Page 56 of Dance of Devils
“Stop,” I growl. “I’ve been boxing for longer than you’ve been alive.” I nod my chin at her eye. “Thatis not from a fall. That’s a punch. And you’re going to tell me who the fuck threw it.”
She pales, wetting her lips nervously.
I soften my tone as best I can. “Was it someone at work? Your other work, I mean.” She stiffens. “Brooklyn?—”
“I need that job, okay?” she says hoarsely. “It was just an accident.”
“Tell me theaccident’sfucking name,” I growl.
“Please.”
I don’t enjoy it, but I force myself to ignore the pleading tone in her voice and not see the desperation in her eyes. I understand that Brooklyn’s financial situation is bad right now, I really do. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting this go.
“Please, just?—”
“Where else do you work, Brooklyn.”
Her face scrunches up, her lip retreating between her teeth.
“Tell me.”
Her eyes drop to the floor between us.
“I…I cocktail waitress at a club,” she says quietly.
“Which. One.”
Her brow caves, her eyes still glued to the floor. “Please...”
“Just tell me where?—”
“Look,” she snaps, looking up at me. “I know you never have to worry about where your next custom-tailored suit comes from, or how you're going to pay for it. But I have that worry beforeevery fucking meal.” Her chin thrusts out defiantly and proudly. “I can handle myself.”
“And you can give me the name of the club, or I can follow you for as long as it takes, until I figure it out.”
Her face falls. Again, I soften my voice.
“I won’t get you in trouble with your employer. That’s not my goal. But you’re going to tell me the name of this place, Brooklyn.”
She looks down at her hands.
“The Mirage, in Greenpoint.”
My brows knit. “That’s…”
Fucking hell.
Viciousness growls inside me when the penny drops.
“I just waitress there,” she blurts. “Please. I really, really need?—”
“I won’t do a thing to jeopardize your job.”
I lift her chin with the back of my knuckles, bringing her eyes to mine. She looks so alone right now. So at the mercy of the world. It brings out this compulsion in me to shield her from anything and everything.
…Starting with whoever thefucklaid hands on her at that fucking place.
“I wasn’t lying before, Brooklyn,” I say quietly. “I do understand what it means to be desperate. To go hungry. More than you know.” I take a deep breath. “Go home. We’ll begin again tomorrow after your rehearsal day is done.”
