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“By shady shit, I meant illegal. The club is legit now. Everything for the strip joint is on the books. Fuck, we even pay taxes. ”
I shrugged.
“Our club has to make money. This is how we make money. We’re bikers, Logan. We’re not going to run a fucking ice cream parlor.”
“That’s no longer a good enough explanation. For Christ’s sake, Smoke, you have a daughter. What if it was Tavy on stage? How would you feel?”
“I’d lose my shit. But you have to understand something; these girls have a choice. They choose to make their money this way. They could easily get a job as bartenders or waitresses. Not everyone is a victim. So I’m telling you this is how it is. Take it or leave it.”
Blood roared in my ears. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay,” I said again, rising. “Get out.”
“Logan—”
“Out, Smoke. I won’t sit here and be disrespected. I won’t sit here and pretend that I’m ever going to be okay with a man I’m dating frequenting a strip club, even if it is for business. Not when I know the kind of shit that goes down in them. I don’t want any part of it.”
He stared at me with glittering brown eyes and then stood. “You’re not part of it.”
“I am a part of it, because I know about it.” I crossed my arms over my chest in a signature move of defense. “You said the club was trying to shut down human trafficking. Why would you get involved in another form of the skin trade? It’s outright exploitation of women.”
“It’s not the fucking same. Not even a little bit.” He stood taller, his face paling. “We don’t exploit them. No one is being forced to be there. Women want to make money, they can do it the way they see fit. And for the record—”
He took a step toward me, and I instinctively took a step back.
Smoke’s jaw clenched and he stopped in his tracks. “For the record,” he repeated, his voice lower this time, “we don’t allow any drugs in our club, and we don’t allow prostitution. It puts everyone at risk so we keep security tight. A girl could whisper and our guys would be in the room in a heartbeat to ensure she’s safe. They’re not whores. We’re in the business of making money, not exploiting people who can’t protect themselves.”
We stared at each other. My ribcage was tight with tension as my heart threatened to leap out of my chest.
“I’ve told you how it’s going to be. Now you have to decide if you’re going to trust me or not.”
Without another word, Smoke turned, grabbed his belongings, and left.
Chapter 39
I woke up pissed off.
My sleep had been erratic, along with my thoughts.
I glanced at the clock. It was just past seven. I hoped the bakery rush was over because I needed caffeine, and to talk to Brooklyn.
In no way did I feel like I’d over-reacted. How did the Old Ladies deal with their men running a strip club and spending time there?
I got out of bed and quickly brushed my teeth and splashed cool water on my face. It did nothing to make me look better. I was pale and my eyes were bloodshot.
There was only one customer ahead of me when I got in line. Jazz’s smile was bright and perky.
“Whoa,” she said in way of greeting as I got to the register. “You look like you were up all night. Please tell me you and Smoke had an all-night boink-fest.”
Her good nature prickled my already frayed nerves. “No,” I clipped.
Jazz’s smile dimmed. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “Is Brooklyn here?”
“She’s in the back,” Jazz said. “Want me to bring you a vanilla latte?”
