Chapter 12
Brooke
“Why are you telling me this right now?” I rest my head in my hands on the desk in front of me.
“Because I don’t want to keep working with that shit,” Savannah says. I pull my head up to look at her before I grin. Savannah is one of our dancers here.
“Let me get this straight. You want to be a stripper, but you don’t want to take all your clothes off? Am I getting this right so far?” I almost laugh when the words come out of my mouth. What the hell did she think being a stripper was?
“Exactly! I knew you’d understand, Brookey.” She smiles. I shake my head.
“No, don’t get that fucked up, Savannah. I don’t understand. You’re a fucking stripper. You strip! What part of that is hard for you to understand?” I ask, getting annoyed with the whole situation. She’s clearly a fucking airhead.
“Taking all my clothes off goes against my religion,” she says. Ok, that’s it. The laughter I tried to hold back has erupted. Her religion? I can’t. I just can’t today.
“Get out of my office,” I say through the tears that fall down my cheeks. I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard in a long time.
“So, I can leave my clothes on?” she asks dumbly. I double over, holding my stomach.
“No! You’re a stripper. You have to strip, Savannah. If you don’t want to, go find another job.” I wave her off, not missing the huff that escapes her. I can’t believe she even asked me that.
I wipe my eyes before shoving out of the chair and heading toward the back. I need to check inventory and reorder whatever was lacking. I’m happily counting boxes when I hear a noise behind me. If one of those dancers came back here, I swear to god she’s fired.
“You might want to sneak back out of here before I see you,” I yell through the room, turning back to the boxes in front of me.
“What if I don’t?” a deep voice vibrates behind me.
I stand up slowly, straightening my back. I’m in the fighting mood. I’m ready for it. I crave it. I turn slowly and see the dark eyes of an unknown man standing in the back of my goddamn club.
“Who the hell are you?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.
He grins a dark, sinister smile. It should scare me, but it doesn’t. I trail my eyes over his body, sizing him up. I’ve taken men his size before. He looks to be well built, but that won’t stop me from giving it my all.
“I’m here to make a deal with your uncle,” he says casually.
“And that deal would be?”
“Not involving you, little girl. I make deals with men, not little women.” His smirk makes my hands clench.
“Well, my uncle isn’t here. I am. I run this shit. What the fuck do you want?” I ask getting more pissed by the second. I look him over once more only to notice the leather vest he’s wearing. Did Declan send him here? He wouldn’t know about me working, here would he? No, he couldn’t.
“I made Devon an offer a while back on behalf of my club. We want his answer.” The man crosses his arms over his chest before he steps closer to me. I watch him intently, ready to make a move if he tries anything.
“The answer is no. Whatever the fuck it was, it’s no.” His nostrils flare, his smirk deepening.
“You’re not in a position to tell me no.” Before I can register what’s happening, his fist collides with my eye. That bastard!
He throws another punch seeing as I didn’t go down the first time, but I dodge it. My hands are up, ready for a fight. He comes at me again only to be on the receiving end of my fist. Blood sprays from his nose, and he stumbles back. He gives me a sinister smile as he licks the blood from his lip.
“You just signed your death warrant.” He points at me. The fire in his eyes makes me smile. I don’t know why I’m a sick bitch like that, but when a man thinks he’s won, it gives me a power surge.
I step up to him, ready to throw down. “Bring it.”
Someone clapping their hands pulls my attention. The big guy steps back quickly when the other comes into view.
“Impressive for a girl,” the new man says. I look him over. He’s a little bigger than this guy, but that doesn’t mean shit.
“What is this, surprise visit day?” I snap.
He smiles a gorgeous smile. This one is actually pretty damn nice to look at. If he wasn’t trying to steal my uncle’s club, I might fuck him.
“Let me apologize for my boy here. He has no manners.” He flicks his gaze to his bleeding friends before bringing those golden eyes back to mine. “Your uncle was in negotiations with us. He sort of skipped out on our meetin’s. We just needed to see where his head was at.”
“I don’t know anything about that. You might want to show up when he’s here,” I tell him, reaching up to see if that other asshole split my eyebrow open.
The man in front of me brings his hand up. His thumb runs over the bruise that I’m sure is starting to form. He’s gentle at first. It’s strange, but then he presses his thumb into the swollen skin, causing me to cry out in pain.
“Tell your uncle that Craft is lookin’ for him.”