Page 15 of Fang
“Because you were assaulted.”
Cami scoffs. “I’m fine. I need to dance. If I don’t, I won’t make money.”
“How much would you make for the rest of the night?”
A little line forms between her eyebrows, and she shrugs. “I don’t know, probably a grand. Why?”
Leaning forward, I pull the money bag out of my back pocket. Opening it, I rifle through and grab some bills.
“Take it,” I say, holding the stack of cash out to her.
She eyes the money like it’s going to bite her. “No.”
“You’re going to take it and go home. Take the night off. Hell, go study or do whatever the fuck it is a college kid does. I don’t give a fuck. You just can’t stay here.”
Standing, I walk toward her and push the money into her hand and drag her out of the chair.
“What are you doing?”
I ignore her question and push her toward the door. When the door opens, Happy pushes off the wall as he looks at us.
“Make sure she gets home okay,” I tell him.
“I’m not going home.”
Happy and I ignore her protests. “You got it, boss.”
Cami huffs but gives up on staying. She marches down the hall, full of attitude that I’d love to spank the fuck out of her.
Sighing, I head toward the safe in my office and open it. I pull out a grand and replace it in the money bag. Once that’s done, I grab the bag of cash for the club and head out.
While I’d love to be the one to make sure she gets home okay, I have other things to do. Like make sure the cash makes it to the bank before it’s too late.
My nerves are shot.
After the incident yesterday at the club, I’ve not been able to relax. I wish I didn’t have such hang-ups when it comes to violence, but I do.
It’s weird how the mind works. I can strip my clothes off in front of dozens of men without a sweat, but let one of those men throw a fist, and I’m a mess.
Dear old Barbara sure fucked me up real good and made my brain relation violence to her. All the beatings I had to endure because her customers’ eyes lingered on me a little too long. The number of those same men who would attempt to visit me after Barbara passed out should have made stripping nearly impossible for me, but for some reason it doesn’t. It’s like they never got to hurt me in any real way, so I can compartmentalize that trauma.
Not the same with Barbara and her fists.
I remember once she beat me because a guy she had over saw something that made him ask her if she had a daughter. Of course that was my fault.
Shaking my thoughts away, I try to focus back on my book.
The goal of hospitality management systems is to…
I hope Fang won’t fire me. He said he wouldn’t, but I saw the look on his face. He was angry about the situation. I wish I could have stopped it or at least convinced him it wasn’t serious, but I couldn’t. He sent me home. I feel guilty that I took the money he thrust at me. I wish I could be more prideful and truly reject it.
Unfortunately a missed shift means not getting my car insurance paid or tuition or room and board.
No, I had to accept the charity.
“Look at who we have here,” Zak whispers as he slides across the table from me.
My body is on high alert. We are at a back table in the library. One where no one will see us. The only saving grace I have is that if I scream, everyone will hear.
