Page 19 of Together We Burn
Movement to her left pulled her from the illusion that it was just us two in the room, a fantasy I knew she imagined alongside me. Martinez walked to the only empty booth in the club, one positioned in front of the main stage, and took a seat.
A girl wearing nothing but a white thong and white nipple tassels scurried up beside him with what looked like a mirror and a credit card on top. She placed it on the table and tried to step away, when he grabbed her by the wrist and tugged her sharply to sit on his lap. Her face paled as he pulled out a small vial of white powder, dusted it down her cleavage, and proceeded to snort it off her skin before running his tongue up her chest, licking every last drop of cocaine from her flesh.
Sitting back, he shoved the girl from him, and she toppled to the floor. Stefany remained impassive as she watched the girl crawl away from the slimeball and his henchmen. Unlike Stefany, I couldn’t keep the sneer off my face as my hands balled at the quiver of the unsuspecting girl’s lip when Martinez’s hand came bearing down on her ass in a slap that could almost be heard over the music.
A wolfish grin drifted across Martinez’s lips as he observed his club, his dancers, and hispropertyuntil his attention landed onmygirl. Desire flared in his eyes as she rolled onto her back and pushed upward, elongating her arms in a reverse plank and curling one leg into her chest.
Her purple hair dusted the ground as she stared at the ceiling, counting the beat until the music ended and her sexy as hell routine with that fucking chair stopped. I pushed away from the wall and slid further into the shadows, not wanting her to find me again. Her mission had started, and she needed to be focused. It was a mistake coming here tonight, but I couldn’t help myself.
Moving to a single table and chair hidden in an alcove, I watched her turn her head to the audience. Stefany scanned the crowd, searching for me.
Concealed in my little recess, I could see the questions buzzing around her pretty little head as she thought she had imagined my presence: What was I doing here? Did I know she would be here too, and if so, how did I find out? Was I still watching?
A girl wearing nothing but a short red apron with the club's logo sidled up to my table with a sultry smile on her red-stained lips. Glancing up, I had to do a double-take–my server looked barely sixteen. She should be in school, not parading topless in front of strangers for money.
Stefany better finish Martinez, the fucker, quickly and painfully.
“Can I get you anything to drink, handsome?” she purred in a way that was surely taught to her, given her young age. She leaned over a little, sticking her chest out so her small tits were right in my eyeline. I couldn’t help the grimace as I took in her childish figure and shook my head no.
It wasn’t the poor girl’s fault this place was run by sick fucks.
With my forearm, I brushed her gently to the side, ensuring the material of the suit jacket was all that touched her.
Now I’d need to burn this suit. Too bad, I liked this one.
With her routine over, a girl joined Stefany on stage to remove the chair, preparing different props the following main stage dancer needed. Taking a bottle of water from the stagehand, Stefany gulped almost half and panted as she got to her feet, about to duck behind the stage curtain, when a burly bouncer halted her steps.
Her face morphed into annoyance, then flirtation, and it didn’t matter that the logical side of my brain understood this was an act. Watching her wrap a strand of that purple wig around her finger as she tried to sidestep the man made the muscles in my jaw twitch.
The bouncer crossed his arms defiantly, and I could see the exhale and slight drop to her shoulders as she sighed at whatever he demanded from her. She walked down the small stairs at the side of the stage and made her way over to the table Martinez and his band of merry fuckers sat.
I caught the attention of a scantily clad waitress with a flick of my hand.
“Whiskey,” I barked, and the girl blanched.
Quickly recovering, she smiled and said, “Any in particular?”
“No.”
“We have ones varying in price, handsome. Perhaps you’d like to see a—”
“It doesn’t fucking matter. Choose the first one that comes to mind,” I snapped, and she flinched like I’d raised my hand to strike her. Her hand shook as she fumbled for her notepad kept in the little pocket of her apron.
Fuck. I’d terrified the poor girl.
I looked toward Stefany as she accepted a glass of something Martinez handed her.
“Please don’t drink that, angel,” I muttered, watching as she discreetly tossed the contents to the ground. The waitress returned with my whiskey, blocking my view as she held out the glass. Turning my attention, I gave thechilda tight-lipped smile and knocked back the alcohol, which was smoother than water. But no amount of liquid gold would settle the pounding in my chest as I continued watching Stefany work.
Like I said, I had no right being here. I shouldn't have come.
Chapter eight
Stevie
Iregardedeachofthe four men flanking Martinez as I took my place at the end of the booth. He was the epitome of arrogance, sitting with both arms sprawled along the back of the booth he occupied like he was invincible.
His greasy blonde hair was slicked back with the distinct comb lines plastering it to his scalp, his hazel eyes were clouded from the drugs he’d snorted, and his clothes screamed wealth. Not the type that subtly showed he could afford nice things, but rather every garment donned by this man was garish and covered in designer insignia—nothing like what Jake would wear.
