The girls had witnessed the tail end of our conversation, and I’d told them every detail in the car. Amaya swore profusely, calling him some very colorful names. Harlow mostly laughed, amused that someone was getting a rise out of me. Mena didn’t like that he’d said mean things to me, but in the same breath she hoped he was adjusting to a new school OK.
I still hadn’t decided what to do about him, but as I pushed through the rusty metal door, thoughts of the infuriating guy melted away. Instead, the pumping bass sent chills of anticipation down my spine.
I paused in the entrance area only long enough to slip a fifty to Anton—the burly bouncer whom I had a standing arrangement with. Not that Davey’s was that strict with checking IDs anyway. Anton was paid for his discretion as much as for my entry. He gave me a nod, tucked the bill away, and readjusted himself on his stool. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him crack a smile.
The Davey’s clientele was as questionable as the stale trail mix they served up at the bar, but I didn’t come here for stimulating conversation or to meet my future husband. I came here to have fun—to let the loud music and edge of danger drive all other thoughts from my mind.
I swayed my hips to the music as I made my way through the middle of the room, checking out who was on the dance floor. A lot of bikers hung out here, drug dealers, hookers—basically unpredictable people with questionable morals. People who made a thrilling jolt of fear race down my spine.
When I reached the bar, I wedged myself between a couple of bikers and a prostitute named Gina (she’d spilled her whole life story to me on one of my previous visits but had no memory of it or me—so I didn’t bother saying hello). I stuck my ass out, crossing my booted feet at the ankles and arching my back. My gaze stayed forward, but I could practically feel hungry male eyes caressing my curves.
Three busy bartenders were working the bar, but luckily Bea spotted me first.
“Hey, girl.” She greeted me with a fist bump. Bea was in her thirties, had dreadlocks and a penchant for leather vests, and took shit from no one. “Usual?”
“Yes, please.” I gave her a genuine grin. We’d never spoken much beyond that exact exchange, but just like Anton, I had an understanding with Bea.
She dropped a glass of what looked like vodka and soda in front of me, but it was actually just soda. Even when I ordered an alcoholic drink in front of other people, Bea knew not to serve me alcohol, and she knew to keep her mouth shut about our agreement. I slipped her a fifty as I paid for the drink, and she gave me a wink before moving on to take the next order.
I was here because it made me feel alive. I didn’t actually have a death wish. There was no way I was going to risk getting intoxicated in this crowd.
I turned to lean back against the bar, sipping my drink as I scanned the room. There were a few guys with potential. I liked the ones who were taller than me in my heels. I didn’t really care what color his hair was, what his voice sounded like. I hardly even bothered with his name half the time. But he had to be strong, confident, with some intensity simmering around the edges. He had to be the one to approach me.
The boys at my school couldn’t handle me. But these lowlifes—these criminals with dark pasts and nothing to lose—they could handle me in the best, most depraved ways.
That’s why they had to be older. How could they handle me if they couldn’t handle themselves? Even so, I still never went for anyone who looked older than late twenties. I had control issues, not daddy issues.
In the bathrooms, in their cars, against the rough brick at the back of the building. One guy had even taken me to the back of the parking lot and bent me over his vintage Mustang. That was a fun night . . .
I never hooked up with the same guy twice, and I never let them think they could get more than one night of fun—not that any of them were interested in anything serious.
As my gaze wandered the crowd, I spotted the only man I’d ever slept with more than once.
I knew him only as Shady—yes, I was sleeping with someone who went by Shady, which pretty much told you all you needed to know about him. Not that he ever told me what his “business” was, but he was at Davey’s a lot, all the staff knew him, and he was always talking to some new face.
Like right now. Shady was standing with his shoulders slouched, one hand holding a drink and the other in the pocket of his tracksuit pants, talking to someone in a very expensive suit who looked as if he didn’t want to be there.
When the suit walked away, I sauntered over.
“Donna.” He smirked at me from under his baseball hat. He only knew me as Donna.
I pressed myself against his side and brought my lips to his ear. “Hey. You busy tonight?” I made my intentions perfectly clear by giving his ear a little bite.
He groaned and gripped my hip.
Shady wasn’t my usual type. He was only a little taller than me, and while he was lean and fit underneath those ridiculous tracksuits, he wasn’t the size of a fridge. But he had the dominant confidence—bordering on cockiness—in spades. And his cock was huge.
“I wish I could, Donnie baby,” he answered, and my face fell. “But I got some important business I gotta take care of tonight. If you’re still around after close . . .”
But I was already shaking my head. I was never there that long. I couldn’t risk getting home too late.
“Next time.” I winked at him and walked away, making sure to sway my hips a little extra as I moved to the center of the dance floor.
He’d send me a bunch of texts later, telling me what he wanted to do to me. I was already looking forward to the thrill of reading them—a little slice of danger in my normal, clean life.
I didn’t always pick up when I came to Davey’s. Sometimes I just wanted to dance, to thrash out my frustration with the world on the sticky floors. Sometimes I liked to sit in a corner and people-watch, wondering what these people’s lives were like. Were they easier than mine? Harder? What secrets did they have?
As I walked away from Shady, I had a feeling no one would approach me tonight. Sometimes, when he was in a shit-stirring mood, I thought maybe Shady made sure no one approached me. I didn’t know if he was actually possessive or if he just liked to fuck with me, but I didn’t care either way. If anything, it amused me. And I refused to give him the satisfaction of my reaction.
I rolled out of bed sometime after ten the next day—a good three hours later than my usual wake-up time. Harlow was still at tennis, and Mom liked to sleep in and have breakfast brought to her in bed when Dad was away. He was more active, like Harlow, and usually dragged Mom out to the pool or for a walk in the mornings.
The house was silent as I made my way downstairs, yawning and enjoying the fact that no one was around to make me feel as if I had to cover my mouth.
The hour alone before Harlow got back from tennis was the only peace I had all weekend. Mom got up not long after, just as Dad returned from his work trip and insisted on a family lunch.
I spent Saturday night at Amaya’s with the girls. We stayed up late, watched movies, gossiped—and discussed the Hendrix topic ad nauseam.
“God.” Amaya groaned, letting her phone drop to the couch next to her. “That is the sixth text I’ve gotten from a basic bitch fishing for info on the new guy. Do your own damn research!”