Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
AUSTIN
Stay here, my ass.
I do no such thing.
As soon as he’s out of the room and down the hallway, I open the door. Turning my head from left to right, I search for him. When I don’t see him anywhere, I decide this is my opportunity to run. And that is what I do. I hurry to the dressing room, grab my shit, and I’m gone.
Like gone gone.
It doesn’t take me long to drive home, but when I pull my car into my parking spot, I sit there, staring at the building. How can I go inside? I have made nothing tonight. I’m already on the verge of losing everything, and one night without making any money is devastating.
Closing my eyes, I let out a heavy sigh. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I release it and reach for my purse. Gathering my things, I open the door and shift my legs over the side. Slowly, I stand to my feet and close my door before I make my way toward my apartment.
Slipping inside of my place, I don’t even bother turning the light on. Locking my front door, I move through the living room and head straight for the bedroom. Flipping on the light, I strip out of my dancing clothes and head toward the bathroom to shower the wasted oil from my body.
And to silently panic along in my shower.
Letting the hot water wash over my body, I close my eyes and let out a sigh.
I don’t know if I can go back to work again.
I think that I’m going to have to find another club or something.
If I even have a job left, I’m not sure that I can be around that man day in and day out if he’s going to be a permanent fixture.
He’s way too damn sexy.
Pulling on a pair of pajama shorts, I slide on a matching tank top and take myself to bed. I don’t bother turning the television on tonight. I’m way too drained to even think about attempting to focus on something.
Closing my eyes, I roll to my side and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow. I’m not sure what the future is going to hold, but I do know that I’m going to have to answer some questions tomorrow, and I am not excited about that.
No money means more questions. And then from there, if I don’t find something, I’m completely fucking fucked. Pressing my lips together, I roll them a few times before I let out a sigh and my body drifts off to sleep.
I’m not sure when it happens, but there is a noise in my living room. It wakes me up from a dead sleep. Sitting straight up, my heart slams against my chest just as a shadow appears in front of my doorway. I open my mouth to scream, but a voice cuts me off.
“It’s me, Adam, from the club. You did not stay in that room.”
Adam.
Nice.
“I did not. And I also did not give you my address or key to my apartment,” I snap.
I know that I should be scared shitless. This stranger broke into my apartment while I was sleeping. He is standing just a few feet away from me, and he could rape me or kill me… maybe even do both if he wanted to, and there wouldn’t be much that I could do to stop him.
Except I’m not scared.
Not at all.
He laughs softly, flipping the light on. It’s too bright, then my eyes adjust, and I blink a few times at the sight of this leather-clad man. He is still standing across the room from me, his arms crossed over his chest, his chin dipped slightly, and his nose looking down at me.
“What the hell are you doing in my home?” I ask with a hiss.
My words must be funny because his lips twitch into a smirk. Then he actually has the audacity to chuckle. He unfolds his arms, and I watch as he begins to move toward me. My breath hitches before I hold it and watch.
Thankfully, he doesn’t actually take anything off or sit down on my bed, but he does stand next to it, his gaze downcast and focused on mine.
“You didn’t stay where I told you to. And then I had to go looking for you,” he snaps.
Blinking my eyes, I’m not sure what this is or what he thinks is happening here. But he needs to leave my house. I don’t even know who the hell he is. The audacity of this man is absolutely and completely outrageous.
“Because you’re a freaking stranger,” I snap. “ Why would I have stayed?”
Again, it’s like I’m on stage for comedy hour because this man just smiles down at me, almost as if he thinks I’m cute or something. This isn’t a cute situation. This is a freaking man who broke into my house. I should be calling for the police to arrest his ass.
ADAM
“Yeah, I’m a stranger, but not for long.”
Her eyes widen, she presses her lips together, and I watch as her nostrils flare. My cock twitches at the sight. Sinking my teeth into the corner of my bottom lip, I hold out my hand for her. I want to fuck her right now, but I can tell that an advance would not be well received yet.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her eyes flicking to my hand before they shift back up to meet mine.
“We’re going to have a conversation, Austin.”
“How did you know my name?” she demands.
I almost laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because it’s so fucking cute that she thinks I would figure out her address but not her name?
All I had to do was ask one of the dancers, and they were more than happy to tell me her name. I’m pretty sure they would have been more than happy to give me whatever I wanted. But I didn’t want anything but her name—Austin.
Then, I went to Bugsy’s office and found her file—again, not difficult. Once I had her information, I did a little searching on my own. This woman isn’t a stripper. She’s only playing a stripper. She’s only been working at the club for a few months.
What she is is a ballerina. But a broke one. Completely fucking broke, which is why she turned to stripping. I still don’t know the circumstances or how she became practically destitute, but I’m going to find out.
She only deposits a fraction of what she’s making a night, and I want to know where the fuck her money is going and why she’s being forced to strip. I can tell by her actions and her demeanor for just the short time she was up on that stage that she’s not doing it for fun.
She’s dancing because she needs to—not because she wants to.
“I asked around,” I murmur.
She looks down at my hand again, then shifts her gaze to meet mine. This time, she lifts her arm, and I feel her fingers in my palm before she begins to slide out of the bed. Moving toward the living room, I guide her over to the sofa.
Austin sinks down on the edge of the cushion, her eyes meeting mine as she watches me. I don’t take a seat next to her. In fact, I sit on the edge of the coffee table across from her, placing my forearms on my thighs.
“Tell me why you’re dancing,” I demand, although I try to keep my voice soft and my tone nondemanding. I doubt it works because she looks away immediately.
Instead of pushing her, I watch her and wait. She will answer me. Whatever she’s got going on inside of her head, she will tell me what it is. I’ve never wanted to know anything more in my whole life.
When she slowly brings her gaze back to meet mine, her eyes focus on my own before she speaks.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.”
She inhales a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then lets it out slowly.
“I cosigned on a loan for my mother. I knew that I shouldn’t have, but she guilted me into it.
I did it, but she bailed, and now I have to pay this back.
I wasn’t making enough money at the company to pay that back, including my bills. ”