I didn’t mean to say it to piss off Killian but damn, did it do the trick. His eyes narrow, face stilling and that smirk twisting his lips turns into something grotesque. A true Reaper of Death coming to collect a soul for a misdeed—the misdeed being someone having Maeve thatisn’thim.
Standing, she nods. “Fine. But no one goes in to see Dom. I want more time.”
“I’ll send Simon in to patch him up.” The clan doctor will do whatever he can to keep Dom limping along. Until Maeve’s finished with him.
She leaves through the doors and I move to block as Killian tries to follow.
Glaring, he demands, “Move.”
“And let you follow her?” I shake my head, grinning. “Not a chance, reaper.”
“Don’t stand in my way when it comes to her,Prince,” he drawls, chests brushing. The look of a calculating murderer stares back at me and I stand taller, ready for what’s next. “You’ll regret it.”
Tilting my head, brown locks kissing against my jaw, I wink. “You almost sound like you have a right to her.” The smile drops from my face. “Only warning: stay away from her.”
Now his grin grows and the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. “Or, what?” His eyes flicker over me, assessing the threat I am, biting his bottom lip in thought. “Maeve could go into the underworld and I would still find her,Prince. You can’t stop me.”
He moves again and I’m hit with the scent of mint and leather. “I’ve healed things, seen things your little mind would weep to know.” A shadow of something vicious covers his eyes before it disappears. “So drop the cock blocking fuckingattitudeandmoveout of my way.”
“You think that’s what this is?” I scoff, running a hand over my beard. “I’ve seen the strongest woman fall to her knees because youleft. I’ll be damned if I let her be hurt like that again, with possible assassination attempts and Bruno’s quest for power going on. She’s been through too much to allow you to destroy heragain.”
He looks as if I’ve sucker punched him.Good. I hope it hurts.
Turning, I flip him off, heading to my weekly Saturday night adventure, knowing full well Killian Linwood won’t listen to a damn thing I say.
Because Killian is a dog with a bone, and Maeve is the only obsession he’s ever had. He won’t leave, and he’ll make my life a living hell. Just because I dared to come between him and his prize.
2
COLLINS
PRESENT DAY
The stage is encased in black as the velvet curtains hold back the flashing red and blue lights from my eyes. The high-pitch ringing in my ears is broken by the booming voice introducing me over the sound system. The words are muffled but I count, holding my breath.
A woman who only recently started, grabs my hand, smiling wide. She thinks she’s pepping me up, helping me with stage fright. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I crave the stage more than I do the shadows I’m in.
Out there, I can be Topaz and no one else. Not the daughter of a mobster, not the sister to the newest Captain, not the sick, broken kid I was at ten.
The curtains pull back, momentarily blinding me, but I’m used to it. This isn’t my first dance atTheDock, nor will it be my last. Jutting out a hip, long blue pleather boots glinting under the flickering lights, I pout my pink glossed lips and wait for the music to begin.
The beat is steady, thumping from the soles of my boots, to my skinny knees, up my thick, pale thighs, to my emancipated stomach and small chest. Here, I don’t have to look in the mirror and hate what I see, picking out all my flaws, or listen to that voice that whispers my past sins.
Here, I put on my boots, my vibrant blue wig, and wait for my adoring fans.
Before long, the music reaches the height I expect, and I grab the pole with two hands. Swinging up, I lift my legs, wrapping them around the top, my core engaged. There’s a delicious burn, as my muscles contract and I smirk. The crowd starts to cheer, knowing full well this isn’t what they truly want.
I can do acrobatics all day, but what they want is for me to lose my sparkling blue and white top and bottoms. That’ll come soon enough. I still have two more songs in my set.
Dismounting, I flip over the air, boots gripping to the smooth black stage as I bend over. I can’t see anything past my platform, the worn-in grooves and the sea of black behind me. It makes it easy to think I’m alone, performing for myself, but I know that isn’t right.
I knowhe’sout there. The one man who comes every Saturday to watch my show. Bastard does it to bother me, but I won’t let him taint this. I want the attention, the adoration, and the lustful gazes. I want someone to want my body becauseIcertainly don’t.
Does it add a bit of the taboo, knowing my sister’s best friend, the man who annoys me to no end, is out there? That he’s seen my naked body, lusted over it like all the rest? That I know, he never looks away?Absolutely.
My legs cross, and I grab the bar from behind, throwing my body up as my arms strain. But I lock my legs, making sure not to shake and cross my ankles to hold myself upside down, backarching. Thunderous shouts ring out, money being thrown on to the bottom ledge.
He’s smiling over a glass right now, eyes burning into my face. He’s the only one to look there, to watch my emotions as if he has any right to them. He does it to unnerve me, the absolute prick, but I ignore it. I twirl, smiling wide, lips sensual. This show unnerves him too.
