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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
*Kio “K.O.” - Enforcer*
As soon as I enter the door, I am yanked to the side and have one of my throwing knives out and against a small, warm neck just as fast.
Lace’s very recognizable voice gasps and her lace-covered chest hitches under my forearm. I immediately let go as my eyes fully adjust from the sunshine outside to the hazy, colorful strobe lights inside.
Mind fucked up from that kiss with Jess, and in what I assumed was a safe zone, my guard dropped. In doing so, my reaction was careless. Lace knows we are involved in some shady stuff, but not what. I have definitely never threatened her. Expecting questions and accusations about my weapon, I slide it back into the hidden sleeve.
Her accusations and questions come, but not on the topic I expected. Lace spins on me and repeatedly pokes a dainty finger against my jacket. “I swear to the stars above if you are playing around with her feelings, I’ll… I’ll…” I steady my most practiced, stoic expression, waiting. “Clip your ballsack with one of those extra-large toenail clippers. I mean it.”
What little smile I was hiding disappears completely. Ouch. My nuts draw up with just the imagery of such a thing.
Her eyes slink toward where I tucked the knife at my hip but drift right back up to my face with an unrelenting scowl. “Look, us dancers deal with enough shit in this trade as it is. We don’t need all that heartbreak on top of it. She’s a kept woman; you know that. What the hell are you playing at?”
I straighten and lift my chin, peering down my nose at her. No harm, no foul. “I care about her. That man is fucking her up.”
“And you think kissing her will help with that? If he finds out, it will be bad for her.”
“Let him find out.” My upper lip curls.
“That’s fucked up, especially for you. Putting her at risk like that? I’m disappointed.”
“What did she say? Do I need to apologize?” It’s hard not to sound desperate with that question, so I put as much nonchalance into it as possible, leaning against the entry desk. What’s even harder is disappointing Lace, though.
Her expression shutters, and she gets all business — a look I hate on any of these women, especially Lace and Jess. “No apology needed. I don’t know, just maybe consider staying in your own lane.”
I raise an eyebrow and huff out a chuckle before wrapping my arms around her small frame and dragging her against me.
“You’re not going to change my mind with one of your iconic hugs. Your wiles don’t work on me,” she states.
“Lies.”
“Yeah.” Lace chuckles and melts into the hug. But then she tilts her head back and pins me with those amber eyes. “Do you like her because she’s amazing or because her life is a problem that needs fixin’?” Her sweet, genuine Southern accent rolls through me.
“What can I say? I’m a bleeding heart,” I state. Not only is it the truth, but also a few years ago, one of the girls in this club — one in our increasingly tightening circle — was on the losing end of such a battle. We were all in town the night it happened. We didn’t ask enough questions. Kept to our own business. That night, the saloon’s infamous “Triple Threat” — Lace, Jess, and Rachal — turned into a duo.
After that, keeping in our own damn lane wasn’t an option. That man, though, got off easy. Too damn easy. Even now he’s still in protective custody, awaiting trial.
All this and more slams into my thoughts while Lace studies me. The club has been looking out for Lace longer than she realizes. But the night Rachal died, I swore another oath that I would kill anyone who messed with any of the dancers here.
Stoney, too, one day. But that project has a lot of tangled strings.
For now, I keep an especially keen eye on Lace and Jess. That bleeding heart of mine gushes for them. “You and Jess are too good for this scene. Ever thought of getting out?”
Her eyelashes flutter, but she ignores the question. Instead, she brushes the loose hair from my face, reaches around my head, and tucks it all back into my low bun. Then, she gives me a small kiss on the cheek and pats my chest approvingly. “Thank you for always looking out for us. Just be careful with her, okay?” I know Lace is thinking about Rachal, but neither of us mention her name. She does elaborate in a way that makes my heart bleed even more, though. “Losing Jess, too, would be the end of me. That girl is my ride or die. If you start drawing unneeded attention to her and it gets her in trouble, I will not be able to forgive you. She lies low, you know?”
I pinch her chin between my thumb and forefinger and give her a kiss on the forehead. “I care about her just as much as I care about you. I want her safe, not the other way around.”
Her shoulders loosen, and a devilish smile lifts on her lips. “If you care about me just as much, how come I’ve never gotten a kiss like that?”
I tuck my chin and flutter my eyelashes. “You have. I’m heartbroken that you don’t remember.”
She slaps me playfully on the chest. “You fucked me hard and nasty the night of your initiation. We did plenty of kissing, but nothing like that.”
I dip my head down and brush my lips against hers, immediately feeling that insane spark she puts off. All I did was peck Jess on the lips. I’ll never fully understand women sometimes, but if the type of kissing we did on my initiation night doesn’t count and this does, then I’m all about trying.
A small, barely perceptible brush of air whooshes between our lips as I pull back from the small gesture. Lace’s fingers come up to her mouth, and her eyelashes flutter upward. “No wonder Jess was shocked silly. I felt that all the way to my toes. That’s some serious energy you’re putting off.”
“Glad I could provide.” I tuck her under my arm. We emerge from the shadows and rejoin everyone who had since filled the room again.
