Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
Cam eyed the group of men who sat at the edge of the stage.
A bachelor party was the last thing he wanted to deal with this evening, but the group was already there and half drunk when he arrived for work.
They’d spent a huge amount of money on booze and boobs and were now fully drunk and getting louder.
One man wore a sash, declaring himself to be the groom.
“I gadda see ash many tits ash I can tonide. I’m gettin’ married tomorrow, an’ I can only see one set for the rest of mah life!”
Ellie complied by giving the man a special shimmy, and he stared at the jiggling double Ds as if he’d never seen boobs before. Cam wondered what the man’s capacity was before he got sick.
“Crazy night, yeah?”
Cam turned to see his best friend and current president of the club, Wolf, had joined him. A long streak of gray that started at his forehead bisected the man’s midnight mane. “I guess so. Just those guys over there having fun before doomsday tomorrow.”
Wolf chuckled. “Married life isn’t so bad. Quillon is happy as shit.”
“You’re not married yet.”
Wolf’s massive shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Semantics. I’m popping the question to Jazz after the house is built. The insurance finally came through, and the slab got poured last week. Winter construction is gonna be slow, but we’re pretty content for now.”
Cam clicked his teeth as he recalled the drama that happened just a few months ago with Wolf’s girlfriend.
He didn’t know all the details other than Jazz got herself in trouble with a bunch of online scammers, and they sent someone to kill her.
The would-be assassin tried to do that by fire, but Jazz escaped with her nephews, and only her house burned.
A total loss. She and Wolf were rebuilding the place as they built a new life together.
There was a showdown of sorts between the assassin, the Slaggers MC, and Wolf, but no one knew what exactly had happened. Wolf was particularly close-mouthed about it. Cam didn’t blame him.
A roar of approval pierced the air. Apparently, Ellie decided to go a step further and was shaking her generous rear just inches from the groom’s face. He stuck out his tongue as if lapping at the dancer’s ass, and his friends egged him on.
Cam nodded toward the stage. “Think we need to do something about that?”
Wolf shook his head. “Not as long as there’s no touching. If Ellie gives us the high sign, we’ll step in, but she’s milking this shit for as many tips as she can get.”
Sure enough, Ellie had a G-string full of bills, and not all of them were singles.
Cam grunted. “She’s racking up tonight, no doubt.”
“I’ll keep an eye on them,” a voice piped up behind them.
Cam turned to see the newest member of the club. A pair of large, rounded eyes stared up at him from behind thick glasses.
“Yo, Specs.”
Specs, as he’d been dubbed, wasn’t tall or buff.
He was average in appearance and utterly forgettable other than his Coke-bottle glasses, but he had wicked accounting skills and a killer restored Kawasaki Z1 900.
His attention to detail and love of spreadsheets got him into the business, and the beautiful bike got him into the club.
Wolf nodded at the short man. “I think it’s under control, but stay vigilant. Let me know if Ellie heads over to the hotel, yeah?”
“Roger Dodger!” Specs saluted and darted off toward the bachelor party.
Wolf laughed at the guy, then stiffened up. “Incoming. Check the front door.”
Cam glanced over and saw the commotion building. Shit! The cute blonde was back and sounded determined as ever to get Scrap’s attention.
He hurried over to the door, where Crossman was having trouble containing the woman.
He noted that her hair was long and lushly gold with a little wave in it.
Very different from the twin braids she wore the first time he saw her.
Before he could get there, she’d already pushed her way past Crossman with a determined stride for the table where Scrap usually sat.
Cam blocked her halfway through the room. “He’s not here tonight, baby.”
If looks could kill, her glare would have incinerated him on the spot. “I’m not ‘baby.’ My name is Sabrina, and I want to see that old goat ASAP.”
She moved to go around him, and he blocked her again. “I get it, Sabrina. But again, he’s not here.”
“Where is he?”
“I have no clue. I don’t run his schedule. All’s I can tell you is he’s not here.”
“You’ve said that three times.”
“I’ll say it three more if I have to.”
Her eyes blazed with icy blue fire, her shoulders set back with defiance. “I’m not leaving this city until I get some answers.”
There was an undertone in her voice that Cam recognized.
She was putting up a good front, but somewhere in there, she was in pain.
It couldn’t have been easy, losing one father, finding out you might have another one, and then traveling such a long distance only to be stymied.
His instincts told him there was more to this story.
He could relate to that and wanted to find out more, but at the moment, he needed to focus on keeping peace in the club.
He held up his hands, palms out. “Listen, I get it. I wish he would take the test and get this settled. But until he gets his head out of his ass, I’m afraid he’s gonna dig in.”
Her full lips pressed together in irritation. Cam barely held back his laugh, as her face mirrored the stubborn expression Scrap often wore. It wouldn’t be a surprise at all to find out they were blood relatives.
“Look, I’ll do what I can, yeah?” he told her.
Her mouth relaxed. “I’m not gonna stop coming here to look for him.”
“I don’t expect you to.”
She didn’t speak for a few moments, but she didn’t drop her direct stare into his eyes either.
Cam’s body warmed as he became more aware of her.
The firm stance showed off her hourglass figure.
Her leather riding jacket covered a simple tunic top that clung to her body, enveloping curves that would make a man weep in gratitude.
The V-neck was modest by most standards, with just a hint of cleavage—but enough to make Cam look away so he wouldn’t get caught staring.
Tight jeans and black boots completed the ensemble. She was a vision from head to toe.
Fuck, Cam thought. The last thing you need is to be lusting after the ex-prez’s daughter.
Yeah, he might as well admit it. He already believed she was Scrap’s kid. A DNA test would simply confirm it.
“Yo, we got some new talent up in here!” A drunk-as-hell man stumbled up and shoved Cam out of the way to stand in front of Sabrina. “Whassup, baby? Yous auditioning tonight? I gots some money.”
Leering at her, he took a handful of bills and stuffed them down her shirt.
“Motherfuc—” Cam tried to stop him, but he was too late.
“You son of a bitch!” Sabrina let loose on the man with a powerful right hook. The drunk went down.
Hard.
It only took a split second before the place exploded.
“What the fuck?”
“Did a stripper just knock out Linus?”
“Hey, you can’t do that!”
Shit!
Cam grabbed Sabrina by the arm and forced her to the door. He hated manhandling a woman, but if he didn’t get her away from the crowd, things could escalate into something no one wanted or needed. She seemed to get it and didn’t fight him as he hurried her out of the building.
He didn’t stop until they got to the closed shoe repair shop a few doors down. He pulled them into the recessed doorway between two display windows to hide from anyone on the street.
“You okay?” His breath fogged in the air as he spoke.
Sabrina didn’t answer. She pressed her back against the wide glass and hugged herself.
“What the hell were you thinking, punching a man twice your size? You shoulda let me handle his ass.”
She stayed silent and compact.
Cam’s ire melted. “Look, seriously, are you okay?”
She raised her head and met his concerned gaze. Whatever shadows she had in her eyes disappeared as shutters dropped over them. “I’m just fine. It ain’t the first time I’ve had to fight off an asshole. Ain’t gonna be the last.”
Her words bothered him. A lot. But he couldn’t process that at the moment.
Later, he might ponder it, but for now, he needed to get her somewhere safer than here.
“Look, Sabrina, it’s a strip club. Guys come here to drink and look at naked women.
Yeah, things get out of hand sometimes, but we take care of it.
Our ladies get spooked by someone, we make sure they’re safe. ”
Her fire returned, and her chin came up. “I ain’t one of your ladies.”
“You’re Scrap’s daughter. That makes you one of us.”
He’d said it before he could stop himself, and he couldn’t take it back.
Sabrina jolted, and for the first time since he met her, it seemed she had nothing to say. She deflated before his eyes as whatever fight she’d mustered up left her.
Cam swore under his breath. “I’m sorry. I should have waited until Scrap gets tested, but I can’t see it any other way.” He finally recognized her nonresponse and grew alarmed. “Hey, are you okay?”
She rallied. “Yeah. It’s just the first time I’ve been called someone else’s daughter besides Ernie. He was my dad, but possibly not my father.” She gave a little shake of her head. “It’s really fucked up and confusing as hell.”
“I’ll bet.” He paused, and the silence of the street surrounded them.
The shoe repair place had a security light, but it was still too dim for him to make out her features.
It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see her expression, though; he’d had similar experiences, and it wasn’t a stretch for him to figure out her headspace.
“Listen, Sabrina. We can’t fix this tonight, but I’ll help you as much as I can, yeah? ”
She took a sharp breath through her nose and blew it slowly out of her mouth. Cam’s eyes landed on the shadow of her pursed lips, and for a moment, he wondered what they tasted like.
A burst of noise distracted him, and he peeked around the corner. Sure enough, a limo had pulled up outside the bar, and the bachelor party was loading into the back. They had to carry the groom on their shoulders like pallbearers with a casket.
Cam raised a brow. “Huh. I wonder how the bride will feel tomorrow when he shows up hungover as hell.”
“I hope she kicks his ass to the curb.”
There was such bitterness in her voice that he jerked his attention back to her. His lower spine locked up at the sudden movement, the muscle twisting viciously, sending a wave of pain down his leg. He couldn’t move.
“Son of a bitch!” he gritted out and placed a hand on the window just above her shoulder to keep from falling into her.
“You fuc—what’s wrong?” Her angry voice did a complete one-eighty when she realized he was in pain, not trying to cop a feel.
“Back. Cramp.” His voice was tight, as he had trouble getting air into his lungs.
“Hang on.” She maneuvered herself behind him. “Put both hands up and lean forward. Don’t freak out either.”
He felt her hands slip under his shirt and touch the skin just above his hip.
“Damn, that’s a bad one. Hold still.” She dug her thumb into the area, nearly sending him through the top of the alcove.
“Fuck!” he roared as more pain hit his side and leg, burning up and down his nerves like a flash fire.
“Yeah, I know. Just bear with me a few seconds. Breathe.”
He sucked in a huge lungful of air and blew it out. Then did it again. And again.
On the fifth or sixth round, the pain began to release.
He inhaled deeper and grew lightheaded as he relaxed, resting his forehead against the cold glass.
Each breath coated the surface with a blast of steam.
He almost forgot about the woman behind him, until he felt her hands move under his shirt, tracing either side of his spine and stroking over his skin.
Her fingers trailed upward over his back to his shoulders, and she lightly pressed and squeezed.
The touch held an intimacy he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and he froze, not knowing what to say or do next.
What the hell is she doing?
“You’re really crunchy back here. I bet you’ve been hurtin’ for a while.”
Crunchy?
“Yeah, my back is pretty messed up,” he ground out as she spread her hands around his sides.
“I can help you with that.”
Fuck! I’m getting a boner. “I got… pills.”
Her laugh showed her amusement. He bet she knew what was going on with him.
“I’m a massage therapist. Not the pretty spa kind either, although I’ve done that kind of stuff before.
I can work on you once for helping me out tonight.
If you want, you can come see me for regular appointments while I’m in town.
I’m supposed to check out a gig tomorrow morning at a place called Sunstone Healing. ”
Massage therapist? He hadn’t really thought about that as a possibility. Though visions of him naked while she rubbed his back were not helping his current condition. “I’ve seen the place. It’s not far from here. I’ll think about it.”
Her hands retreated, and he almost sighed in relief. “Suit yourself, but let me tell you, medical massage is different and targeted. I do a lot of myofascial release, which is just what you need. I’ve been to school, passed my boards and all that happiness. I’m good at what I do.”
He waited a minute more to be safe before turning to face her. No way did he want her to see his jeans bulging at the zipper. “I’ve never had a massage before, so I can’t compare it to anything.”
A sassy smile broke across her face. “A massage virgin, eh? Oooh, the things I can do for you!”
Shit, stop it! He put his hands in his pockets to make some room in the front of his pants. “I said I’d think about it.”
She raised a brow and reached for her own back pocket.
“Hopefully, I’ll have a space tomorrow and can start building a schedule, but I’ll make time for you whenever you need.
” She handed him a business card. “This is my old card, but it has my cell number on it. Call me anytime you want me to work on you.”
Those words echoed in his head. He stared at the offered rectangle, thinking if he reached out his hand, it would change the course of his life.
It felt close to a commitment, not just an hour on a massage table.
To what extent, he didn’t know yet, but once that card was in his hand, there was no going back.
He lifted his arm and took it without comment. If sparks could flare from the tiny card, he would have been burned.
She turned and smarted off over her shoulder as she walked to her parked bike. “Check with me sometime next week. You give me an hour, and I’ll make you a new man.”
He watched her rounded rear sway down the street.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?