Chapter Two #2
As if sensing my hesitation, Montana clapped me on the shoulder, his eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and encouragement. “Come on, Doc. You know the drill. One night, a few drinks, and a bit of fun. It’s not like you’re marrying the girl.”
I forced a smile. The weight of my residency and my carefully constructed life pressed down on me.
I knew my best friend meant well, but the idea of even a fleeting connection filled me with a sense of dread.
It wasn’t just the potential for emotional entanglement; it was the exhaustion, the mental burden of maintaining the facade I worked so hard to build.
As the night wore on, the more tired I got, when I spotted a young woman tentatively walk into the club.
She didn’t look like any Barney girl I’d ever seen; in fact, I was betting she wasn’t one.
Which begged the question: who was she and what the hell was she thinking walking into a Soulless Sinner club?
Making my way through the crowd, I walked right up to her and asked, “Can I help you?”
“I woke up late.”
“What?”
“Barney told me to be here hours ago, but I overslept. Maybe I should have stayed home. I have a test tomorrow.”
The woman’s response was like a bucket of ice water to the face. My mind, already foggy with exhaustion, struggled to process her words. “You work for Barney?” I asked, my voice sharp with surprise.
She nodded, her eyes flicking nervously around the room.
“I’m new... this is my first time.”
I felt a surge of protectiveness mixed with a strange sense of responsibility. This woman, with her nervous gaze and academic concerns, was clearly out of place in this den of vice.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I said, my voice low and urgent. “This isn’t a place for the faint of heart.”
She bit her lip, her eyes widening as she took in the raucous scene around us. “I know,” she whispered. “But I need the money. For school.”
Montana chose that moment to appear at my side, his eyes raking over the woman with undisguised appreciation. “Well, well, Doc. Looks like you’ve found yourself a little treasure. You gonna introduce us?”
I felt a surge of possessiveness, an unfamiliar instinct that caught me off guard. “She’s not one of Barney’s girls,” I said, my voice tight.
Montana’s eyebrows shot up.
“Really? Then what’s she doing here?”
The woman shifted, her eyes pleading with me to intervene.
“She’s new,” I said curtly. “And she shouldn’t be here. Not tonight. Help me get her out of here.”
Montana’s gaze flicked around the room, then he cursed. “Too late, bro. Dad’s already seen her, and he’s coming this way.”
Montana’s words were like a punch to the gut.
I knew what it meant when George Stone, the president of the Soulless Sinners, took an interest in someone.
She would be expected to stay, to entertain, and to submit to the brothers’ whims. The weight of my decision suddenly felt heavier, the consequences more dire. I had to get her out, but how?
“Who’s your friend, boy?” The fucker’s voice cut through the noise, and my heart sank as I turned to see him approaching, his eyes fixed on the young woman standing beside me. “She’s new, I take it?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual.
“Yeah, she’s new,” I confirmed, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. “But she’s not feeling well. I was just about to take her home.”
I put a protective hand on her shoulder, willing her to play along.
George’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he saw through my lie.
Then he smiled—that familiar, dangerous smile that always preceded trouble.
“Nonsense. She just got here. Stay and enjoy yourself, sweetheart. My boy will take good care of you,” he said, slapping Montana on the back, before turning to me, his smile fading. “August, my office. Now.”
I felt the woman’s nervous gaze on me as I followed George, my heart pounding. I knew I was stepping into a lion’s den, but I had no choice. I had to protect her, even if it meant defying George and facing the consequences.
As I entered George’s office, the motherfucker didn’t wait before hauling off and punching me square in the jaw. “What kind of fucking game are you playing, boy? You’ve never joined in the fun, and now you want to participate? Bullshit! Who the fuck is she?”
Staggering back, I wiped my bloody lip with the back of my hand. “I don’t know. She just walked in and looked scared. I thought I’d be nice. She told me she woke up late because she’d been studying for a test. I’ve never met her before until a few minutes ago. I swear!”
George glared at me like a challenge, and I knew I had to choose my next words carefully. I tasted blood in my mouth, the coppery tang a stark contrast to the sickly-sweet scent of liquor that permeated the room.
“I’m not playing games, George. You know I wouldn’t risk everything I’ve worked for. I just felt responsible for her. She seemed lost, out of place.” I paused, choosing my next words carefully. “I didn’t want her to fall into the wrong hands. You know how things can get out of hand here.”
George’s eyes narrowed, his gaze assessing me for any sign of deception. “And what hands would those be, boy? You think I can’t control the men in my own fucking club? That I’d let some young girl be taken advantage of?”
Fuck yes, I believe that.
Yet, there was a warning in his tone, a silent threat that sent a shiver down my spine.
I fucking knew not to answer that question.
The fact was, I knew exactly who George Stone was and what he was capable of, and until I could prove it, I had to play along and bide my time.
Even if I wanted to gut the motherfucker from asshole to pie-hole.
“Get the fuck out of my sight,” he sneered. “Go fuck the bitch and then get rid of her. I see her around my club again, bitch won’t see the next sunrise. Get me, boy?”
I nodded quickly, moving toward the door. “Yes, Prez.”
Stepping out of George’s office, I felt like I’d just walked through a furnace, as my skin prickled with the heat of his anger.
The young woman was still there, standing next to Montana with her eyes wide and anxious, clearly having overheard George’s threat.
I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile, but inside, my stomach churned.
I knew George’s words weren’t an empty warning; he’d make good on his promise to get rid of her if she overstayed her welcome.
“Let’s get you out of here,” I murmured, taking her elbow and steering her through the crowd.
I could feel the weight of George’s gaze on my back as we wove our way toward the stairs. When we hit the second floor, I grabbed her hand and hurried down the hall toward my room. Once inside, I quickly shut the door and locked it, leaning my back against the door and sighing.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice trembling. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t helped me.”
I saw a mix of gratitude and something else—a spark of determination in her eyes, and I nodded. “Sure. No problem. I’m August, by the way,” I added, offering her a hand. “And you are?”
She smiled up at me, taking my hand, and said, “Diana. Diana Cooper.”