CHAPTER 56
Frankie
Funnily enough, it’s easy to find Niko.
He’s at Lynx, at his usual VIP table. He’s surrounded by his remaining posse members and getting a double lap dance from my friends Chanel and Bambi. Bambi looks shocked to see me but keeps grinding.
Chanel visibly blanches and loses her rhythm.
Niko flashes me a smug smile. I think he was expecting me.
And I’m not exactly surprised to see what he’s up to tonight. Only losers ask for doubles. We dancers make fun of men who want two women at once, saying they get half the fun for twice the price.
Doubles make small men feel like big shots.
And that is a perfect description of Nikolai Koslov.
He’d never even set foot in Lynx until he learned it’s where I worked. And then he couldn’t get enough of the place. Suddenly, he was our number one customer. He got off on watching me dance for other men, and then he took me home to use me.
Bambi looks over her shoulder at me and winces. “Have you returned? You want us to go?”
“I’m retired,” I tell her.
I don’t want to sit down. I don’t want any part of me touching any part of this place.
Retirement is definitely a wise decision, because even if I somehow manage to survive Niko, I know I’ll never strip again.
Where I used to see a classy place that provided a service, I now see a dingy shithole, playing to the lowest common denominator.
I’m done with this life.
I’m only sorry it took me so long to decide I wanted something better.
“Well, hello stranger,” Niko says in his thick accent, then smiles at me. I feel my skin crawl with disgust. He shoves Chanel and Bambi off his knees. “Go… get away from here,” he tells them.
They stumble past me, eyes huge with fear. I’m sure they heard about the mob hit the night I disappeared and put two and two together.
“Be careful, Fawn,” Bambi whispers as she brushes past me and slips from the VIP room.
And here we are. It’s time to play the game.
My plan is simple. I’m going to give myself back to Niko, and he’s going to leave the MacLaines alone. A plan can’t get any simpler than that.
“You look nice,” Niko says to me, then laughs again. His henchmen laugh too, because it’s expected of them. That’s when I notice that three of them are covered in cuts and bruises, and the entire left side of one man’s face is blown up like a balloon.
Special K’s handiwork.
“Thank you, baby. I know what you like.” I position myself in a coquettish pose. He likes me acting flirty and sweet while looking like a sex worker.
I stopped at my house on my way to the club. The place had been tossed. My computer and camera were stolen. My TV was shot at. My sofa had been knifed—the list goes on and on.
It wasn’t so much about Niko looking for me as it was Niko marking his territory.
But I found this little number in the closet. It’s one of my most ridiculous fuck-me outfits, with see-through cutouts and a skirt that barely covers my cooter. I’ve teased my hair up to twice its thickness, and there is an inch of makeup on my face.
I know I look like Niko’s wet dream. That’s the whole point.
I saunter over to him and trace a long fingernail down the side of his neck. I bend in close to whisper in his ear. “I’ve missed you.” I pull back to smile down at him.
Niko looks me up and down before his gaze meets mine. I see confusion in his bloodshot eyes, then suspicion, then a flash of recognition. “Fawn,” he says.
He calls me that when he wants to remind me I’m a stripper. When I met him, I met him as me, just a girl out with her friends, and I told him my name: Frankie Lyles.
But at the moment, I’ll take Fawn. It’s fine. Because it’s still a step back from bitch or cunt or whore or any of the lovely Russian things he calls me. I’m fine not knowing what the words mean. Based on the other ways he communicates with me, I think I get the point.
I straddle Niko’s lap, doing my best to quell the sick twist of my stomach. He smells disgusting, an overwhelming mix of Crown Royal and buckets of sweet cologne and the depths of hell, where he lives.
I steady myself and put my lips to his, cold and slimy. I kiss him for all I’m worth, willing myself not to gag in disgust. I know what this is. I’m selling myself to him, handing over my freedom to him.
But it’s worth it.
That’s what I remind myself as my tongue dances against his and I grind my crotch over his cock, now growing and pushing against his pants.
Niko isn’t a moron. He knows I haven’t returned because I love him.
But he’s a businessman, and this is all business. And in this business deal, he knows he’s already won.
“Let’s go to my place,” he says, when we come up for air.
He signals to his men, and then he pushes me off him, and he stands. Taking my hand, we leave the club and get into his black Lincoln. We drive the short distance to the airport, and during the trip, I make sure I’m all over him, as if he’s so irresistibly sexy that I can’t stop pawing him.
A helicopter is waiting for us, and we get in. I know where we’re going. We’re heading to his fortress at Lake Tahoe. He has a house in an exclusive gated community surrounded by water on three sides and everywhere else by fifteen-foot solid metal security fences.
An impenetrable compound.
I hate him.
I drape my leg over his during the flight, and my hand slips over his pants. Images of Special K pop into my mind and I nearly break down. His sweet, generous way. His willingness to give up everything for me.
How much I love him.
It’s going to take every ounce of my strength not to think of him. But I can’t think of him while I’m with Niko.
I shut my eyes tight and try to erase the memories from my brain. There’s no sense dwelling on what was or what might have been. The only thing that matters now is survival. For me, but more importantly for those at Yosemite Ranch.
The helicopter lands on the roof of Niko’s home, and we get out. We walk down to his bedroom, and when he finally closes the door and we’re alone, I begin to strip for him. He smiles at me, but it’s not a friendly smile.
He approaches me, and it takes all of my courage not to run. But I stand in place, still playing the game, still making sure that I broadcast how happy I am to be here with him, how much I’ve missed him.
When at my core I’m a shaking mess. I’m on the verge of vomiting.
Niko’s hand flashes out, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking me down and twisted to the side. My head flies upward, and I strain against the pain.
“I don’t know what you’re up to, bitch, but as long as it amuses me, I’ll play along.” He tugs on my hair so hard that I go flying backward, hitting the edge of the dresser at mid-back and knocking a lamp to the floor. He marches toward me and grabs my arm, wringing it sharply.
“Niko! I don’t know what you mean! I’m not playing a game sweetie.”
He spins me around by the roots of my hair, my knees scraping on the carpet.
“I missed you so much. We had a good thing, and I should never have gotten scared and ran. You know how stupid I can be. Will you take me back? I’ll do anything for you.”
“Like be on time?” He wrings my arm even more, and I can’t help but cry out.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice strained. “I took too long getting pretty for you that night.”
He drops my arm, stalks over to the bed, and sits at the foot. “My men said you were with a cowboy. You were holding hands and laughing with a cowboy.”
“They got it wrong, sweetie,” I say. I saunter toward him and kneel before him, scooting between his legs.
“You know, I think I might want to send my men over there tonight. That man, the one with the nice family. Kevin MacLaine. Are you surprised I know his name?”
In some ways, no. But in other ways, I’m shocked as hell. But I’ve learned that it’s best that I keep any shock to myself. “Of course, I’m not surprised. You know everything, sweetie. You’re the most powerful man in Vegas.”
He relaxes a little. There’s nothing Niko enjoys more than an undeserved compliment.
“Have you been working out more?” I ask, massaging the inside of his thigh. “So strong. So hard.”
“This might be fun for a little while,” he muses.
“I’ll make sure you have all the fun you can handle,” I purr.
Without warning, he grabs the lower half of my face and squeezes so hard my skin feels as if it will rip. “Don’t fuck up, Fawn. You fuck up, you take one wrong step, and I’ll punish you. You have no idea how much pain I can inflict on a human being. And as for your cowboy…”
“Please,” I beg, forgetting my act. “Don’t hurt the MacLaines. Hurt me. I deserve it. They did nothing.”
He looks at me in surprise. It’s almost like he’s impressed that I can go from bullshitting to earnest pleading in a heartbeat. “Fair enough. Keep me distracted, and I’ll forget I ever heard that name. What was his name again, bitch?”
“Who’s name?”
He produces an evil smile.
I know that Niko’s word isn’t worth a damn after taxes, but if I can keep him distracted, I have a shot. He looks down at his crotch, and I unbutton and unzip his pants.
“Suck my cock,” he orders. “I want to watch you swallow me down until you can’t breathe.”