I was floating on a cloud of happiness, with a dull ache between my legs and his cum soaking through my panties when he dropped me off outside of my rundown, single-wide in the trailer park. With a satisfied smirk, he slapped my ass and thanked me for the three hundred bucks he was going to collect for being the guy to get in my panties. He drove away, leaving me standing in my driveway with tears of shock and humiliation coursing down my cheeks. By the time I walked into work the next morning, eyes bloodshot and swollen from the tears I shed all night, the entire town knew. Or at least that’s what it felt like, and I felt like the stupidest person on the face of the planet for falling for his game.
I started making plans to leave that day.
Gossip in a small town spreads like wildfire and talk about me was no exception. I just kept my head down and did what needed to be done, knowing that soon I was going to escape. I did, and things were good, until I lost my job. I don’t even know why. I just showed up, worked my shift and at the end of the day my boss apologized and handed me my last check and let me know that they wouldn't be needing me anymore. I’m sure the rumors about me were behind it, they had been blown way out of proportion by that time. At least I’d been able to save enough money for a bus ticket and a deposit on a cheap apartment. I didn’t waste any time packing the few things I couldn’t leave behind. I went to see my grandmother, but she couldn’t be bothered with me any more than she could when Child Services brought me to her door. With that last bit of proof that I was unwanted in my hometown and my own family, I caught that bus and headed west without looking back.
So here I am, doing my best to smile and be polite when all I wanna do is growl and snarl like an angry animal every time some strange man puts his hands on me. Knowing Ronny Davis had his filthy, lying hands on me is enough to ruin my day whenever I think about it, but strangers thinking they have the right to paw me revolts me even more. I swear that the next person who slaps my ass is going to regret it.
Star can tell I’m at my limit.
“Why don’t you go help Sebastian at the bar,” she whispers, pushing me back the way we came.
Grateful for the respite, I nod and hurry in his direction. Sebastian’s been too busy for chit-chat, but he’s been polite and hasn’t once tried to touch me. That makes working behind the bar with him a haven. Ignoring the calls of several patrons seeking my attention, I beeline for the narrow gap in the bar and slip behind the long counter. Sebastian looks at me, brows lifted in silent question.
“Star said I should come help you,” I explain, half expecting him to tell me to get the hell out of his space. He doesn’t, just nods his understanding and waves a hand toward the row of taps.
“Know how to pour beer?” he asks. This I actually do know how to do. All mama’s boyfriends thought me fetching them a beer was part of my job description. There was more of the same when I started bouncing from foster home to foster home. Who woulda thought I was learning a marketable skill? The irony isn’t lost on me.
Acknowledging my nod that I can indeed pour beer, he quickly rattles off a list of what needs to be pulled from the line of taps. Snatching my order pad out of my small apron pocket I scribble down the orders and listen silently as he shows me where the racks of pint glasses are and leaves me to it. It doesn’t take long to fall into a rhythm and soon the waitresses are coming straight to me with their beer orders, leaving Sebastian to handle the more complicated drinks.
This I can do.
Chapter Three
Grayson
After downing my whiskey, I slip out the back door into the dark alley to call Xavier and let him know that Dominic isn’t here and the bartender hasn’t seen him tonight. I want to leave. To head back to Luminoso, where I have a small apartment, drink a beer in the comfort of my own place, and get some sleep. Things have been weird enough since Analise took off. Dominic showing up making threats about Xavier not getting on board with his vision of the family hasn’t helped things at all. He was supposed to be back in New York, stepping into Xavier Sr.’s shoes as head of the family, not here poking into the legitimate business my friend has established independent of his father and uncle.
I’ve known X my whole life. Our mothers had been friends since elementary school and they wanted the same for us. X was never going to be on board with the kind of shit that Dominic’s involved in. He didn’t want any part of what his old man was into, and compared to Dominic, Senior was a fucking choir boy. I don’t know what Dom was expecting. Maybe he anticipated exactly what happened, Xavier telling him to take his drugs and flesh trade and shove it. X refusing to get involved in sex trafficking gave Dominic the excuse he wanted to attempt taking him out of the picture entirely. Whether he means to do that financially or literally we haven’t figured out. My guess is that he means to do whatever he can to ruin Xavier financially, and if that plan fails, then I wouldn’t be surprised if he orders a hit on his own nephew.
What it all boils down to is that we need to know where Dominic’s hiding. To figure that out, I need to get close to someone who’s close to him. Starla Edwards. Starla grew up in the same neighborhood as the rest of us, but her family is good people. She left home at eighteen, breaking Geno’s heart, and has been Dom’s mistress ever since. Dom’s own wife didn’t bat an eyelash when he left New York for Vegas, bringing a barely legal Starla along with him. As long as there’s money in Mrs. Cerelli’s bank account, and she doesn’t have to move out of her classic New York brownstone, she doesn’t give two shits where Dom is or what he does. Or with who. Believe me, she was the first person we talked to.
Starla though, she might be completely aware of where Dom is. So, no matter how much I want to get out of here, I make my way back inside the crowded establishment. Waving a hand at Sebastian, I indicate that I’m moving to a dark table in the corner that’s, by some miracle, empty. He nods and pours a double of the same whiskey I was sipping earlier before turning to speak to someone standing in the dim light beside him.
My breath catches in my throat and my heart stops for an split second before it resumes beating at a thunderous pace when I catch sight of the petite woman working behind the bar. She wasn’t there earlier. There’s no way I would have missed her light, caramel-colored skin and vibrant, multicolored hair. All thoughts of Starla and Dominic slam to the back of my mind when she takes the drink from Sebastian and looks right at me. He’s sending her to deliver my drink.
My gaze doesn’t waver as she moves in my direction, the music and loud din of the crowd fading into the background. I’ve never been so drawn to a woman with only a single glance. Watching her wind through the throng, spangled, hot-as-fuck heels strapped around delicate ankles, has every single cell in my body sitting up and taking notice. I lose sight of her, and subtly shift in my seat somehow missing her even though we’ve never met.
“This for you?” A soft voice twangs beside me, immediately giving away her southern roots. I love it. It’s perfect. She’s perfect. My eyes devour her like it was months rather than seconds that she was out of my sight. My perusal starts at small feet encased in those damn shoes and moves up over slim legs, curvy hips, and a lean waist before lingering for a long moment on her perfect breasts. I don’t waste much time on women, but do I love a nice set of tits. Through the clinging fabric of her dress, I can see that hers are just right. Enough to fill my big hands, but not so much that they overpower her petite frame.