her grip now so tight it threatens to puncture the fabric. I can feel her shaking and I can’t stand not seeing her anymore. I take one last look at Tank, making sure he’s actually knocked out before I carefully turn to come face to face with her. Well, face to chest, because despite her long legs and heels, she’s still tiny.

“Hey, you okay?” I ask softly, not wanting to scare her further even though I’m still vibrating with anger. She doesn’t answer, nor does she release me so I can only turn toward her partially to look at her, but she’s not looking at me. I see she must have slipped the bright wig back onto her head before she gripped my shirt because the bright red hair is back in place, slightly tamer than it was before she removed it. She’s staring wide-eyed at my chest, but her gaze is vacant. I watch as her eyes dart back and forth but they’re unseeing. Tanks words must have triggered something in her, causing this panic with her and I feel the red mist settle over my eyes again. Collins looks like she’s lost in a memory right now.

Not a memory , a fucking nightmare .

The truth of the situation slams into me all at once, because there’s something that Tank had said that’s now ringing around my brain again and again; ‘ happy ending ’. It doesn’t take a goddamned genius to know what he and Tony were referring to when they said it, but now… was he telling me that she was fucking drugged, restrained, and forced to have sex with the clients here?

Nausea swirls in my gut at the thought of anyone taking advantage of her, of life still only taking and taking and taking from her after she fought to free herself.

“Collins,” I say as softly as I can with all this rage still boiling just beneath the surface. Her eyes snap up to mine, but it’s like she’s still not seeing me. In an instant, her shaking stops, but she still isn’t present in reality yet. It actually looks as though she’s dissociating.

Fuck.

I reach down and brush my fingers over her knuckles where they’re still white with a tight grip on my shirt. I haven’t tried to remove her hands because of how tightly they’re clenched, so my shirt is currently twisted around my torso, the fabric stretching as far as it will go. I curl my fingers around her hand, trying my best to grip her palms and not her wrists. “Let go, Stardust . I’ve got you.”

Her grip loosens, but she still clings to me. I watch as her whole body starts to shiver like she’s cold, even though it’s warm in this room.

Shit, she’s starting to panic through a dissociative episode. I have absolutely no fucking clue what I’m supposed to do here, but what I do know is that I’m not letting her stay here for another goddamned minute.

I wrap my arms around her shaking body and hold her close, rubbing one hand up and down her spine as I pull my phone from my pocket with the other and shoot off a text to Riley.

Me: Send Tony with Bear and bring the car around the back of the building.

Riley: What’s going on?

Me: I’ll tell you when I get there. Hurry.

Riley: On my way.

As soon as I pocket my phone again, I waste no time in scooping Collin’s into my arms.

“Come on, baby, I’m getting you the fuck out of here.” Her body stiffens even more, even with her shaking, but she makes no argument or move to get down. I whisper more calming words in her ear as I make my way out of the room and follow the neon exit signs. I’m almost to the back door when multiple things happen in an unfortunate sequence of events.

Collins starts to fidget in my arms, her dainty hands pressing on my chest, trying to push me away while murmuring something unintelligible under her breath.

“Hey, hey, calm down, Stardust . It’s me, it’s Creed.” I murmur softly as I set her back on her feet, my head bent down to her level .

Her head snaps up to me and her eyes are wide with panic still. It fucking guts me to see her like this.

Before I can reach out to try and comfort her or even say a word, a huge-ass hand clamps down on my shoulder and for the second time tonight I find myself pinned to the fucking wall by my throat. Again.

Oh, look who rejoined the party. It’s Bodyguard Man the Barbarian.

“I’m getting really fucking sick of you putting your goddamned hands on me, motherfucker.” I spit through clenched teeth, reaching up and gripping his tree trunk of an arm, trying to yank myself free.

“And I’m getting really fucking sick of finding you touching her. I don’t give a shit how fucking famous you think you are. I will lay your ass out and leave you in the woods for the goddamned coyotes to feed on.”

I really want to punch this fucker in the face for threatening and manhandling me, but at the same time I can’t be mad at the fact that he’s being so protective over Collins. Wait, yes I can. Because that’s supposed to be my fucking job.

“Jett! Please,” Collins must have finally come out of her state because I see her hand reach around, gripping his bicep and pulling at him to get him to face her. He shoots me one last death glare before turning his attention to her.

The movement of his body brings her small frame into view. Her soft, husky voice speaks with a calm that I’m not sure I’m capable of, especially right now. “I know him, it’s okay.”

“Yeah? The whole world knows who he is, sweetheart.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“No, Jett. I mean, I know him. We…” she glances at me, her cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink. “We grew up together. He’s like a, uh, brother…” she nearly whispers the last part.

Yeah… Brother is not exactly how I would describe myself, especially with the semi I’m still sporting after the way she danced for me and ground her lithe little body down on my cock earlier. But I keep my mouth shut because what else would I say? Yeah, man. She was like a sister that I helped raise with my best friend who is her older brother, but now that she’s all grown up, she’s been the subject of all my dirtiest, most depraved fantasies for the last two years.

Yeah, no. This is not a sharing circle of friendship, so Jett can fuck right off.

Jett’s head swivels back and forth, his intense stare full of disbelief as he volleys between Collins and me like we’re full of shit. I’m sick of seeing his head bobble, so I give him a nod to confirm what she said and with an exasperated sigh, he finally releases me. I rub at the sore spot on my throat before stepping around Jett to get to Collins’ side again.

“Let’s go,” I say with a total calm that I don’t feel, wrapping an arm around her waist and steering her toward the back exit.

“Wait, what? No?—”

“What did I just tell you, fucker? Where in the fuck you think you’re going?”

She and Jett say over each other at the same time.

Before I can answer either of them, a loud, pained groan comes from the room we just left down the hall. Jett turns his eyes to me with one large, bold, scarred brow lifted in question. “Was that… Tank? What the fuck happened to him?”

“He slipped.” I shrug. I can tell from the look on his face that he doesn’t believe me but he just shakes his head, trying his damndest to hide a grin. Okay, so maybe he’s team Tank-Is-A-Dick . Still won’t earn him points for me liking him. He’s too close to Collins and I don’t like that. But I bury the petty feeling and sweep it all under the metaphorical rug before I speak again. “I need to get Co— Stardust , out of here. Right the fuck now. She doesn’t belong here.”

“Uh, excuse me,” her voice hardens and she lifts her cute little chin to me, her pretty face set in defiance. “ Collins is right here and she’s not going anywhere.”

“The fuck you aren’t.” I growl back at her, my face now inches from hers .

“I’ve made it on my own this far, Creed. I don’t care what my situation is like, I don’t need you or any goddamned person barging in, manhandling me, and trying to make decisions for me. I can take care of myself, just like I have since I was twelve years old.”

I flinch at her words because, fuck , they sting. It’s also a fucking stupid logic, but I won’t argue with a woman in the wrong who insists that she’s right. I mean, I understand what she’s trying— and failing —to convince me. I also don’t care what her argument is. If what the fucker that runs this place said is true, that Collins has been violated in any way, shape, or form, not only is he a dead man, but I’ll drag her out of here kicking and screaming if I have to. Her fucked sense of pride won’t stop me from finally getting to help get her out of this toxic situation.

A jumbled string of curses and crashing sounds comes from the private room again and Jett curses under his breath. “We don’t have time for this petty argument shit.” He swipes a hand over his face and takes a step toward Collins but I block him from getting any closer. He looks at me and rolls his eyes before turning his attention to Collins.

“Star, I told you that I’d do my best to look after you, but if you’ve got someone on your side, someone giving you a chance to get the fuck out of this club, take the damned thing. Don’t spend your nights trapped in this place just because of pride. And don’t stay out of some fucked up debt that Tanks thinks you owe to him because corrupted men got their feelings hurt and laid out on their asses by a five-foot-nothing woman . ”

She opens her mouth to argue but he holds a hand up to her, stopping her as he continues. “You are too goddamned young to resign yourself to working in a shitty establishment like this. You need to get out of here.”

“So why are you here, then?” I can’t help but question, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Because of the girls.” He says, resigned. “Girls like her.” He nods towards Collins and she looks down, suddenly finding the floor fascinating as fuck. But then he turns back to me, and the look in his eyes is haunted as he speaks. “I’m just one person, and I know I can’t protect them from everything at all times, but it doesn’t stop me from trying.” He reaches around me and places one of his massive hands on her bicep and she meets his gaze, speaking directly to her. I grit my teeth at his bold move to touch her, but I rein it in. Barely. “You really are fucking talented when you do your aerial sets, and you deserve an audience that cares more about your performance than the time they’ll get to steal from you after.” He gives me a pointed look that would make a lesser man piss himself.

Collins nods and bites her lip before offering him a small, appreciative smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. He starts backing down the hallway when Tank’s curses start getting louder. He points a massive finger between the two of us as he walks backwards, “Figure your shit out quick and get the hell out of here. I’ll take care of Tank.” Before he disappears around the corner, his dark eyes remain on Collins when he speaks one last time. “I mean this with all sincerity when I say I hope I never see you again, Star.”

I turn to Collins to see tears welling in her eyes. They never fall as she turns to me and the expression on her face turns stony, her eyes fiery and ready for a fight. It’s cute. She’s like an angry kitten.

I know she’s pissed that I’m all but dragging her out of here like a caveman and won’t really see reason right now, so I try like hell to soften my tone, placating her. “You can be angry, or pissed, or any goddamned emotion you want to be with me because fuck knows I deserve it. But please, please come with me. Let me get you out of here. Please,” I plead again, reaching out and taking her small hand in mine. “ Let. Me. ”

It sounds like I’m asking for permission, but I’m not. I’m dragging her out of here either willingly or thrown over my shoulder.

Her expression softens at my words and her shoulders slump in defeat. She’s quiet for half a second before she nods in agreement. “Okay. Just… Can you take me home? Please.”

Not a snowball’s chance in hell. “Okay. ”

We’re almost to the back door before she takes a random left and disappears behind a curtain. “Collins,” I whisper-shout, peeking through to find out where the hell she went but I don’t see her. “The fuck?”

I’m about to rip the damn curtain from the wall and drag her ass back out myself but she reappears a moment later with a ratty old backpack that I recognize as one of Asher’s from high school. “Ready. I’ll give you the address in the car.”

I nod, knowing I’m about to royally piss her off. “Ri is waiting for us out back. Come on.” I hold my hand out to her but she walks past me with an exasperated huff. She’s still wrapped in a robe and still wearing that bright red wig and her face is now smudged face paint, but she’s ditched the heels and is now wearing worn out black chucks.

Another loud bang sounds around the corner from the hall, followed by a very pissed off Tank. “Where the fuck is she, Jett? I’m not finished with her! She owes me!” his voice booms and this time I don’t care if it makes her hate me, I grab Collins by her waist, and spin her before hoisting her up over my shoulder in one swift move.

An oomph is forced from her lips as she lands. “What the fuck, Creed?!” she shrieks the best she can with her raspy voice.

“Shhh,” I silence her with a swift smack on her ass, which was a mistake because in my haste to get out of here, the last thing I need is to be turned on by the feel of her tight, toned flesh beneath my palm. “I’m not letting that fucker get ahold of you so I suggest you shut the fuck up… at least until we get in the car. Tear me a new asshole in there for all I care. But I’m getting you the fuck out of here.”

All the fight leaves her in one dramatized sigh and her whole body relaxes the second I step out the back exit and the big metal door clicks shut behind us. I hurry down the alley where I see Riley waiting perched on the side of my car. Even in the dark, I see his dark eyes widen in confusion, his brows furrowing in question as he pushes himself off the passenger door. I give a small shake of my head that says not now, and he nods before silently opening the door for me.

I lower Collins down and try to ignore the feel of her body sliding against mine as I right her back on the pavement, gripping her arms as she sways slightly after being upside down for a minute. When her eyes focus again, her jade green eyes are immediately firing daggers at me before she notices Riley standing behind the open door of my car.

She looks back to me and opens her mouth to say something but there’s more shouting to be heard coming from beyond the exit door so I clamp my palm over her mouth to stop whatever she was going to say. “Talk later. Car, now.”

She rolls her eyes before her tongue darts out, licking the entire broadside of my palm to get me to let her go. She squeezes into the backseat of the car with a grunt and I’m standing there momentarily shocked, staring at my wet hand.

“Did she just…?”

“She did.” Looks like the little kitten is more like a hellcat. “Let’s go. I’ll explain later.” I say, playfully patting his cheek with the same wet hand Collins dragged her sinful little tongue over.

I jog over to the driver side and slide in before peeling out onto the highway, my adrenaline spiking and blood roaring in my ears as memories of the shit that Tank fucker said boil back to the surface. I faintly register that Collins is trying to say something to me but I nod without really hearing her and continue to head back in the direction of our home, ignoring her now yelling at me from the back seat and Riley’s questioning stares. Without even looking at him I can feel the nervous energy radiating off of him in potent waves.

I can’t do anything about Collins right now, but I reach across the console and give Riley’s forearm a reassuring squeeze that helps him to ease his tense muscles a little before turning my attention back to the highway.

I promised him answers.

I promised her safety.

They’ll get both…as soon as I get home.