Break Out (Steel Veins MC Book 2) Read online

  Remy needs you. You can’t let him down.

  The dull, thumping bass I heard inside threatened to blow out my ears once Remy opened the door. It was amazing how loud it was. How did the dancers even talk to their… their what? Customers?

  Jesus, I didn’t even know any of the terminology. This’ll be tough.

  I scolded myself for not doing my research online back when I was a broke college girl. I was a timid, angry, little thing back then who’d never even fantasize about going to a strip club, let alone dancing at one! I forced myself to breathe.

  I was too fucking nervous.

  We strode through the first door into an ID check hallway and were met with the wafting aroma of stale cigarette smoke, spilled drinks, and old sweat. It was the scent of despair, and I could feel it seeping into my pores.

  A fat, Hispanic man in a black “Staff” shirt was sitting on a high stool and was giggling over something on his smartphone. “Heh, heh, fucking Jimmy Kimmel, man! Heh. Oh, man... Fucking kills me.” He glanced up at us, wiped his eyes, and popped out his one earbud. He was all smiles. “IDs, guys?”

  Oh, shit! I didn’t have my ID! I had no idea where it was. At the gas station? Maybe my room at aunty and uncle’s house? If I had left it there, it was gone now. I shot Remy a worried look, but he didn’t acknowledge it, probably in an attempt to avoid suspicion.

  “My girlfriend wants to dance.” Remy took my hand, raised it, and turned me around in a circle so that the bouncer could look me over. “Who do we talk to about that?”

  “Damn, man. You be lucky.” The bouncer jovially slapped Remy on the shoulder then leaned into the club to flag down one of the girls. “Cocoa! Tell Ginger we gotta new girl! She looks aright!”

  “You tell her yo self, you fat ass, mothafucka! I’m busy.” Cocoa flipped him the bird and walked away to go sit on some customer’s lap. Her whole demeanor shifted to that of silk and honey as she talked and laughed with the man who had a fist full of ones out and ready.

  “Fucking cunt. Aright, come on. I’ll take ya to the house mom. Ya gotta watch out for selfish bitches like Cocoa. They’ll—oh, hold up! Gotta search ya.”

  Remy put his hands up and allowed the bouncer walk over to him.

  “Ya ain’t her pimp, right?” the bouncer asked as he patted Remy down.

  “I look like a fucking pimp to you?” Remy’s voice was razor sharp.

  “Sorry, man. They make me ask.” The bouncer threw his hands up then turned his attention to me.

  I swallowed hard.

  If he looked in my bag, he’d definitely spot the gun.

  “You nervous, huh?

  “It’s my first time dancing.” I managed a weak smile and nodded despite the fact that everything about this place made my skin crawl.

  “Is cool. Relax. You’ll do aright. A girl like you’s gonna make a fucking killing in here.” The bouncer smiled and motioned for me to walk in, not bothering to check my bag.

  I exhaled silently in relief, wondering how long my luck would hold out.

  Remy squeezed my hand lightly as we all walked. His touch immediately calmed my nerves a bit. I wasn’t alone. I just had to trust him. I could do that. He placed a hand on my lower back, and we followed the man in the black shirt around one of the several bars.

  An artificial freshener blanketed the air, yet it couldn’t hide the smells. Instead, it created this noxious, sickly sweet cocktail that almost made me gag. I did note the club’s two circular stages were connected in the middle by a thick catwalk and surrounded by plush, shoulder-high, semi-circular chairs and round wooden tables. The walls were lined with dimly lit booths for the lap dances.

  The bouncer took us to the DJ who was a thin man with a button-up shirt rolled at the sleeves and a loose tie. He seemed really young, but I think he just had that kind of face. The bouncer was about to ask him a question but then saw who he was looking for and escorted us over to a woman near the bar instead.

  “Ginger, we got a new girl. This is— Wuz ya name?” the bouncer asked.

  Ginger, a tired woman in her mid-forties, raised an eyebrow at me.

  “Uh, Star,” I blurted. God, I hated being put on the spot like that! Was he asking for my stage name or my real name? Shit! I shouldn’t have told them my real name anyways! I wasn’t there for an actual fucking job. What was I thinking?

  “Already got a Star,” Ginger replied callously, fishing beneath the bar for something. “Pick another name.”

  “Huh?” They already had a Star? I was a little offended by that. My name wasn’t a stripper name!

  Was it?

  “I’ll put you down as a Roxanne. We haven’t had a Roxy in a while.” Ginger waved off the bouncer and started filling in the new hire paperwork, then slid the sheets over to me. “Alright, here you go. Just fill in the marked areas. We have an extra outfit if you need it. When you’re done, go get dressed in the bathroom and talk to Jimmy. He’s the DJ. He’ll explain how all the fees work and set you up with a song. You lookin’ to start tonight, or you just gonna audition?”

  Fortunately, Remy saw the uncertain look on my face and interjected before I had to answer. “She wants to start tonight.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Go get dressed, Roxy. I’ll wrap this paperwork up for you.”

  Remy pulled me close for a kiss. It was abrupt, but it was nice even if he was only playing up the role of the supportive boyfriend. He slapped me playfully on the ass as I walked by then turned away and started asking a few questions of his own to Ginger. “When’s Gino coming in? One of his old friends is swinging by tonight. Wanna say hi.” Remy’s words were devoured by the music the closer I came to the DJ and the bathrooms.

  Just before I entered the bathroom which doubled as their changing room, I spotted Remy unrolling a wad of cash.

  In response, Ginger promptly threw away all my paperwork.

  Yeah, this place had to be connected to organized crime somehow.

  The bathroom was beyond disgusting. Everything was clean enough, but I was shocked that it was in such a state of disrepair. Two of the stalls didn’t have doors, the mirror had words and symbols scratched into them, one of the overheard lights flickered, and a few others were just out. There was a girl cursing in Spanish washing her skirt under one of the shower heads. I think someone tossed a drink on her… or worse.

  The thought of “worse” gave me another shiver.

  I changed as quickly as I could. The girls didn’t notice me unless it was to glare at the new girl horning in on their business. I didn’t know if that was the situation, but they were all so intimidating. I had so many questions, but I kept them to myself. A few girls looked me over, said something in a different language, then laughed and walked off.

  This sucks, I decided. I hate it here!

  When I finished putting on my outfit which was far more revealing than I realized when I picked it out, I went over to the DJ and had him pick two songs for me. I honestly couldn’t care less what he played. The type of music wasn’t going to make me any less nervous. There was already a good amount of men there when we showed up, but since I’d changed, the club really started to pick up. The place was packed now.

  I searched for Remy but couldn’t find him. Panic began set in to the point of being queasy, as I felt unbelievably vulnerable. Poisonous thoughts infected me.

  Had he left me there like he did at the convenience store?

  Standing shyly out in the open, wearing practically nothing I was so—exposed.

  I smiled at a few of the girls that bothered to make eye contact with me, hoping that someone would come over and give me some words of encouragement. That probably wasn’t happening. So I fought to keep my shaking under control with deep breaths. It was painfully obvious that this was my first time.

  None of the girls ever came over.

  This could’ve been a nightmare that I would’ve woken up from in cold sweats. It was on par with a dream about being late to class, then r
ealizing you were completely naked and the teacher was asking you to stand up and give a presentation.

  Then the house music faded, and Jimmy called the next dancers to the stage.

  “Please welcome to the stage the delicious Roxy-liiiiiiicious in her debut set here at Mama Loca!”

  Roxy-licious? You had to be fucking kidding me. What the fuck was that? Was that supposed to be me? I started for the stage and looked around, but nobody raised a finger to join me. All the dances I’d seen since we walked in had at least two or three dancers. Did I have to do this all by myself?

  This couldn’t get any more worse.

  “That’s you. Get up there!” If Ginger hadn’t shown up behind me and physically shoved me toward the stage, I would’ve been too afraid to move.

  The blinding white of a spotlight trapped me like a deer in headlight and highlighted my way up on stage. The music suddenly blasted. It felt like everyone’s eyes were boring holes right through me. Where I was a little chilly standing out on the floor, up here I was absolutely melting. Men hollered at me, and it took all I could muster just to keep myself from collapsing in a sobbing wreck.

  Remy, where are you?

  I couldn’t believe that it was so much worse here than being on Muse’s bar. I think because at Muse’s, I didn’t have a choice. It was either dance or… whatever Top was going to do to me. That was a surprisingly easy decision to make. I was able to lose myself completely and let my survival instinct take over. I’d even tried to seduce Remy because I thought he might help me if I gave myself to him.

  Here, though, it was completely different. I was being crushed by self-consciousness and embarrassment. I wasn’t pretty enough. I couldn’t dance right. My tits were too small. No one liked a girl with glasses. Everyone was yelling at me. The men told me to strip. Ginger just wiggled around or something to show me, but I couldn’t move. It felt like I was dipped in hardening concrete.

  Then I saw him.

  Oh, thank God! My stone encasement immediately crumbled. Remy was by the payphone, watching me the whole time. He’d just hung up, bought a beer off the waitress, and was walking over. He hadn’t abandoned me after all.

  “I’m here,” I read the words off Remy’s lips as he sat by the stage. “Don’t worry.”

  I could do this.

  I exhaled then to gyrated my hips, feeling a bit better. Keeping as far away from the men watching as possible, I strutted to the pole. Every one of them looked gross in such differing ways. I found myself just kind of sashaying around and emulating what I’d seen the other girls do. I certainly wasn’t dancing, but the song was finally winding down, so I figured it wouldn’t matter.

  I had my eyes only on Remy the whole time.

  When the song ended, I immediately turned to walk off the stage. I hadn't made one greasy dollar. Had I even gone near anyone, I’m sure I would’ve, but I just needed to get the fuck out of there. But I didn’t make it a few steps down before I saw Ginger pointing harshly at me to back up. She mouthed that I had one more song before I could run away in shame.

  God, why won’t this end?

  My first song bled into the next—alone, exposed and embarrassed, I stood on the empty stage. Then my eyes unexpectedly found Remy sitting in an area where it was fairly empty. He smiled and held up a dollar in encouragement. I forced myself to inhale a few cleansing breaths and force myself not to run over to him so he could save me from all this!

  “I’m gonna lick you till your cunt falls off! Let me see that pussy!” this male-pattern balding guy yelled as he followed me over and sat next to Remy. He was ogling and reaching for me like crazy.

  Remy scanned about for security, but they didn’t care. I didn’t know if he was going to protectively intervene because it was very important for him to keep a low profile. I gritted my teeth and willed myself to tolerate it if I had to. Apparently, Remy wasn’t willing, though. That dangerous look in his eyes always sent a shiver down my spine.

  “C’mon, sexy! Give me a little rub, why don’tcha?”

  When the balding creep lunged for me again, Remy clamped a hand around the man’s balls and yanked him back into the seat next to him. He was so fast that I didn’t fully catch what happened until I looked once again. Tears immediately came to his bulging eyes as the bald man squeaked and squirmed, his face contorted grotesquely in pain.

  With his other hand, Remy slid a finger down my abdomen and tucked one of the bald man’s dollars into my thong. Then he beckoned me with a curling finger. I leaned in closer, sparing a disgusted glance at the writhing man to his right. The creep drooled, his eyes crossed. The pain he was feeling must’ve been maddening.

  “Dance just for me, Star. We’re the only two people in this room.”

  Even close enough to feel the warmth of his breath; Remy’s voice was nearly drowned beneath the roar of the music and cheers. But I didn’t need the full sound of his voice to bask in his beautiful words. I carefully read every deliciously deliberate syllable off his sexy lips. It made my thighs quiver.

  I stood back up and obliged.

  With unforgiving eyes, Remy returned his full attention to the creep, whispering something to the man that made him emphatically nod, empty out all the cash in his wallet onto the stage, then start screaming out apologies to me. When the bald creep’s face turned an acceptable shade of vein-popping red to Remy’s liking, he released the man.

  The jerk doubled over and tumbled to the floor onto his knees, dry-heaving. Eventually, he found his footing and staggered away.

  Good, I thought as I watched the prick find his footing and stagger away. That’s what you get, asshole. Being with Remy made me felt protected in a way I’d never had before. It was an intoxicating sensation, one that I selfishly never wanted to lose.

  When I danced for Remy, everything else fell away. The men, the lights, the other dancers – all of it vanished. There was only Remy and a bass-line, and I was wearing entirely too much clothing. My hips pulsed easier. My slender shoulders worked in smooth opposites. Dipping and grooving with the music, I untied and shrugged off my top.

  A slow twist showed Remy the long unclasping of my white, virginal bra. Over my shoulder, I could see him there. Leaned back in his chair, as he studied my every curve. I watched his eyes follow the jailbait cotton bra’s fluttery tumble to the floor. Arms crossed, I turned back to face him. I slowly lowered into as much of a forward split as I could do and splayed out on my stomach before him.

  He leaned on the end of his curved seat and pulled off my glasses. A flip of my head sent dark hair cascading atop him like a waterfall. When I gazed upward, his hard eyes stole my peripheral vision. There were no frayed edges in my range of sight, not even the thin panes of my glasses. Just him and nothing else.

  I didn’t know or care what the club’s rules were about touching were. I propped myself up and kissed him. Our tongues trespassed and intertwined.

  When Remy pulled away, I hadn’t realized it but my song was long over, and I was kind of surprised that no one told me to get off the stage. A round of applause went out as I stood fully up and grabbed my discarded top and bra. A modicum of my shyness returned as I hastened to cover myself and scoop up all the money left by that creep.

  Jimmy introduced another batch of girls, and everyone just continued on like nothing ever happened.

  “So much for inconspicuous,” I whispered when I got off the stage and met him on the floor. I still couldn’t help feeling a little embarrassed that I kissed him like that.

  “These people have short memories.” Remy scanned the crowd with dangerous eyes that made me ache for him. He gently brushed the hair from my eyes and slid my glasses back onto my face. “We have some time to kill. I’ll get us some drinks.”

  I found myself biting my lip in his brief absence, thinking about the care in which he returned my glasses. Remy had this hold over me that made my head swim like I was under his spell… What was I thinking? He was magic.

  Remy made his way b
ack from the bar with a bottle of something. The guys, even the ones who had been talking to dancers, took the time to pat Remy on the back or give him a thumbs up as he passed. The girls weren’t too happy about that and glared hatefully at me. I certainly wasn’t making any friends here.

  Fine by me. Fuck them.

  “Fifty dollars says that you’re mine for the next half hour.” Remy placed a ticket stub on the table.

  “Just fifty?” I coyly acted disappointed. “Last time you gave me a hundred.”

  “Looks like you’re going to have to earn the rest of it.” He touched the icy bottle to the back of my thigh and spurred me forward.

  That cold felt so good after those hot lights.

  As we walked upstairs, Remy gave the bouncer stationed there the ticket and an extra fifty. The man told us to have fun then clinked the purple felted rope chain closed behind us then strolled a little further down the stairs so he was out of eye-shot.

  The “Private Dance Rooms” were a wall of numbered, crushed red velvet, curtained-off alcoves. Remy pulled back the faded curtain divider of one so that I could walk in. Residual music was loud enough to dance to but also soft enough that we could actually talk to one another.

  With a wicked smile, I dropped my purse and shoved Remy onto one of the pillowed benches that lined the wall. I kept just outside of arms reach and danced, slowly peeling layers of clothing off. His breathing became subtly heavier. Oh, he was hungry for every square-inch of smooth flesh I gave him. With every piece of clothing that fell, I dared him.

  “Come here,” my eyelashes called to him.

  How bad did he want it?

  I wondered which of us would lose control first.

  Remy hunched forward. No smile on his lips, just budding determination was written all over those strong, tattooed arms. It was spelled out on his every corded muscle. He would have me.

  Down to just bra, panties, and heels, I flicked open the button on his jeans and slid my hands up under his shirt. They climbed over every hard ridge and valley, through the course patch of his chest hair before, arms raised, he let me pull his shirt right off. I discarded it and poured over him, blanketing him with kisses. I slid my thighs over his jeans and straddled his lap, facing him. My hands lightly massaged along his ribs before plunging to his waist.