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Marci nods. “He doesn’t believe that it’s his. No matter what I said, he didn’t believe me.” She looks at me with perfect seriousness. “I haven’t been with anybody else, Katya, I swear it.”
“I know you haven’t.”
“He said that a woman in a position like mine would say anything to trap a man.”
The rage I can see flicker in her eyes mirrors my own. It’s like an instant trigger. Fire to gasoline because that’s bullshit. Marci isn’t and never has been that kind of girl.
“Said that whores like me should know better.”
“He what?!”
She nods, unable to meet my eye as she speaks. “He honestly thinks that I wanted to trap him? Like I haven’t been standing onmy own two feet my whole damn life? Like I need anything from him? I tried to tell him. But it was like he changed who he was entirely the moment that I told him. Suddenly all strippers are nothing but whores and gold diggers.” Marci sighs and swallows down her bitterness. “I thought that I was doing the right thing by being honest with him… fat lot of good that it did me. For all of his big talking and sweet nothings that he liked to whisper to me. All of those months coming in regularly and begging for my time - just to ghost me.” She laughs humorlessly. “Funny, ain’t it? Got what he wanted and dipped.”
I’m stunned. For a long moment I just sit there, totally at a loss for what to say. An apology feels wrong. It won’t make anything better. My natural instincts tell me to go and hunt him down so that I can slash three of his tires for a start, maybe end with a little arson - but then we will both be charged.
“So, no matter how tired I am, or how much this baby is affecting me already, it’s not like I’m going to be able to work much longer. They won’t let a girl dance once she’s showing. Not to mention my center of gravity will be off. I’ve become the stereotype that I’ve always dreaded. Old, pregnant stripper.” Marci starts talking angrily, but as she goes on, her tone gives way to the sadness underneath of it. I can see tears welling in her eyes and I feel terrible.
I should have been here for her. I should have been a better friend to her.
I hug her tightly, letting her cry it out on my shoulder because I don’t know what else to do.
Visions of telling my brother and having him take care of things also feels like a great option - but that won’t help Marci in the long term either.
When she’s calmed down again, there’s only one other question that I know I have to ask.
“Are you going to keep it?” I ask softly. There’s not an answer that she could give me that I would judge her for. Not in a million years.
“Yes.” Marci answers too quickly. “No.”
I don’t want to make her cry again. I take her hand in mine. “There’s no right or wrong answer here. You certainly don’t have to choose right now.”
It’s my job to just be here for her, to be supportive of her in whatever way she needs me to be.
“I just… I wanted to talk to him first. You know? I wanted to have a conversation. I thought that we could handle this situation like adults or something but apparently, I was wrong.” Marci squeezes my hand tighter. “I’m scared.”
I smile. “Well. Then we have to get you that conversation.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come on, you two were ‘dating’ long enough to know where he’s gotta be right now.” I say simply. I get up and start packing up her bag on her behalf. “Wherever he is, we pull up, and party crash. Real simple.”
“No...” Marci protests with a smile.
“I’m not just going to let that asshole get away with this!”
Besides, I have so much pent-up rage and frustration boiling around inside of me right now that could use an outlet that deserves it.
“He’s hosting an event at another club downtown, a real ritzy place. They never let anybody in that’s not on the guest list.”
I shrug. That’s never stopped me before. I have a hidden talent for getting into places where I’m not supposed to be anyway. I have absolutely no shame in throwing around my surname to get me into places that would otherwise be impossible to get into. Not at all.
“I’ll have my brother’s men drive us there. Come on.” I hurl her bag over my shoulder. “Let’s go hunting.”
CHAPTER SIX
LUCA
Ihave to give Alexei credit where it's due.
