Page 2 of Uncover Me (Men of Inked 4)
“I’m going to get the fuck out of here. I’ve had my fill of pussy tonight,” I said, finishing off my beer and sticking the pack of cigarettes back under my sleeve. Standing, I looked around the room and turned to Rebel. “Have a fun night, brother.” Then I squeezed his shoulder, walked away, and headed for the door.
I stepped outside into the cool air of a March evening and peered up at the sky. I wanted to be home, back in Tampa with my family. Tomorrow would be Sunday dinner and everyone would be gathered around my parents’ table.
I wanted that life back. My life.
As I climbed on my bike and headed back to the motel, I wanted to call James and see how things had gone with Izzy. I needed to know that he had been able to get as far away from here as possible and that there were no problems.
The spring air chilled my skin as I drove the back roads of Daytona toward the fleabag motel and my bed for the night. I was ready to ditch this damn town and head back to HQ.
The life might be fucked up, but I had a new normal, a new rhythm I had grown accustomed to. Any change in the routine made me antsy.
I didn’t trust any of the motherfuckers in this town. Each club was out for themselves. I didn’t give a fuck about their clubs or their wrongdoings. My main goal was bringing down the Sun Devils and, by association, the Vipers, and getting home in one piece.
Staying alive was the name of the game.
Chapter 2
Months had passed since Daytona. The time was drawing near for me to leave this town and her behind. Sitting at the back of the club, I kept my eyes fixed on Roxy. She didn’t belong in a place like this. In her mid-twenties, she was stuck in a dead-end life with no escape. Her face was sad, the sparkle long evaporated from her eyes. Her long, dark auburn hair grazed her waist as she danced on stage, swaying against her skin, drawing me in, and putting me in a trance. My heart ached as I watched her.
She was beautiful—stunning, actually—but I knew she was capable of so much more. I’d spent many nights with her. When she was wrapped in my arms, lulled into tranquility, she shared her dreams with me as her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to be mine, but I couldn’t do it. Asking her to be my old lady didn’t feel fair. I wasn’t a lifer.
She had been born into this life and given no other option. She would be a club whore or old lady and dance at the club. College was out of the picture after finishing high school. She knew her role, and like a good girl, she lived up to their expectations.
She was the one person I could be myself around. When we were tucked away in my room, tangled in my sheets, I could let my guard down, show my sweeter side. It was the only time in my miserable club existence where I felt whole. Roxy would wrap me in her goodness and make the day seem a little bit better.
Sometimes, guilt would creep in when I would think about the future—hers and mine. What would happen to her after the bust? The MC would be in chaos and I would be gone. The strippers depended on the support and protection of the MC, and the business would be in disarray. She was the type of girl who would land on her feet, but where would she even begin on that journey without the club to fall back on?
I pushed the thoughts of the future away, focusing instead on the present. Her long legs hugged the pole as “Beg for It” by Iggy Azalea blared through the sound system. I sucked on my cigarette, letting the haze of smoke cloud my view and give it a dreamlike quality.
She was of average build, not strung out and thin like most of the cokehead whores in the club—a rare good girl trapped in a life she didn’t want. Her hips were lush, meeting the curve of her waist.
I had to block the voices of the men who were screaming obscene words in her direction and wanting to lay their hands on what was rightfully mine. It turned my stomach, making me feel the need to rescue her from the stage and hide her away from the world—but it wasn’t my place.
She wasn’t mine. No matter how badly I wanted her to be, I couldn’t be a prick and ruin her life with my lies.
As her set ended, she bent down to gather the money that had been thrown on stage. Men began to whistle, hurling curse words like they were compliments as she scurried off, clutching the bills to her chest.
She knew I was here—I’d caught her eye halfway through her routine. I knew she’d be out to find me once she had a few minutes to collect herself.
Tonight, I needed her in my bed. The last couple of days had been shitty, so I needed to feel her to remind me why I was here. Feeling the good helped spur me forward and give me purpose when dealing with the bad.
I turned around, not wanting to watch the next girl on stage, concentrated on my beer, and took another drag of my cigarette. Minutes later, small fingers tangled in my hair, sending shivers down my spine.
Turning, I took in the sight of Roxy. “Hey, beautiful.” I groaned, her fingers on my skin driving me close to the edge. Once I’d stubbed out my smoke, I swiveled around on the stool.
“Hey yourself, handsome. Nice to see you’re back in town.” She smiled, her teeth shining as the corners of her mouth almost kissed her eyes. But it quickly evaporated as she looked over my shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Rox?” I gripped the back of her neck as I cupped her cheek.
She grimaced, averting her eyes from whatever had made her smile disappear. “Just a bad night, but it’s better now that you’re here.” Slowly, her eyes rose, meeting mine as a small grin spread across her face. “I want to get lost in you. Please say I can be yours, even if only for a night.” Her blinking eyes dropped to my mouth.
Digging my fingers into the nape of her neck, I brought her lips to mine. “I can make you forget.” Then I nipped at her mouth, dragging my tongue along her soft flesh.
Tiny moans escaped her as she melted into me, standing between my legs as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Blue,” she whispered, with pleading eyes. “I want to run away and leave this place behind.”
Releasing her lips, I searched her face, trying to read her sincerity. “Angel, what’s got you so down today?”
She sighed, placing her forehead against mine.
“Tell me what happened.”
“I don’t want you to get mad,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
“Out with it, sweetheart,” I replied, grabbing her by the waist and easing her off me. “You know I always have your back.”
Swallowing hard, she stared at the floor and clasped her fingers together. “Well,” she started, and shook her head. “There’s this one creep that comes in here. He’s not with the MC, but he won’t leave me alone.”
I could feel my blood begin to pump faster before my heart followed suit. Through gritted teeth, I asked, “What. Did. He. Do?” I punctuated each word, trying to keep my voice low.
“He’s always in here when I work. I don’t know, Blue. I keep thinking I see him other places. I swear I saw him outside my apartment the other day.” She slowly brought her eyes to mine.
“What else?” So help me God, I wanted to kill the motherfucker.
Roxy might take her clothes off, but she wasn’t a bad girl. She was the sweetest person I knew.
“He’s sent me flowers. They were unsigned, but I knew it was him. When I see him, I get the fucking willies.” She gripped my shoulder, squeezing it tightly in her hands. “He scares me,” she confessed, blowing out a quick breath.
“Do you have his name?” My breathing was harsh, as I was ready to lose my shit.
I shouldn’t have been bothered with shit that happened at the club, especially to a woman associated with the MC. This wasn’t my real life. It was a façade and would soon be in the past, but I couldn’t be a complete prick. I liked Roxy too much to not protect her.
“What are you going to do, Blue?” Her grasp tightened on my shoulder as her eyes stared behind me.
“Is he here?” I asked, pushing her away before I climbed to my feet and looked down at her.
She nodded, her frown growing severe as she fidgeted with her fingers. “Just
make him leave me alone. Don’t hurt him, though.”
Most women—and I use that term loosely—who worked here would want me to get rid of him, but not Roxy. I don’t mean she was a pushover or a weak woman—not by any means. She was tough as nails and could handle her own in most cases. Working in a sleazy strip club made that a necessity. If you were shy or weak, it could be spotted a mile away, and everything with a dick would exploit it to their advantage.
“Roxy,” I growled, peering into her eyes. “I’ll do whatever I need to if it keeps you safe.” Then I placed a light kiss on her forehead, letting the small strands of red hair tickle my nose. She didn’t speak as she leaned into my kiss. “Just point him out and I’ll take care of him.”
She pulled back, looking around me toward the bar. “He’s sitting over there, staring at us. He’s wearing the baseball hat.”
He didn’t take his eyes off us. Prick had balls, I’d give him that much.
