Page 51 of Born into Blood

“Say that one more time.” He hears the barely controlled rage in my voice and narrows his eyes at me, trying to not look affected, but I can see the first spark of fear ignite and start to take hold.

“And you are?”

“Luka Melnikov.”

“Fuck,” he whispers, sitting back in his chair and rethinking his attitude. “I didn’t know.”

“And that’s why you’re still breathing,” I tell him.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Lara give me a quick look, but she remembers what I told her and doesn’t say anything.

Good fucking girl.

There’s one chair in front of his desk, and I’m not about to put my girl’s ass on it, so I sit down and pull her onto my lap, resting one hand on her thigh and giving it a soft squeeze to let her know everything is okay.

“Do you remember a woman named Chloe Daniels?”

Lou sighs and looks back at Lara, but it’s not in the pervy way he’d just used to size her up. It’s more like he’s searching his mind for a memory.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, reaching for the pack of gum that’s sitting on his desk. He opens a stick with shaky fingers and shoves it into his mouth. He motions his hand at the overflowing ashtray. “I’m trying to quit,” he says, like I give a shit. When I make no attempt to congratulate him on trying to better his health, he leans back in his chair and gestures to Lara. “You’re her daughter, aren’t you? You look a lot like her.”

Lara looks at me, waiting for permission to speak, and against all odds, my cock starts to stiffen. Her eyes widen slightly, just enough for me to know that she feels me pressing against her ass. I give a soft nod and keep a firm grip on her thigh.

She turns back to Lou. “My mom danced here?”

“Yeah, for twelve years, until she got pregnant with you.”

I can tell Lara is stunned by the news, and I quickly wrap my arm around her waist, reminding her that I’m here and that she’s not alone. She grips my hand, and asks, “Can you tell me what happened?”

Lou hesitates, looking to me for confirmation.

“Tell her everything you know.”

He keeps his eyes on mine. “Even if she doesn’t like it? Even if it involves your family?”

I don’t like being at a disadvantage, and not knowing what the fuck happened twenty years ago is annoying as fuck. I hide my irritation and say, “Everything, no matter what.”

Lou scratches at his jaw and chews his gum faster. “Chloe was a good girl. I don’t know much about her background, but I knew her home life must’ve been shit for her to come work at a place like this, but that’s not unusual.” He gives a raspy laugh. “I mean, you don’t end up shaking your tits in this dump if you have a supportive, loving family.”

We don’t say anything because he’s not wrong. This is an end-of-the-line kind of job, a desperate choice for women who have already tried every other option.

“Chloe was sweet, but she’s the type who never stops believing in fairytales, and no good ever comes from that, not in my experience at least. She was always waiting for some guy to come in and take her away from all this, save the day and ride off into the sunset with her. It never happened. She’d get her hopes up, believe the lies that men told her, and then get her heart broken time and time again.”

“Was my dad one of those guys?” Lara asks. Her voice is soft, way too gentle and pure for this dirty room and for this vile man.

“Your dad was the worst of them. He would come to the club, and your mom would take him to the back room.” He brings his eyes to mine again. “Are you sure you want me to tell everything?”

I hook a finger under Lara’s chin, gently turning her face to mine. “Are you sure you want to hear this? We can leave if you want.”

She grips my wrist. “No, please. I need to hear this.”

I run my thumb along her cheek, savoring the touch before letting her go and nodding at Lou. If she wants to hear it, then she’s going to hear it, but if I feel like it’s too much, I’m taking her out of here, even if I have to throw her over my shoulder to do it.

Lou sighs, letting us both know he’s not thrilled about having to be the one to deliver this particular history lesson. He fidgets with the pack of gum, eyeing the ashtray with a longing that reminds me of the men we’d walked past to get here. They’d been ogling that poor woman’s tits the same way he’s eyeing those old cigarette butts.

“Out with it, Lou. The less time we spend here, the better.”

My words break his I really wish I had a cigarette trance, and he forces his eyes back to ours.

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