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“Of course,” she replied, failing to hide the terror engulfed in her tone. “Will it take long? I have to give Samara a ride home.”
“It'll take as much time as I please,” he growled, his eyes flashing. “Now come.”
Ginger looked at me and as I met her petrified gaze, my heart shattered for her. I knew what Damien wanted. He was about to take her into his office and have his way with her regardless of how much she’d protest to it.
She thought I didn’t know but I did. I knew everything about Damien Reyez and how he treated the dancers. People talked here at the Gentlemen’s Club. Maybe not to me, but I’d heard enough from the other strippers conversing with each other in the locker room to know how horrible of a man Damien really was inside and out.
That’s why I was glad I followed my gut and absolutely refused to dance here at the club.
Fear flashed in her eyes as Ginger handed over her keys to me, saying nothing.
Bowing her head, she followed behind Damien, leaving me alone with Jace.
“Don’t worry,” he said to me, glancing nervously back at his dad and Ginger’s retreating backs. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt her.”
He said nothing further and marched away from me, both fists clenched so heavily at his sides it made the veins in his muscles pop out. With my anxiety shooting through the roof, I grasped the keys tightly in my hand and walked out the door.
Ginger silently sobbed next to me about an hour later, her grip clasped tightly to the steering wheel. When she came out the club and got in the car, the first words she spoke to me were, “I’m okay, don’t worry about it.”
It was hard not to worry. Even though it was dark outside, the glare from all the streetlamps reflecting off the windows exposed the ugly, purple bruising resting beneath her right eye.
Damien hurt her.
Jace lied to me.
He said he'd protect her, and he failed to uphold that promise.
My home was about ten blocks from the club. When Ginger pulled into the driveway which harbored the shitty as fuck trailer I was forced to live in with my pathetic excuse of a mother, she reached over and wrapped her arms around me, her tears soaking into the side of my cheek.
“I love you, you know that, right?” she whispered, her shattered voice crumpling my heart all over again. “No matter what happens, everything will be okay. Promise me that one day you’ll get out of here and go far, far away. Live your dreams and don’t let anything hold you back.”
I started to open my mouth, but my voice began to crack, so I had to swallow to compose myself.
Why was she saying this to me? What the fuck happened in there with her and Damien to make her say something like this? Why did I feel like she was saying her final goodbyes to me?
“Ginger…”
“Promise me,”she demanded, her voice a brittle rasp. “You have to promise.”
“I promise,” I quickly retorted, holding her as tight as she held me.
“Good. I’ll see you soon, kid. Don’t forget to grab your bike.”
I hopped out the car, taking in Ginger wiping under her eyes before the hatch popped open. When I got my bike out, that was it. She drove off without sparing a second glance in my direction.
I didn’t appreciate the feeling rustling around in my gut. Something was wrong. I felt it deep in my soul.
“You’re late,” my mother hissed when I walked inside and shut the door.
“Two girls didn’t come in tonight. Damien made me stay and—who the fuck are you?”
My angry eyes flashed as I took in some random as fuck guy sitting next to my mother at the kitchen table, hunched over snorting a huge line of coke.
“This is Roger,” Mom replied, refusing to meet my gaze as she plucked the rolled-up currency from his hand and proceeded to snort a line for herself. “He’ll be staying here with us.”
“Like fucking hell he is,” I snapped, balling my fists in rage. “I don’t know who you are but GET THE FUCK OUT ofmyhouse!”
I called it mine because the truth was, it ismine.Ipaid all the bills and provided all the groceries for this shit-hole. Mom did nothing but waste what little money she did have on whatever street drug she could get her hands on. I even had to pay off her drug debts a few times just so we wouldn’t have to worry about a fucking crime lord breaking down our door and slaughtering us because she couldn’t pay what she owed.
