“Shit, nobody got time for this,” Diesel complains. “Especially when I got a hot stripper waiting for me. On my birthday.”
My heart pounds hard, then thumps in my throat. I’m the hot stripper. Getting my money from Diesel and leaving might be harder than I thought.
“I promise, no more interruptions.” Laughter and back slaps fill the hallway. “Go get your birthday fuck on.”
Especially if he thought he was about to get laid. Had I suddenly been demoted from “ride or die” to “sweet butt”? So much for retrieving my money.
I carefully peek around the alcove. Two of them are still by the back door, but Diesel’s heading up the hallway. A few more steps and he’ll definitely see me, so I duck into the ladies’ room. I’ll wait a few seconds. The others should go back to the party, and by the time Diesel realizes I’m not in the private room and comes looking for me, I’ll be dressed and gone.
Taking my chances of Eduardo catching me has become the lesser of two evils.
I lean against the tile wall of the bathroom, which is probably never used, seeing the clientele is mostly men, and my mind spins. What could Eduardo possibly have to do with these bikers? Whatever it is can’t be good.
Maybe he’s into them for money too, but no. It sounded more like he was late for a meeting. Not a surprise. My mother would tell him an hour before the actual time, and even then he’d be late. No accountability, ever. As much as I still want tosave my twin from whatever mess he’s in now, I have to put me first for once.
Okay, moment of truth.
I ease the door open, slip out into the alcove, press my back against the wall, then peek around the corner.
“Shit!” The same two bikers are still by the back door. One is waving his hand around as if they are in deep conversation. Couldn’t they have their water cooler moment somewhere else? If I wait any longer, Diesel will come looking for me, and I have no intentions of going back in that private room. I have to make a break for it, as they say in the movies.
I gather the robe tighter, glance at the two bikers who are still in deep conversation, then I slip off the stilettos and make a beeline for the dressing room. I push through the door, and a huge palm slaps the door way over my head.
“Goin’ somewhere?”
Without my stilettos on, I almost have to do a back bend to look up at this man with the soulful eyes. Eyes that have the power to see right through me.
“I just wanted to change.”
“I just wanted to have a good time.” He stares down at me. “But I ain’t never had to beg.”
“I’m not known for good times. Screwed-up times, fucked-up times, I’m your girl, so believe me, you’re better off without my brand of trouble.”
A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest. “See now, there you go intriguing me again.”
“Intriguing you?”
“Like before when you were up on stage. At first, I said to Smoke, you looked scared shitless, like you’d never stripped before, then, all of a sudden, you took off like a rocket. Owning that stage and making it yours. You had those guys coming in their pants.”
I wince. “That’s quite a visual.”
“And that’s another thing, you’re fuckin’ funny as shit.” He huffs out another laugh. “What did you say before about needing an interpreter? Fuckin’ priceless.”
“Glad I made you laugh on your birthday, but . . .”
“Look, we need more strippers, and from what I saw tonight, you got what it takes, so if you’re looking for regular work . . .”
“I appreciate the offer, but . . .” Okay, so I was scared shitless up on stage at first, but then the music took over, and something weird happened—my body moved with the beat, and I let the crowd guide me. Truth, it was intoxicating and addicting, like my martial arts competitions—only more, much more.
“C’mon,” Diesel encourages. “The money’s good, and you’d have a following, guaranteed.”
In any other circumstance, in any other world, it would’ve been a hard no, but with no money to my name, on the run from my crazy brother and the cartel . . .
“Let me think about it.”
“Fuck, yeah.”
I didn’t question his meaning because, well, he’s an outlaw biker. I’d get up on stage again and make more money, then hint around about needing a passport. Who better to hook me up than an outlaw? Who knows? This might work out after all.
