Chapter One #2
Roxy is waiting with an outfit in her clutches. “Holy shit, Rem, where did you learn to dance like that?”
I force another smile. “I loved to dance when I was a kid.”
“Well, you should’ve taken it up professionally, you’d have aced it.” She hooks her arm in mine. “Let’s go grab a drink at the bar and wait for their decision.”
“You never said that biker worked here.”
She frowns. “Biker?”
“Yeah, from earlier. He was in the booth watching.”
She shrugs. “The place has changed hands recently. I haven’t met the new owner.”
I slip onto the stool beside her as she waves to get the barman’s attention. He slides up to us with ease. “You’re looking gorgeous, Roxy, as always. What can I get you?”
“I’ll take a whiskey, neat, and Remi will have––” She looks to me.
“Just water, please.”
Minutes later, I’m about to take a sip of my drink when I feel the heat of his body behind me.
The biker. It causes prickles across my skin, and I almost smile before turning my body to face him and resting my elbows back on the bar.
His eyes don’t move from mine, even though I’m pushing my chest out just for his attention.
He doesn’t speak at first. Just stands there, tall, broad, confident, while his gaze pins me like a blade to a wall.
I tip my head and arch a brow. “Something you want, Grumpzilla?”
His jaw ticks. “Name’s Logan.”
“Oh, so we’re on a first name basis now.” I lean in a little. “Remi.”
“I know.” His voice is low. I can feel it in my spine.
Roxy slides her whiskey off the bar like she suddenly remembers she left the oven on somewhere. “I’m gonna go check the board, see what time I’m on tonight.”
Logan steps in closer as she disappears, one hand braced against the bar beside my waist. He doesn’t touch me, but he doesn’t need to. His presence is a touch all on its own––rough, unforgiving, suffocatingly intense.
“You shouldn’t have auditioned in that.”
I blink. “I wasn’t aware there was a dress code.”
“You weren’t prepared.”
I smile sweetly, my eyes full of defiance. “Didn’t look like the other guy minded.”
“He’s not the one who’d have to pull some drunk arsehole off you when he thinks that outfit’s an invitation.”
“Is that your job?”
“No, because we won’t be hiring you.”
I frown at his words. “But if you hired me, it would be your job?” He turns like he’s about to walk away, and I hop off the stool. “Hold on, I didn’t get the job?” He strides back in the direction of the stage, and I chase after him. “I’m talking to you.”
“Go home, Remi.” The way he says my name so effortlessly makes my stomach flip.
I lift my chin, forcing the mask back on. “You always this charming?”
“I’m not charming,” he says, like it’s a warning.
“No shit. I was being sarcastic.”
He sits in his seat beside the other biker, who glances back and forth between us. “Everything okay?” he asks.
My eyes lock on Logan, and we stare each other down.
I’m not sure who’s winning, but it’s the first time I’ve ever challenged anyone this big and scary without folding.
Something about him makes me feel safe. Like I know without a doubt he wouldn’t hurt me.
My frown deepens, and I drag my eyes from him to stare at the other guy.
“You’re not hiring me?”
He looks just as confused as me, so he looks to Logan. “We’re not?” he asks.
“No.” Logan’s tone is final, and the other guy shrugs.
“And here I was thinking I was in charge,” he mutters sarcastically.
“If you’re in charge, it’s not up to him,” I state, moving in front of his chair instead. “I really need this job.”
The guy shrugs. “So does every other woman who danced tonight,” he says.
“I can also do bar work,” I rush to add. “And clean. I’m good at everything.”
“The answer is no,” Logan repeats.
“Come on, brother, hear her out,” says the guy.
“Brother?” I repeat, wide-eyed. “This arse is your brother? You poor thing.”
The man laughs, deep and throaty, and then he offers me his hand. “The name’s Axel.”
I take it, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Remi.”
“So, Remi, tell me why you need this job over all the others.”
“Pres, you’re not considering this,” Logan demands.
“Relax, Shadow, we can at least give her a chance.”
I find myself looking back at him. “Shadow?” I repeat thoughtfully.
I briefly close my eyes, forcing away the childhood memory the word conjures up.
I take a breath. “I’m sleeping on one of your dancer’s couches.
Her flat is tiny, and she’s been more than kind, but I need to find a place before she gets tired of me.
I have nowhere to go, no food to eat, and literally only the clothes on my back.
” I glance down at my underwear and laugh.
“Not this, obviously. I have clothes, but just the one outfit.”
“Why?” Axel asks.
“I’m running,” I admit, quieter this time.
Shadow stands abruptly. “We’re not here to save you,” he snaps, and even Axel looks confused. “You’re not right for the role.” And he stomps off, leaving me alone with Axel.
I swallow the lump in my throat. I was beginning to think this was all a sign, but as usual, it’s a massive let-down.
“How long you been running?” Axel asks.
I force a smile. “A long time.”
“And if I get you a job, how do I know you won’t do a midnight flit and leave me in the shit?”
I shake my head. “I’d never just leave. I’m not that kind of person.”
He gives a stiff nod. “Okay. Come by this place tomorrow, and I’ll see what I can do.” He slides a business card my way, and I take it.
“So, you’re not giving me the dancing job?”
He shakes his head with a smirk on his face. “Nah, see, if I let you get up there half-naked, Shadow might end up in prison . . . again.”