Chapter 13
Camila
Iopt for a glittery, green bodysuit. All the girls have a signature colour.
I was forced to pick one on the spot when I first joined.
It’s like a little dancer family initiation ceremony.
And, because I’ve always looked good in green, that’s what I picked.
It’s the only colour that complements my eyes well—they really stand out—and it’s the one feature on me that I don’t hate. At least until the bags showed up.
I do my usual ritual of glueing the see-through green stockings to the scar on my thigh.
As I approach the stage screen, faintly aware of our tech guy counting me in on stage, I blow out a breath. My knees tremble slightly as his counting fades out.
When Xander left, I sat inside the car, which smelt faintly like him.
The cream interior, chrome accents, fancy touch screen on the dashboard—none of it suited me.
It’s luxury that I could never afford or even want.
But I basked in it. The first thing that made me feel a little like I was worth something.
Like maybe I’m heading in the right direction.
That all quickly faded out when I received another text.
I used a distraction. I picked out this outfit, and I planned my routine.
All in the hopes that Xander would be here.
I can have a bit of fun, right? It’s innocent fun.
The screen begins to come up, and my heart rate slows as I pull in long breaths.
There he is.
Sitting right in front of the pole at the end of the stage.
The top of his shirt is completely undone, revealing more tattoos than before.
His legs are spread wide. He pulls himself up in the rounded, leather seat when he sees me.
Placing his drink down on the small table next to him, he leans his cheek on his fisted hand, and the other arm drops in between his legs.
The vision of a well-dressed criminal.
There was a hush of rumours around the club tonight. That the warehouse that burnt down was the Warrens’.
For the first time, I don’t even hear the roar of the crowd.
All I can see—all I can focus on—is him. The dark energy that exudes from him. The way my body pulls towards him on its own accord.
Something that I can’t place keeps drawing me to him. Despite the dangerous murmurs about him. Despite his rather persistent approach.
It’s like ice and flames. Two elements that know they won’t work together—they shouldn’t—but still, they try.
Reaching the pole, I glue my gaze to his. You Put A Spell On Me plays through the speakers, just like the first night he watched me.
I lower myself to the floor and get on all fours, whipping my head around once. I sit back on my ankles and let my hands run up my thighs and torso. When they reach my head, I grab the pole from behind and use all my ab strength to pull myself up flush with it, commanding it to spin.
I slow to a steady pace and stop right in line with Xander’s vision. I split my legs apart and lower myself back down to the stage in a split. I swing my leg around and arch back into a bridge, then whip my legs forward so I’m standing again.
And he watches it all with rapt attention. Like he sees beneath the mask I’m putting on.
I grab onto the pole and back hook spin.
Dropping onto my knees, I crawl towards him—right to the edge of the stage, getting as close to him as possible.
I make sure to swing my hips out and give him a perfect view of my ass, bared by my G-string.
His hands visibly clench, causing veins to pop out on his arms, and he adjusts himself in the seat.
And it almost looks like he’s trying to keep himself glued to it.
This time, I do hear the low hum of cheering.
Xander scans every man watching my performance, looking like he might just kill anyone in this club.
A subtle grin forms on my face. The act alone shouldn’t cause heat to rush between my legs, but it does. I should be inwardly cursing myself right now for allowing my stupid brain to be fooled by this magnetic pull.
He’s no different from anyone else. He’s probably looking for a quick fuck and nothing else.
And I can't figure out why the thought of that stings more than anything.
I become too aware of Xander watching me. Too aware of what I’m doing in front of everyone.
Dirty. Used. Inappropriate.
Threats from Luke over the last week all come flooding back in, making me almost lose grip on the pole.
The song ends, making me breathe out a sigh of relief. Money flies onto the stage, and I do everything to avert my eyes from Xander.
I plaster on a fake, flirty grin and do my best sexy bow for the audience. All the while aware of Xander still sitting there, not moving a muscle. The outline of a gun in his pocket grinning at me.
That’s not happening again. I need to keep my distance from him.
I don’t know whose bright idea it was to indulge him, but it definitely wasn’t mine. And it was definitely not the guarded Camila.
Can you blame me for wanting a reprieve from my old life? For wanting to break away and fantasise about what it would be like to have that all-consuming love with someone who only has eyes on you and would never dream of hurting you?
“Fucking shit,” I choke out when I reach the dressing room.
I thank the high heavens that it’s empty at this time of night because I don’t think I can hold a single tear in any longer.
I try to ignore the burn of my eyes as I shove everything back into my gym bag, throwing a pair of joggers and a jumper over my outfit.
My phone dings.
UNKNOWN: Whore
“Fuck you,” I scream at the phone, shoving it into my bag and leaving DL.
“Vix?” Jayden stops me.
“Jay, I’m really not in the best of moods tonight.”
He grips my arm harshly, turning me around. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the other night.”
I rip myself away from him, giving him a half-smile. “It’s okay, honestly. I’m over it.”
“So, that date?” His eyes look me up and down as he bites his bottom lip.
I subtly roll my eyes. The way he’s looking at me causes me to make a choking noise in the back of my throat, my stomach swirling with nausea.
How many times does it take for a girl to say she’s not interested?
“No, Jayden,” I say, correcting my stance to stand a little taller.
The door swings open, and a couple of dancers giggle as they pass us. Jayden purses his lips and nods his head, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he walks backwards towards the door.
I turn and head straight for my car, already planning the next city I’ll be staying in.