I smirked. Abby would eat him alive. She owned the strip club where I worked, and she looked out for her girls. She knew that this asshole had roughed up Cherry last night in a private room, and she was pissed.
“You do that.” I gave him a cold smile as I put the sunglasses back on my face. “I dare you.”
The sound of a police siren cut off any reply he might have given and I stepped away from the man as the cop car came shooting down the street, nearly mowing down a kid whose dad was too distracted to pay attention. It stopped right behind my bike, blocking the driveway, and two uniformed officers stepped out.
They got here quick, but it wouldn’t surprise me if they’d been called before I laid a hand on John. Just having a biker in the neighborhood was enough to make some of these people reach for the phone.
“Remember what I said,” I growled at John. “This was a warning, a little payback. If you show up at the club and hurt one of the girls again, I guarantee you’ll end up in the hospital.”
Fear flickered across John’s face, and I was satisfied that he got the message. Raising my hands into the air, I complied with the cops, allowing myself to be patted down and handcuffed without incident. I wasn’t packing any heat today, knowing that this might happen. As I was put into the back of the police car, I saw John answering questions while holding a rag up to his still-bleeding nose. I hoped it hurt.
When Cherry came out of the private room last night, she’d gone straight backstage without saying anything, which was why I’d allowed the man to leave. It wasn’t until one of the other girls came and got me because she was crying in the dressing room that I found out he’d gotten violent with her when she refused to have sex with him. The girls were strippers only. It was a part of the club rules. If theywantedto exchange sex for money, it had to happen outside. Abby covered her ass that way.
John didn’t go as far as to force her, but he did push her around and slap her face. I could see the bruise on her cheekbone when we talked. Abby wanted to light his ass on fire, but I talked her into letting me take care of it.
So I had. A trip downtown to lockup was worth it.
I settled into the backseat of the cop car, trying to get as comfortable as I could with my hands cuffed behind my back. There were even more neighbors outside now, a group of lookie-loos that needed something to gossip about for the rest of the day.
They could speculate all they wanted, painting me as a bad guy that had attacked one of their upstanding citizens. I didn’t care. I knew who I was and what was important to me. If I had to, I’d do it again. The man needed to be taught a lesson.
Sabrina
“Where are you going?”
I stopped dead in my tracks, just a couple feet away from the front door. I’dalmostgotten away without a lecture.
Biting back a sigh, I turned around to see my mother standing at the foot of the stairs. She scanned my outfit and makeup-free face, not bothering to hide her disapproval at my appearance. Not surprising. According to Virginia Barnett, sneakers wereonlyfor the gym, and I’d never even seen her in a pair of jeans.
“To the soup kitchen,” I said, exasperated. It was the same place I went every Friday and Saturday afternoon. That was when they had the least volunteers, but I didn’t mind spending my weekend there. I also went a couple of times during the week when they needed help.
She frowned. “You’re still doing that? Why?”
“Did you need something from me?” I asked.
It was easier to get straight to the point, instead of trying once again to explain to her why I spent my time feeding people in need. If she didn’t get it by now, she never would. The strange thing was that she was the one who’d introduced me to the place, but for her, it was just a photo opportunity. Taking pictures of my whole family serving meals around Christmas time last year had painted the perfect heartwarming image. The media didn’t need to know that I was the only member of my family that actually cared about helping these people. All they needed to see was a senator with his seemingly perfect family giving back to the people whose votes he needed in the election at the end of the year.
“Well, I was hoping to get some help planning the dinner party next week. This is important, you know. Some of the biggest contributors to your father’s campaign will be there.”
“It’s just a dinner party, Mom. How much is there to really plan?”
Her eyebrows popped and she crossed her arms over her chest.Great, I’ve made her mad.
“That’s quite an attitude you have there. I guess I’ll just do everything myself then. Plan the menu, pick a signature cocktail, take care of décor…” She trailed off and turned away from me, as if hiding her face. “I just thought it would be nice to do it together.”
And there it was. The guilt trip.
If there was one thing my parents both excelled at—other than refusing to factor my own happiness into their expectations for me—it was making me feel guilty anytime I didn’t fall in line with what they wanted. The twisted part was that I knew they were doing it, but I still let myself give in to the detrimental feeling that they provoked. I knew I shouldn’t let them play me like that, but they were myparents. I wanted to make them proud of me. The sad thing was, I wasn’t sure that I ever had.
“Okay, Mom. I’m sorry. I’ll help you plan the dinner party. Maybe we can go shopping for new dresses together tomorrow? But right now, I’ve got to go to the soup kitchen. They’re expecting me.”
“That’s fine, I guess,” she agreed, letting out a long-suffering sigh.
I felt a flicker of annoyance. I’d given in to what she wanted, and I was still the bad guy because I was going to feed the poor. It was maddening.
“I’ll be home later,” I said, purposely being vague. My best friend, Lacey, wanted me to come by her place when I was done in the soup kitchen. My parents didn’t necessarily approve of her, she was too free-spirited for them, so I didn’t mention it.
Leaving the house, I drove my Lexus across town, watching as the houses changed from the grand manors of the neighborhood where I lived with my parents to more modest homes and eventually neglected houses and empty lots. The soup kitchen was nestled in the center of the seediest part of La Playa.
