Chapter One
CACHI
I’d winked at the tall cowboy and turned, heading down the hallway to the dressing area.
I was so glad to have the day off tomorrow, so I could sleep in if I wanted to.
It was very late and I was tired. Anyone who thought dancing in a cage was easy work, should try it.
Yes, it kept my body toned and the money was good, but those were the only good things I could say about it.
Keeping what I did from Mamá wasn’t ideal either.
It was bad enough that I’d let her believe I was a bartender at the club.
If she knew what I really did here, she’d be very upset.
I punched keys into the keypad when I got to the dressing room door and walked in, relieved to find that none of the other dancers were changing or putting on makeup in front of the mirror.
As much as I liked most of them, they were a catty, jealous bunch of guys who were always talking behind each other’s backs.
Some of them could be quite vicious when crossed.
I kept to myself, not interested in trying to steal the others’ boyfriends, the main reason they all talked behind each other’s backs.
I’d learned my lesson after getting a bloody nose trying to break up a catfight a few months ago.
People said women were the biggest gossips, but this nasty bunch of guys had women beat by a mile.
These days, I stayed out of their fights, ignoring their comments, and keeping my head down, doing what I was paid to do. I wasn’t here to make friends and even if the guys hadn’t been bitches, I wasn’t sure I’d want friendships with any of them.
I was there for one reason only, to put food on the table so Mamá wouldn’t have to work so hard.
I sure as hell wasn’t there to do what those three morons had suggested.
I never whored my body out. My Puerto Rican mamá would roast my nuts over the fire if she ever caught wind of that kind of bad behavior.
I plopped into a chair in front of my dressing room mirror and pulled out several wet wipes, then wiped away the worst of the oil coating my skin.
The rest would have to wait until I was able to shower at home.
I changed out of my bikini bottoms, stuffing them into my duffel with my dirty gym clothes, and pulled on jeans and a dark T-shirt before stepping into my huaraches.
I gave myself one last glance in the mirror before heading back out into the club, listening for the door click, keeping the public out.
I smiled at a couple of the bouncers, waved at the bartenders Leland and Tate, and walked out into the night air, eager to get home.
I pulled out my phone and waited for facial recognition to turn it on as I walked into the parking lot.
Three text messages. All from Mamá asking when I was coming home.
I felt myself smile for a few seconds before a loud whistle caught my attention.
I looked up and suddenly my heart began to race as I saw the three drunk, frat boys standing beside the open trunk of a red sports car only fifty feet away.
All three had beer cans in their hands—how stupid.
There was no security in the lot, but cars came and went all the time.
Signs were posted all over the place issuing serious warnings to anyone possessing alcohol on club property.
The guys and their cooler full of beer in the trunk, obviously thought those rules didn’t apply to them.
“Well, lookie here, boys. It’s the pretty boy from the club! He’s come out to party,” Terry the jerk called out. He sounded even drunker than he had when he’d harassed me inside. His two friends turned my way and laughed, making me shiver just a little when I realized they were also drunk.
“Puneta,” I swore under my breath.
I glanced around, looking for someone—anyone—who’d overheard what the drunk said, only to find the lot empty of anyone but the four of us.
Unfortunately, their sports car was parked immediately beside my old Thunderbird.
They’d parked so close that one of them was leaning against the driver’s door and my pristine, powder blue paint.
There was no way to get to my car without getting around these fools.
I immediately pivoted and started heading back to the club. If I couldn’t find a bouncer willing to walk me to my car or run them off, I’d wait until closing time. Mamá wouldn’t be happy if I rolled in later than expected, but she’d rather see me in one piece…of that I was certain.
I’d taken no more than ten steps back toward the club, when I heard running behind me.
I whirled around just in time to see Terry coming at me.
I threw up my arms to block him, intending on pushing his grasping hands away, when he launched himself at me, tackling me to the hard pavement.
I put my hands back to break my fall but as I hit the ground, sharp pain shot up my left arm as my thumb got caught.
I screamed out in pain, suddenly feeling faint from the agony as the drunken man crashed face first to the pavement right beside me.
I’d seen my father do the same thing when he’d been drinking, misjudging a step and hitting the carpet.
Unfortunately, for Terry, though, asphalt wasn’t as forgiving as carpet.
When he lifted his face, pushing himself up from the pavement with shaky hands, he was bleeding a lot, looking like he’d gone down on a motorcycle, covered in road rash with a split lip.
Worst of all, though, was the expression on his face.
He was literally vibrating with rage, wanting revenge.
I’d seen a similar expression before…the night I’d finally had enough of my father’s drunken abuse.
I’d come home from work, found my mother bleeding, and now big enough to defend her, I’d booted him out of the house.
Right now, though, I recognized similar hate on Terry’s face.
It was enough to get me moving. I pushed myself up with my good arm, quickly rolling to my knees.
“Look what you did!” he growled, staring down at the bloody palm he’d just pulled away from his bleeding cheek as he righted himself just as fast as I had.
“Leave me alone!” I cried, cursing the fear I heard in my voice as I lunged away from him, crawling to get away as he swung an arm out to grab for me, like he had in the cage.
This time he came up short as I scrambled to my feet, dropping my car keys and duffel bag as I bolted for the club entrance.
“Get him, Bobby!” Terry shouted.
I didn’t turn around as I ran for my life, knowing I wasn’t going to like what would happen to me if they caught up.
Terror filled my chest as I ran, slower than normal, cursing myself for wearing my huaraches instead of running shoes.
I ignored the stab of pain in my wrist as I headed for the club’s entrance ten feet away.
I heard the three men, swearing, pounding across the parking lot right behind me, getting closer as they charged after me.
I was twenty feet from the entrance, closing in on safety when I finally saw someone.
A tall, lean figure wearing cowboy boots suddenly came into view as he stepped outside the club while looking down at the phone in his hand.
I suddenly felt as though all the air had been punched out of my lungs as hope filled my chest.
“Rex!” I screamed. “Rex!”
The cowboy’s head snapped up and thankfully, he turned in my direction. “What the hell?” Rex ran toward me with a thunderous expression on his face. “What’s goin’ on? Cachi?”
“Grab the whore, Terry!” someone shouted from behind me.
I turned and looked over my shoulder; the men ran at top speed, closing the distance on longer legs than mine, barely thirty feet behind me. “Leave me alone!” I screamed again, feeling fear as I’d never felt before as Rex ran toward me. “Rex!”
“What’s goin’ on here?” The cowboy’s voice was filled with anger. When I was close enough, he reached for me, grabbing my arm, and swinging me back behind him as he stepped in between me and the men who were hot on my heels.
“FBI!” he shouted, holding something up to show them. They came to a stumbling halt barely ten feet from us. “Down on the ground!” Rex bellowed.
“Wha—!” Terry slurred, rearing back, looking like he was trying to focus.
“Now!” Rex stabbed at the asphalt. “Flat on your bellies!” I watched in fascination as all three bobos dropped to their knees on the pavement in front of me and then flattened themselves on the ground, belly first. They stretched out their arms to the sides and strangely enough, one of them started sobbing.
I sucked in huge lungfuls of air, only now realizing how close I’d come to being attacked by the jumeta frat boys.
My heart pounded so hard, it felt like my ribcage couldn’t contain it.
I’d never felt so grateful for a man’s perfect timing.
If Rex hadn’t walked out when he did, or been policia—federales no less, I could have ended up badly beaten, raped, or God forbid, dead.
I had no idea what these three were capable of.
“Dios mio, Rex,” I gasped, grabbing his arm with both hands only to cry out as pain shot up my arm.
“What is it? What’d they do to you, Cachi?
” Rex took hold of my shoulders, turning me to face him.
I looked up into his eyes as tears filled my own, suddenly blurring my vision.
When they spilled over and ran down my cheeks, I didn’t know whether it was from pain, fear, or the concerned look in his big, blue eyes.
“Aww, sweetheart,” he said, pulling my trembling body against his big, broad chest. I sank against him, feeling safe in his strong embrace.
When someone ran up to us, I instantly tensed in his arms. They tightened as Rex leaned down and spoke close to my ear. “It’s okay, sugar. It’s only security.”
“What’s going on here?” someone demanded.