Ihand over the folder but avoid his gaze.
Ever since the accident, I’ve had trouble looking him in the eye. I don’t know if it’s because a part of me, and not a small part, blames him for Travis dying. He did die doing a job for Lucas, after all.
Or it could be how much interest he’s been paying me over the last three years since I turned eighteen.
That could definitely be it.
When Travis died, he seemed to take it as a chance to take care of me. He was all over me at the funeral, comforting me in the only way he knew how. By exuding his power to anyone who came close to me.
But when it became clear that I didn’t reciprocate those feelings, nor was I thankful for his attention and care during the hardest time of my life, he promptly told me I now owed my debt as well as Travis’s. That his death wasn’t enough to wipe the slate clean.
I could have killed him that day. Hell, I almost did. But between my three broken ribs, fractured wrist, and cracked hip bone from the accident, I couldn’t pull a knife fast enough before Cain, his personal security, could restrain me.
“You got this quick,” Lucas comments as he flicks through the manila folder. I took photos of all the documents for my own records, but he doesn’t need to know that. Now that I’m on my own, I like to have insurance if shit goes south. I’m not going down on my own.
I shrug. “It was easy.”
I reposition on the uncomfortable couch in Lucas’s office at the club.
A strip club, naturally.
I don’t know why he insists on having meetings with me here, but I have a feeling it has something to do with rubbing my face in the fact I rejected him because one of the girls always comes in halfway through and perches in his lap behind the desk.
If only he knew I relaxed every time it happens because it means he’s not going to make a move on me.
As if I’ve conjured her, a tall blonde woman with big blue eyes and tits that are way too round to be natural struts in. She’s wearing a gold bikini that leaves nothing to the imagination, and heels that make my ankles hurt to look at. She crosses the room, paying me no mind as she sits herself on the edge of the desk in front of Lucas.
I barely catch my eyes before they roll into the back of my head at the weak power move he thinks he’s making.
Men are the worst, and you can’t convince me otherwise.
“Can I go?” I ask, keeping my tone bored and even.
“I have another job for you,” he tells me, and I lean back into the filthy maroon fabric. God, I hate this place so fucking much.
“Okay, what do you need me to do?”
“I need you to work tonight.”
“Sure. What job is it?”
“No, you misunderstand me.” He peers at me around the leggy blonde. “I need you to work here tonight.”
I open my mouth to argue but quickly snap it shut again, not because I’m going to agree to it, but because he’s honestly rendered me speechless with this one.
“That’s not part of the deal.” I finally force the words out.
“I don’t care.” He shrugs. “The deal changed when Travis died. I can’t see why it can’t change again. I’m a girl short for tonight, and you’ll be filling in.”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“It wasn’t a question, darling. It was an order.” Smugness rolls off him in waves as he runs a hand up the blonde’s thigh. “And unless you have a couple hundred grand sitting around to pay off your debt, you’ll do as you’re told.”
I press my eyes closed for a beat, trying desperately to get control of my own emotions. I’m not worried about crying in front of this son of a bitch, but I am worried about killing him in cold blood with more than one witness.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve considered it. If Lucas died, I’d be free of my debt. Or at least I would be in theory. It would give me enough time to get out of LA, maybe even the country, if I could swing it. It’s unlikely that I would be one of their first suspects. He’s pissed off half of LA at one point or another, but it wouldn’t take them long to figure it out.
I force my focus back to the moment, pushing down the murderous thoughts. “I can’t tonight. I have something I need to do.”