Page 8 of Her Trust


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“Ye know each other?” Stuart gestures between us and I find myself trying to come up with an answer, but she answers for me with a shrug.

“We fucked.” She turns to the bartender, completely unbothered by my presence. “Denny, can you do me a whiskey sour for table three, please?”

“Sure, you want me to bring it over?”

She leans on the bar, sticking her arse out and squeezing her fake tits together. “Nah, he likes it whenIserve him,” she purrs with a wink.

Den laughs and gets to making the concoction.

“What an incredible waste of whisky,” Stuart mumbles next to me. “So, you two date or was it more a friends with benefits type situation?” he asks Nameless over my head and I panic again.

She laughs lyrically. “Aw Stu, you’re cute. We only met last night!”

The Scot shakes his head and grunts. “I don’t get you young people.”

“We can’t all meet the loves of our lives at fifteen and marry them right out of school.” Her face falls serious. “How is Lorraine?”

He nods. “Doing okay.”

“Will you be here tomorrow? I’ll bake some cookies for you to take home for her.”

“She’d love that. You know I love your cookies.” He smacks his lips as though he can already taste them.

“They’re not for you, Stu!” She slaps his arm, but her smile is wide. It’s bizarre to witness this whole exchange when she’s in a thong and bra.

She turns her attention to me. “So, you’re the new bodyguard?”

I nod.

She leans in to talk just to me. “You want to know my name yet?”

I glare at her as she takes obvious enjoyment from my discomfort.

“Candy,” Den places a tumbler down in front of her. “One whisky sour for your friend at table three.”

“Candy?” I ask her quietly with a quizzical brow.

“That’s right, gorgeous. And it’s not even a stage name. I gotta go work it, but if you ever need a proper induction, feel free to come look for me.” She smirks as she walks away, heading to an older guy in an ill-fitting suit who pulls her onto his waiting lap as she places his drink down.

I watch her laugh and trail her nails under his open collar as he grips her bare waist. She looks like she is having as much of a good time as he is, but I wonder how much of that is an act.I can’t claim to have any particular feelings for Candy but still, seeing her be groped and gawked at for a living irks me. Looking at the girls around the room, I wonder how they all ended up here.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Stuart says.

“Nothing interesting.” I shrug.

“There’s no room for jealousy here, lad,” he says jerking his chin toward Candy as her head is thrown back on a laugh.

I can’t help but chuckle. “I’m not jealous. I didn’t even know her name until now. Don’t worry about me, I won’t be getting possessive over sweet Candy any time soon.”

He nods with a grunt but still seems perplexed by the concept of casual sex with a stranger. I’m not lying but I still decide here and now that I will not be indulging during my time as an honorary Talon. I’m going to have to keep my wits about me and definitely not let my dick rule my brain, which will be difficult working from a strip club. Temptation is all around.

A flash of colour from the far corner of the room draws my attention. Annika stands tall with her hands in her pockets, surveying her domain like a Queen. Her eyes graze over the patrons before landing on me, narrowing a fraction. I notice for the first time that her lips naturally turn down slightly giving her a resting sad look, if it wasn’t for the hard calculation in her eyes, that is. She doesn’t hold my stare, looking back to her customers with a hard set to her jaw, but I can’t take my eyes off her. That’s why I notice the moment she sees something that captures her attention. She glares in the direction of the table Candy is at then starts making her way over. I don’t know her well, but I’d say by the fire in her expression that she isn’t going for a friendly chat.

Because I want to hear the conversation, all in the name of recon, I elbow Stuart from where he was talking to Den. “Is that something we should be involved in?”

He looks to where Annika is striding over to the table, her eyes set on a young guy in jeans and a t-shirt. “Shit,” he curses under his breath and starts following her, so I follow him.

We reach the table just as Annika does and I’m half expecting her to berate the guy she’s scowling at for not following the dress code as he’s the only one not wearing a suit, but she reaches over and snatches something from his hand.

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