Page 121 of Fighting for His Life

“And there went her happiness,” he grins. “Let’s see if we can find a unicorn.”

Layla

I stared at my reflection in the mirror wondering how I ended up back here. It was probably the dumbest decision I’d ever made. I prayed it didn’t bite me in the ass, but it wasn’t as if I had a choice.

Damien wouldn’t find me here. He had no idea I’d lived here my entire childhood until my father shipped me off. This was the first time I’d set foot in this city in ten years. I didn’t even return for my own father’s funeral two years ago. But he’d given me no reason to want to return before he died. Why wouldn’t I come to see him lowered into the ground.

The doorbell ringing draws me from my thoughts. I walk through the dog trot house of my father to the front door. I open the doors to find my cousin, Hunter, on the other side. Her mouth drops open at the sight of me. “Holy shit, girl! I almost didn’t recognize you.”

I frown. “The point is that you don’t recognize me.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, Laylay. You don’t look anything like the seventeen-year-old girl who left. All of this,” she gestures to my disguise, “is unnecessary.”

I tug at the bright red wig covering my dark hair as she continues to stare at my transformed appearance. Brown contacts cover my normally bright green eyes. Heavy contouring makes my already high cheekbones more prominent. Fine liquid eye liner with smokey shadow gave my eyes more almond shaped. I prayed it was enough.

“Damien won’t find you here,” she says reassuringly.

“I can’t be sure of that,” I say nervously. “And he’s not the only one I can’t afford to have find me. You know that.”

Hunter shakes her blond head sadly. “You can’t hide from him here, Layla. Besides, he could probably help you with your Damien problem.”

“No,” I say firmly. “I don’t want his damn help and I don’t want him to find me, so don’t you dare tell him.”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” she sighs.

“How do I look?” I ask to change the subject even though she’s already told me I look different.

But apparently, she didn’t notice my outfit. She takes in my short black shorts, the tight fitted, low cut red tank and the tall black stiletto boots with a glare. “Like a stripper,” she says finally.

I wince. “I’m sure I have on a few more clothes than a stripper but that’s probably the point.” The only job I can get right now is a waitress at the Red King strip club and bar. Guess they want to let the theme spill over. “Arabella is sleeping. The number to the bar is on the counter. Wish me luck.”

“Luck,” she says with a scowl as I walk out the door.

It is a good thing I need this job. Otherwise, I would’ve already slammed my tray into someone’s face or a beer bottle over their head about two dozen ass grabs ago. Somehow, I’ve managed to keep a smile on my face all night.

See? I’m still smiling.

“Sky,” I hear the manager call. I hoped I’d made the right decision using my middle name and my mother’s maiden name when I applied here. The bar paid cash, so there was no way to know otherwise.

I went to the man who didn’t look much older than me. He was attractive with curly brown hair and green eyes. They seemed to hold a bit of humor at all times. He was easy to feel comfortable around. “How’s it going so far?” he asks with a cute grin. He is easy to like.

“Okay, I guess,” I say with a shrug. “I didn’t realize there would be so many people on the bar side. I thought the other side was the main attraction.”

“Believe me, it is,” he laughs. “No one giving you any trouble?”

I give him a quick shake of the head, my red wig swishing around my ears. “Nothing I’m not use to and can’t handle.”

“Good to hear. I have a job for you. If you do well, you can consider your probationary period over.”

My curiosity piques. “Really? After one night?”

“In the back corner behind the velvet curtain is our table reserved for special customers. Do well and the job is yours permanently.”

“What’s the catch?” I ask suspiciously.

“Clever girl,” he says approvingly. “The catch is that the customer is also the owner of the club.”

My brows arch in surprise. “So really no matter what happens, probation is over on my first night.”

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