41. Damiano
The lights are dark, and there’s a spotlight center stage.
Paige is going to walk out any minute, and I am, most likely, going to start killing people. It’s too bad. I can tolerate most of these guys. I like a few of them. It’ll be a shame to hurt them for putting their eyes on my angel. But quel che sarà, sarà. Whatever will be, will be.
Rob is sitting right next to me. Closer than a straight man should sit next to another straight man at a strip club. He’s facing me. Breathing down my neck. He wasn’t sitting this way during the last performance. I can’t tell if he’s turned toward me now to avoid looking up on stage when Paige comes out or if he’s watching for some tell that I’m about to jump out of my seat to hurt someone. Probably both.
Rob’s bigger than me—the guy’s a fucking animal working out twice most days. He’s fast too, spends hours in the boxing ring. If he gets a solid hit in, it’s lights out.
But I fight smarter. And dirty.
Who knows, maybe it won’t come to violence.
The room goes silent as Paige walks into the spotlight. Big bunny ears , one standing up, one flopped down. Red high heels and a puffy little tail sitting high on her plump ass.
That’s my fucking bunny. So goddamn pretty. So fucking gorgeous.
This will definitely come to violence.
“Alright, fam,” Salvo’s voice over the sound system. “Last tryout of the day. Little Miss Bunny, give me a nod when you’re ready.”
Paige looks straight at me and winks. She tucks her hands up next to her ear, like they’re a pillow, resting her head on them. She takes a deep breath in then nods toward the sound booth.
Piano chords start pounding, Paige moves her hips to the beat, swishing side to side.
She does a little hop. Motions like she’s pouring a cup of coffee.
What is she doing?
Big exaggerated yawn, pushing her gorgeous tits out. Now she’s. . . fake showering?
Is she acting out the song? This is the absolute furthest thing from a stage routine I’ve ever seen.
And it’s bad.
It’s awful.
It’s like a 9-year-old’s choreography.
I swear if a single guy in here laughs at her or boos, I will slit his throat. Crack Rob’s beer bottle on the seat of my chair, then use the sharp stump. Leave all weapons at the door, my ass . I am the weapon.
I force my eyes away from her to the guys sitting along the tip rail to see who’s about to say shit to her, to see who I’m hurting first.
But no.
Vinnie’s jaw is dropped.
Tommy’s leaning forward, eating her up. Mikey’s got his hand in his lap, gripping his dick.
They’re into it. They’re into her.
Into my Paige. My angel.
Fuck this.
I lean to my left, close to Eddie V. The guy wears way too much cologne, so this is going to serve two purposes. “I need you take Ronnie out.”
He’s barely paying attention to me, entirely focused on Paige. “Huh?”
“Take Ronnie the fuck out. Now.”
That got his full attention. “I can’t do that. Salvo will kill me for starting beef in the Cat.”
I don’t take my eyes off the stage. Is Paige doing some kind of YMCA arm motion? Whatever she’s doing, she’s doing with a smile that melts my fucking core.
I know Rob is watching me like a hawk, so I say this with a big smile on my face, still literally sitting on my hands while I explain Eddie’s new situation to him. “Option one, choke Ronnie the fuck out, drag him out of here, and don’t come back in. Option two, I show up at your apartment tonight and fuck you up so bad you’ll be better equipped to try out as a Cat girl than to have your dick sucked by one.”
I glance at him for a split second. He’s looking at me, confused, horror in his eyes. He’s trying to tell if I’m joking.
I’m not.
“811 Armitage, apartment 4B. You sleep on the side of the bed closest to the bathroom, Maria sleeps closer to the window.” I glance at him again, then turn back to Paige. “And you snore like a fucking freight train.”
“You’re an asshole, Dom. Fuck .” He launches himself out of his seat, wraps his arm around Mikey’s throat, pulls them both down onto the floor.
Ronnie didn’t see it coming, so he’s struggling against Eddie’s chokehold just to take a breath. The guys on either side of Ronnie reluctantly stand up, half-ass try to pull them apart, but without taking their eyes off Paige. Salvo runs over, shooting me a dirty look while kicking all of them out.
Four down. Thirty-three more to go.
I feel Rob’s glare burning into the side of my head, so I turn to him and shrug, as if I had nothing to do with that.
Paige has her hand on the pole now, bunny hopping around it in a circle. She’s lucky her top is holding up to the motion, or we’d have an even bigger problem.
Mikey is sitting in the front row, laying a stack of bills on the stage in front of him. Tipping isn’t usually a part of Tryouts, but it’s not unheard of either.
He waves a twenty-dollar bill in the air to get Paige’s attention, but she’s ignoring him. I’m pissed he’s trying to get her attention, and I’m furious that he thinks a dub would be enough for her. I should shove his stack of twenties down his throat.
“Don’t,” Rob says the second I stir in my seat.
Fine.
I pull out my phone and open my texts. I have to scroll really fucking far to find Dmitri’s number. He’s sitting on Mikey’s right. The guy used to text me all the time, wanting to get more involved in the enforcement side of the business. Doesn’t look like I answered any of his last ten texts.
Damiano
I need a favor
Instant response.
Dmitri
Name it
Mikey starts calling out “Here, bunny, bunny, bunny. Come to daddy, little bunny.” Paige looks over at him but doesn’t move toward him. In fact, she takes a step away from him. Good girl, you’ll get a reward for that. That is, after you get punished for stepping foot on that stage in the first place.
Dislocate Mikey’s jaw and you can ride with me for 2 weeks
Fuck yeah. I’d do that for you for nothing. But definitely taking that ride-along. Thanks man
Dmitri puts his phone in his pocket then leans toward Mikey and whispers something in his ear. Mikey stands up and swings at him. Dmitri dodges it and lays into Mikey twice as hard. The loud fucking crack is music to my ears, as I watch Mikey hit the ground.
“Motherfucker!” Rob jumps up out of his seat. “Fuck you, Dom.” He’s loud enough to command everyone’s attention over the music. “Everyone, get the fuck out.”
Paige freezes on the stage mid-hop, her hands held up in front of her like little bunny arms. She starts to turn toward backstage, like she’s leaving the room too.
“Not you,” Rob tells her. “You stay.”
She freezes in place.
The room empties within seconds, including Rob and Salvo. Now it’s just me and my bunny and Dolly Parton playing on loop.