Page 53 of Blood Revealed

The lights stay down until I’ve gathered all the money the men have tossed on the stage and run off. I pluck my robe from the chair where I left it before heading back to the dressing room.

All I do is stage dance. I’m good at it, but also, the thought of lap dances scares me. The thought of getting that close to a man I don’t know reminds me too much of the life I barely escaped. Plus, even if I wouldn’t let him claim me, I’ve been in love with Raif for years and it didn’t seem right to get that intimate—even if only dancing and with clothes on—with a man who wasn’t Raif.

At the end of the night, I’ve cleaned up with the tips. The men reacted to the new dance exactly as I knew they would. I shower and dress in my regular street clothes, my tips locked in my locker along with my purse until I’m ready to leave.

The bouncers are responsible for walking us to our cars at night, making sure all the dancers especially, but the waitstaff, too, get home safely. It’s almost 3a.m.before I’m able to get going. The prospect opens the gate for me when I reach the compound and I am so ready for my nice, warm bed.

I send Raif a quick text to let him know I’m home. Apparently, that was a mistake. His response comes back immediately.

Raif:Where were you at?

Me:Just got home from work.

Raif:WTF?

Me:I’m sorry?

Raif:We’re married. You’re done at the club.

Wait—what? It’s what I’ve done for seven years. I don’t have any other skills. I never even graduated from high school.

Me:Raif

Raif:Talking when I get home. Too pissed now.

No goodnight. He simply stops texting. What exactly did I do wrong? He’s the one who helped me get a job dancing in the first place. Whatever. I don’t have the headspace tonight to deal with his drama. I’m tired. As we’re legally bound, I’m assuming we’ll talk once he gets back.

I change into my nightie and climb into bed. I lie there for what seems like forever, my brain not getting the memo that I’m tired and don’t have the headspace to deal with Raif’s issues.

Eventually, I do doze off, but it’s a fitful sleep that has me tossing and turning the entire night. A constant back-and-forth of my eyes popping open and drifting shut until the light begins to skim the darkness and I call it, getting up to get on with my day.

My first instinct is to go make food for the brothers until I remember that A. the brothers are gone right now, and B. it’s not my job any longer. I cooked and cleaned for the brothers in return for a safe place to stay. Now that I’m an old lady, I don’t have to do shit for the other men anymore, though I will still sometimes because I care about these lunkheads.

After splashing water on my face and pulling on a pair of black leggings and an oversized sweater, I slip on a pair of ballet flats, throw my hair back in a ponytail, and go search out food.

It’s too quiet in the clubhouse. Only the other hot mamas who live here semi-permanently lope around, getting on with their days. Most of them either work at the club with me—they’re still sleeping like I should be—or have day jobs.

I whip together a breakfast casserole of eggs, cheese, and hash browns, wrap foil over the top, and take it over to my sister’s place mostly to check on her, but if I’m being honest, it’s to have company, too, because that conversation with Raif still bothers me.

Two knocks. Three knocks. On the fourth, a bleary-eyed Brinley answers the door. It looks like I woke her up—oops. She has work anyway. I lift the casserole pan and give her a sheepish grin. “I brought a gift.”

Brin sighs and steps out of the way. “I’ll start the coffee,” she says.

It’ll take a few minutes for her oven to heat to temperature. While we wait, the coffee drips into the carafe, filling the space with the dark roasted aroma. When the red light on the oven blinks off, signifying it’s ready, I slide the casserole onto the middle rack, shut the oven door, and turn to see my sister holding out a large mug of steaming brew for me.

“How’re you feeling?” I ask. “Sorry I woke you up, by the way.”

“It’s all right. I have to get ready for work anyhow. Feeling better, actually. The morning sickness seems to be easing, which is good because I’m hungry all the freaking time now.”

I shrug. “You’re growing a person. I’m going to guess that burns calories.”

She chuckles. “You’d think I was a glass china doll; I mean, Levi won’t let me do anything—except in the bedroom. It’s to the point that I’m starting to feel useless.”

“Who would’ve thought?” I ask, though not really asking. “You must have magic in your vagina.”

“Hey!” She shoves me while laughing.

I give her my big ‘what?’ eyes.

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