3. Chapter 2
Nova
The first guy that’s flagged my poor, lonely libido in far too long is connected to the man I want to kill.
Isn’t that just my luck?
The rage I feel isn’t new, but the disappointment is.
I’ve been on this path for over a year now, and I’ve never ever looked at the pieces of shit at Bella’s as anything other than pieces of the puzzle.
I know they are all connected to Oscar Cano in some way, so that does a good job of making sure I keep on task.
But this one? The man with the overgrown blond beard? I was hopeful he was an anomaly.
This is why I have vibrators. I can’t trust any man as far as I can throw him.
The only one I could trust is the sole reason I’m here. My twin brother, Charlie. His life took a detour at the hands of Cano, and my life as I knew it stopped in its tracks. Now Charlie’s dead, and the only thing I have left in my soul is hatred. And revenge.
It was stupid to think I would get any reprieve from it all in the name of good sex. It probably wouldn’t have even been good, honestly.
“Nova! Visitor!” one of the bouncers calls out.
I named that one Thing 1. The concept of visitors back in our dressing room isn’t out of the norm, but for me specifically, it is.
I don’t see men off the stage. I don’t do more for more money.
Thing 1 and 2 know this, so I’m not entirely sure why they don’t just tell this asshole to fuck off.
“I don’t do that,” I yell back, not in a hurry to answer the call.
The T-shirt dress hanging in my locker is as easy as it is boxy.
It’s a deterrent when I leave here, telling anyone who crosses my path that I’m not open for business.
There are plenty of women here at Bella’s who are, and more power to them, but I’m not one of them.
My “debt” is bullshit. It’s incredible what drug kingpins let slide when they think it’ll bring more money into their pockets.
No one questioned why I just showed up one day saying I needed to pay off debt.
They saw dollar signs and never actually checked to see if it was real.
I played them like fools, and I’m hoping to do so again when I get in the presence of Oscar Cano, so I can finally get revenge for Charlie and take a deep breath.
Peace. I’m hoping for peace … finally.
“Nova! Now!” Thing 2 yells so loudly I’m sure you can hear him from the stage.
“Jesus,” I mutter. “Coming.”
I’m scrolling on my phone as I walk over to the door, hoping the disinterest is clear as day.
A throat clears. “Nova.” The voice is smooth and deep, sending shivers down my spine.
The glance up freezes me in place. It’s him. The blond hottie who was talking to Cano.
“Can I help you?” I infuse as much snark and annoyance as I can into my voice.
“Actually, yes. Would you mind talking with me in the back? I don’t want to intrude in the dressing room.” He nods to the women behind me, who are changing and have zero concept of shame anymore.
Huh. I can’t remember the last time anyone gave a shit about these women. We are merchandise, things that do as we’re told. We don’t get the option to have boundaries here, although I try like hell to keep mine.
Instead of replying, I slide past him, brushing up against the loose, flowy short-sleeve button-up. The fabric feels expensive, luxurious.
I hear him suck in a deep breath, which forces me to hide my smile. Good, he’s affected by me. That will make things all the easier.
The sounds of his boots hitting the floor let me know he’s following me. I find the quietest spot in the entire building outside of Cano’s office and lean against the wall.
He stops in front of me, shoving his hands into his jeans that mold to his muscular thighs.
Damn, I bet his ass is phenomenal. Nope. I will not think of him like that. He’s the enemy.
My eyebrow arches as I wait for him to tell me why he needed to speak with me. I’m also ready if he decides to push and force himself on me. A swift knee to the balls does wonders for overeager assholes.
His hand swipes through the curls on the top of his head. The sides of his hair are shorter, but the curly locks on top crush against his forehead. It almost gives him a surfer vibe.
“I, umm, saw you on stage. I’m not entirely sure why, but I wanted to come and talk with you.” His eyes finally meet mine, and the shock of blue against his tan skin is arresting.
“Why?” Am I playing hardball? Absolutely.
I’m not going to make anything easy for this man just because I find him hot as hell.
My thoughts from when I was on stage still stand, but he may be a way close to Cano.
If I play my cards right, I could land my golden opportunity and finally be done with this hellhole.
And then what do you go back to?
I mentally shake my head clear of those thoughts. It’s easier to believe I won’t ever make it out of here than to give myself hope.
“You know, I’m not entirely sure.” He looks down the hall, almost like he’s distracted.
“That doesn’t exactly give me the warm fuzzies.”
His head snaps back to me, mischief heavy in his gaze. “What if I wanted to see if you’d go out with me?”
“Out as in a date, or out as in you pay me to fuck you and you think it’s the peak of romance?” I tilt my head in question.
“Holy shit, no.” His eyes widen to comical levels before that hand swipes through his hair again.
A nervous habit maybe. “I didn’t— Dear God, I didn’t think that’s what talking to one of the dancers would construe.
No, a real date. Like dinner or lunch. Hell, coffee even.
” He turns his head again to look down the hallway and toward Cano’s office.
Strange.
“Hmm, I don’t even know your name.”
His head snaps back so hard I swear he gets whiplash. “Chris. Chris Roth.” His hand shoots out in front of him.
I eye it like it’ll bite me. He drops it almost immediately and waits me out.
“Well, I’d love to say yes, but it’s going to be a no from me. It was … decent to meet you, Chris.” I spin on my heel and head back to the dressing room at the same time Nico comes through the back door.
Whatever. Not my monkey, not my circus. I only have the capacity for one thing, and telling a guy that’s not where he belongs is not it.
“You ready, asshole?” Nico asks.
Chris’s demeanor stiffens immediately. He looks at me like he wants to say more but follows Nico out the back instead.
I don’t see Chris the rest of my shift. I do, however, see him in my imagination when I get home and have the best orgasm I’ve had in quite a while.