Chapter 7
JADE
I haven’t seen Enzo for a couple of days since the incident with Roman. Did he decide that was too much? Will I never see him again? The thought wedges through my heart with a sharp spasm. He’s the only good thing that’s come into my life recently. I can’t lose him now.
I walk into my dressing room at the club. Paulina and Sienna are already there, preparing for their dances, fixing up their hair beside each other.
Sitting on an unoccupied chair in front of a mirror, I stare at the girl staring back at me, not liking who I see. I know I shouldn’t allow these men to make me feel that way, but it’s not something I can control. I hate myself. I hate what they’ve done to me. What they’ve turned me into.
The girls begin to whisper with each other, causing me to wander their way, finding their hushed voices and wide eyes darting behind me.
What the hell are they looking at? Did I grow wings or something? Hell, that’d be nice. Maybe I could find my son and fly us out of here.
I’m sure Paulina is talking shit about me as always. It’s what she does best. I shake my head with exasperation, and as I do, a strong yet gentle hand lands on my arm, brushing up to my shoulder like a feather.
My breaths hitch, my mouth parting inadvertently, warmth spilling down my arms. I don’t have to look behind to know whose touch that is. The one I missed desperately, even though it took me feeling it again to realize just how much I actually did.
“Enzo?” I whisper his name with bated breath, like I’m afraid he’ll vanish if I say it any louder.
“It’s me, baby.” Those words cruise with a sultry husk, his palm on the back of my neck, fingers dipping into me as he tilts my head to him with a firm grasp.
“Miss me?” His lopsided smirk wraps me up in warm intoxication, lustful desire filling into every hollowed space.
“Like you have no idea.” The confession feels bitter on my tongue.
I don’t deserve him or his kindness, yet I can’t seem to push him away either.
If I do, it’ll only hurt me more, and I can’t handle another dagger to my heart.
I can be careful. I won’t let Faro or his men know that Enzo is not simply a customer.
“Is that your boyfriend or something?” Paulina asks with too much curiosity.
Shit.
“Mind your damn business.” Sienna lightly swats her on the arm.
“I’m just asking. Geez.” She flips her shoulder-length brown hair back with her long fingernails, rolling her eyes a bit too dramatically.
Enzo releases his grip on me, and I can tell he senses my shift in demeanor from the thoughtful expression he wears as he looks at me. He knows what Paulina is trying to do. He’s not stupid.
I turn my attention to the girls. “He’s not my—”
Enzo bends his mouth to my ear. “Let me handle this.”
He’s moving toward the two women as they eye him like their favorite ice cream flavor.
I bite on the inside of my cheek, the center of my chest heavy, my gut tossing.
If Faro or Agnelo so much as think I have a man in my life, Robby and I are as good as dead.
Or worse, they’ll sell him to the highest bidder or make him work the club.
“Ladies.” He nods with a smirk so devilish, it’d have any woman’s panties on fire. I hope that’s enough to convince them we’re not together, which technically, we aren’t. So why do I suddenly feel this slam of jealousy from the way they look at him? “I’m Patrick. Nice to meet you.”
We never discussed why he has two names, but I have a feeling whatever the reason, it’s got danger written all over it.
There’s an air to him, both civility and madness, draped like a mask over his face. He may be gentle with me, but I’ve found the monster lurking behind the softness of his gaze.
The girls peer up at him, eyes practically falling out of their sockets.
He looks like an ad for a fashion magazine.
A long wool coat falls to his upper thigh, his hair slicked back.
As he smiles, his cheekbones appear more angled.
I’m not at all surprised by their reaction.
We don’t normally get men as hot as he is.
“As much as I’d love for Joelle to be my girlfriend, she’s not. I came back here so I can get that dance I paid for.” Picking up each of their hands, he kisses the top of it, then strolls back to me. “It was nice meeting you both, but we have to go now.”
“Bye.” Sienna practically sighs.
“Lucky bitch,” Paulina mutters under her breath, loud enough for me to hear it. She’s never liked me. I don’t know if it’s jealousy due to the amount of attention I get from customers, but she can’t stand me.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper to Enzo as we walk side by side to one of the private spaces. “How did you even get back here by yourself?”
I undrape the curtain and we enter one of the empty rooms. With my back to him, I head straight for the liquor, grabbing a bottle of vodka and pouring myself a much-needed shot to calm my nerves.
If Paulina says something… Oh God.
He lowers himself onto the sofa, leaning forward, legs spread, elbows braced on the top of his thighs. I try hard not to stare but fail miserably. His eyes flick to mine.
“The bodyguards were too busy kicking some guy out to notice me sneaking back here,” he explains, cracking a smirk. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
The way he asks, it’s as though he already knows the answer. “Of course, I am. But you don’t understand what could happen if they find out about us.”
I lift the glass to my mouth and let the burn roll into my throat, savoring the hum of heat coasting down the length of me.
“Come here,” he beckons, that deep, throaty echo increasing the pace of my heartbeats.
I pop a brow in challenge, staying exactly where I am, pouring another shot. This will definitely be the last one if I plan to dance without falling on my ass later.
He rises to his feet, his fingers falling to the buttons of his coat, undoing them one by one, before gently placing the coat down on the sofa.
As he treks closer, his eyes tangled with mine, he rolls the sleeves of his black button-down all the way to his elbows, the veins trapped within his skin on full display.
“Are you going to be mad the whole entire hour?” He’s in front of me now, the drink forgotten.
“Or could I convince you to forgive me?” His voice curls with a deep rasp, a palm enveloping the back of my neck, pulling me harshly to him, close enough for my heartbeats to echo with his.
I go willingly. I always do. Because he’s the only safety I’ve ever known.
His breathing rolls like a deep wave over my lips. The hardness of his chest, the smell of his woodsy cologne, it all causes my core to tighten, wanting something I didn’t think I’d ever be capable of.
He’s a life force to the wrecking of my soul, a trigger shooting me up with hunger—with a craving so raw that for a moment, I forget who I am.
Sex has been nothing but a job, a complication in my life that I’ve come to hate. But he’s not them, those men. Maybe that means I can be with a guy without allowing the abuse to define me. Maybe one day, he and I could be together like he said.
But that hope is doused by the sudden realization that I’ll probably never get out, that my son will be theirs. Forever.
My throat goes dry, and my breathing turns shallow. Reaching for the shot glass, I squeeze it between us, downing every drop.
He watches me drink it all, taking the glass once I’m done and placing it on the bar. His hand finds my jaw, cupping it possessively, a thumb brushing over my lips.
My brows squeeze as I relish in the tender touch of a man I’ve never known. And not just a man but Enzo.
“I’m sorry for coming to find you,” he admits in a whisper. “When I didn’t see you out there, I…” His words are lost before he finds them again. “I was afraid something happened to you. That’s the only reason I went back there.”
My pulse jumps a beat.
“You were worried about me?”
“Of course I was, baby.”
“Thank you.” Tears fight to fill my eyes, aching to show their face. No one worries about me anymore. I forgot how good it felt.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he says, low and husky. “I still have to make it up to you. And I’m damn good at that.”
“Oh, really? And how will you manage it?” A smile creeps to my mouth.
His eyes delve into mine, my insides humming with a beat of arousal from the way his gaze grips the very essence of me. I’m drowning in the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen, lost to the fall, never wanting to be found.
“I could start with this…” His mouth lowers to my lips, hovering over them, breath to breath. Like he’s drinking me in, savoring me, without actually doing it. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt. I tingle all over.
I need this kiss. I want it like I’ve never wanted anything before. My heartbeats pound in my chest, his thick fingers massaging my hip.
Make me feel it. Make me feel something again.
“Shit,” he mutters. “If I kiss you now, I won’t stop.”
Don’t stop, I want to scream. Take me. Have me. Fuck the consequences.
But I regret even thinking those thoughts. What kind of mother am I? He’s right. We can’t do this. Being alone with him under the pretense of a lie is bad enough. Anything more and they’re bound to find out. My body is their paycheck, their property. I don’t belong to myself.
“It’s fine,” I say, walking away, and he lets me go. I move toward the stripper pole at the opposite corner of the room. “It’s for the best.”
“Joelle…” There’s regret tethered there. “I’m sorry, it’s only because I—”
“Look, Enzo, Patrick, whoever you are, it doesn’t matter, okay?
” I grin, the facade like bulletproof armor.
Except it’s not. It’s fragile, no matter how strong I think it is.
“How about we just sit and talk,” I continue, clearing my throat.
“Maybe you’ll even want that dance after all?
Or maybe…” I grip my hand around the pole and swing, lifting my feet into the air. “Maybe you’ll want more.”
He moves so quickly, so expertly, I don’t even have a moment to inhale when the span of his large palm wraps around the front of my neck, his thumb pressing against my weighty pulse as his eyes hold mine like two missiles pinning me into place.
My body practically liquefies, my breathing ragged as my tongue swipes in between my lips, unable to look away.
He pushes my back into the pole with the hardness of his chest, my spine lining up against the cold metal.
My skin breaks with a shudder and it’s not from the chill to my skin. It’s him. This madness. This fury he creates within my heart. A whirlpool of emotions, and all I want is more.
His chest expands like that of a beast, his jaw flexing, ready to devour me, the lust, the need for the taste of darkness absorbing the emeralds of his eyes.
It’s as though he’s shrouded in both heaven and hell, a man split in between two worlds. In this moment, it’s easy to see both sides of him. But I’m not afraid. Neither man would harm me.
His touch, it’s filled with possession, a man torn. Wanton. It’s there in his gaze. I can practically taste how badly he wants me. I want him too. I want this. But he’s right, we can’t.
We’re souls lost to a world filled with the ashes of our future. Not meant to be. Not in this lifetime.
“Don’t act like that with me,” he warns, tightening his palm around my throat enough to make my core hum for more. “I’m not them. I’m not here for your pussy, Joelle. I thought we already established that.” He leans into my neck, his lips ghosting up my skin.
A trembling pant slips out of me, my hands on his back, nails sinking into the hardened muscles that flex beneath my touch.
“No games, Joelle.” His voice pulses with a sultry rhythm. “I don’t want who you pretend to be. I want you. The real you.”
I let my fingertips skirt up his back, rolling up into his hair.
“You can trust me, baby,” he breathes. “I’ll never hurt you.”
His lips leave a tender kiss at that spot right under my earlobe and my body breaks out with a tantalizing shiver, my nipples hardening under the thickness of my black sequin bra.
I don’t know how to respond. I can’t tell him the truth. There’s no way I could trust anyone with my secrets.
“Baby?” he calls, backing away, his thumbs now at my cheeks, wiping under my eyes.
Was I crying? God, I can’t even keep it together.
“Did I say something wrong?” he asks, his brows drawing tight, concern filling the tenderness written all over his face.
I shake my head. “No.” I lean over and kiss his knuckles. “I was just thinking stupid stuff.” A bitter laugh escapes me. “Could we sit? The hour will be up soon, and I want to spend a little time with you before you go.”
“Yeah.” He attempts a smile, but it never quite reaches his eyes.
Grabbing my hand, he gently squeezes as he leads us to the couch.
When I take a seat beside him, his arm rolls under my ass and brings me over his body, my thighs straddling his.
His fingertips cruise up and down my hips as he looks deep into my eyes, and my heart—it shatters.
I want you so badly. Every bit of me aches.
“When we’re together,” he says. “My lap is your permanent seat.”
I force a grin. The way he stares at me, it’s like his entire face brightens. It’s like I’m the only woman on earth who could ever steal his heart away. That I’m his already. That nothing matters. But it does. It all matters. And I hate it.
Why do I have to meet him when my world is in ruins? Why is the universe trying to punish me more? Haven’t I been through enough? Why dangle him right in front of me, only to take him away?
“Well, I much prefer to sit elsewhere.” I tease away the pain boring a hole in my chest.
He pops a brow as I stare down at him—all man, the masculinity and power dripping from every pore. His hand reaches for my neck, his fingers crawling up until he cradles my jaw with a commanding grip.
“Try it, Joelle.” The darkness from his tone oozes with an erotic undercurrent.
“I don’t want to,” I whisper, my heart skittering with quickened beats.
“That’s my girl.”
His girl. I almost burst into tears. It means so much to me and he doesn’t even know it.
He glides his knuckles softly down my cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”
My heart squeezes, an ache forming behind my eyes. How I wish we were normal. Two people falling for each other. But that is not our fate, and it may never be.
I palm the side of his face, wanting my hands everywhere, to discover all his hidden secrets. The ones I know he has.
We all have them.
But for some of us, they’re filled with too much obscurity, seething into the wounds we carry in silence.