Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“Kat?” My little brother’s voice calls out. “Can you sit with me until I fall asleep?”
I close my eyes for a moment, digging my fingers into the counter. I’ll just make up the sleep tomorrow. It will be fine, and things will work out for us.
On my way to Stevie’s room, I spot a packet of instant brownies, and an idea pops up in my tired mind. I can only see Eddie’s face, mysterious and ridiculously hot.
CHAPTER FOUR
Eddie
Back at the club, the lights glitter off the wet pavement. Neon signs advertise flashing green breasts and long legs that open and close as the lights blink.
I let out a breath, opening the back door. It makes me feel like a sleaze to run a place like this, but at least I’m around to keep the women safe.
Randall Myers stands with his arms crossed at the back door, and he nods at me when I make my way inside. He’s a monster of a man, but he only has eyes for the brassy blonde that dances every week. I’ve seen him watching her with lovestruck brown eyes.
As I pass by, his humongous arm stops me in my tracks. He narrows his eyes, nodding at the front door and looking as if he wanted to rip someone’s head off if he felt it might keep these girls safe. I can echo that sentiment well.
“Myers?” I ask, unsure of my security guard’s intentions.
I’ve only known him for a week, and I’m not sure if his face is just permanently fixed into a menacing scowl or if something is wrong.
“Boss,” he says, and it still feels odd to be addressed that way. “There’s a group of guys loitering around the front door,” he growls. “Want me to take care of them?”
“Not just yet,” I answer, smoothing down my leather jacket. “Do you know them?”
“Hangers-on,” Myers tells me, looking annoyed. His eyes don’t leave the door, though he wants to look at Chrissy I’m sure.“Your uncle let them hang around outside. Men like that pester the dancers. Peter always told them to leave through the back.”
“That’s not going to continue,” I retort, anger burning through me.
I can feel Myers following me like a hulking shadow when I stride quickly across the main floor, staying in the shadows so that I’m hidden from my sister’s raucous party. He’s at my back as we reach the door, right at my heels as I open it wide.
Outside of the club, the same SUV from earlier speeds off into the dark night.
“Bunch of assholes,” Myers grumbles. “Must have been waiting for the girls.”
“Keep an eye out,” I tell him, closing the door behind me. Myers nods at me as I tell him what I need from him. “Don’t let them come back in here, alright?”
“You got it, boss,” Myers answers seriously. He looks ready to destroy them if they come back.
When I leave the club hours later, the music is still pumping and thudding from the dark-tinted windows. My sister’s party has vacated, and I wonder where they’ve gotten off to, though they really may have left hours earlier anyway.
My car gleams in the parking lot, but a hand stops me as I try to leave the club.
“What do I call you?” the dancer with the coppery blonde hair asks when I turn around. She’s tiny, even smaller than Kathleen is, but her eyes burn brightly.
“Sorry?” I return, staring down at her where she’s clad in her glittering lingerie.
“I’m Chrissy,” she says, putting out a hand. “What should I call you then?”
“You can call me Eddie,” I tell her, though I’m not sure where she’s going with this.
“Eddie,” Chrissy nods, blowing her hair away from her eyes. “Kathleen is only nineteen. She turned nineteen about three months ago. She’s not twenty-one yet.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I wonder, squinting in the dark. I was almost sure that Kathleen wasn't old enough to work in the club earlier. I know now.
I wonder if this woman wants me to fire her or if she just likes to rat out her co-workers. If anything, it just makes me feel even more protective of Kathleen.
“Peter knew she was too young, and he hired her anyway,” Chrissy explains with a hand on her hip. “He thought she might bring in more customers, and he didn’t care about her safety.” She gives me an icy look. “She needs this job, but you’re not Peter.”
“So, what are you saying?” I can’t for the life of me understand what she wants.
Chrissy pats my chest, and her nails are sharp to dig through my shirt. “I’m saying you need to care about her safety more than Peter, but not enough to fire her for it. Can you do that?”
“I would have kept her safe either way,” I tell her. “But she’s not getting fired.”