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“You good, Hijack?” Tammy asked, leaning on the back of my chair and meeting my gaze in the mirror as I applied my red lipstick.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Okay, you’re taking cage two. That’s the one on the left of the stage. All new girls start there.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Greg will come get you when it’s time for a break. It’s Saturday, our busiest night, so the club is at full capacity. Do not leave the cage until one of the guys gets you. If you’re tired, slow your dancing. Customers like provocative so don’t worry if you can’t keep up with the music. Security guys are always watching the floor so you won’t have an issue getting their attention if you need it.” She straightened and smiled, resting her hand on my shoulder. “Most of all have fun. Customers know if you’re not having fun.”
“Got it.” I slipped on my mask.
There was a knock on the door and Shari skipped over. “Let’s hit it, girls.” She wore a ton of makeup, but it wasn’t distasteful, just dramatic, almost like a mask in itself.
Greg was at the door. He wore an earpiece and was in the usual garb, black pants and T-shirt with Compass written on it. “Ladies,” he said.
Shari, Tammy, and Tab shifted by him, all tapping him either on the chest or shoulder as they did.
I stood, and his eyes hit me. Greg was handsome, in a rugged sort of way. The scruff on his face, neat and sculpted, dark eyes that right now looked black, and a defined nose with a slight notch as if it had been broken a few times.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He nodded.
I hesitantly walked toward him then stopped a foot away. “Listen, I’m sorry for the other night. That I took off. I was scared and well… I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“No reason to ever be scared at Compass. And next time you’re scared in here, you better be running to me, not away. Got it?”
I nodded.
Since he was tall, he bent at the waist to speak in my ear. “And I don’t get in trouble, Hijack. I am trouble.”
Jesus. His low graveled voice, words like that, he definitely was trouble. I half smiled because I thought he was teasing, but I wasn’t too sure because I really didn’t know him yet. But I liked that he was the one who made sure all the dancers were safe. I bet no one messed with him.
He escorted me to the cage, and I walked up the steps and into my dancing oasis for the night. Despite the platform having bars, it was at least twelve by twelve with plenty of room to move.
It was early, and the place was crowded but not yet packed. I could see the door from my vantage point, and there was a steady stream of patrons coming in.
I danced easily for the better part of the night, and Greg or Jacob came and got me every hour for a quick break. There was always cold, bottled water within reach.
It was almost one in the morning, and I was doing my last set when my heart stopped. Holy shit. That was Sculpt; I’d recognize him anywhere. He stood with his arm around a cute brown-haired girl who I recognized as his wife, Emily. He had a drink in hand and was peering over the railing at the crowd below while Emily chatted with Crisis.
Shit, Killian was there, too.
He was tilted forward, hands gripping the glass railing, and his eyes were focused on me.
I whirled around and danced holding the bars on either side. When I flicked my head back, bending over backward at the waist, my eyes went straight to him, and he was still watching me.
Shit. Could he tell it was me? No way. I looked nothing like myself and was wearing a mask. Plus it was too far away. I was being paranoid, and if I wanted this job, I was going to have to get over this fear that he’d find out. What was the worst that could happen? He’d tell Brett.
I kept my back to him as I finished my dance and the music ended.
Greg came to get me five minutes later, and I grabbed my water and… oh, shit. Upstairs. Our change room was upstairs, and I’d have to walk right by him and his friends.
I stopped.
Greg frowned, his eyes puzzling. “What’s up?”
I couldn’t very well try to trick him again, and there was no chance he’d fall for it, plus I had no clothes, no purse, no car keys. So I opted for the truth.
We were at the bottom of the stairs and I held the handrail, my fingers tapping the iron. “I… well, Kite is here. From Tear Asunder.”
Greg frowned. “Yeah. That a problem?”
