* * *
When we walked through the door of the security office on the bottom floor of my club, Delaney stayed tightly pressed against me. My eyes darted all over the room. Jacob did not want to talk about it on the way over, I thought maybe it was because he was being sensitive to Delaney’s feelings but suddenly, my eye fixed on a woman whose face was almost unrecognizable.
“I tried to get to her, as soon as I saw it on the camera. I… tried,” Jacob said with so much pain in his voice.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t get there in time,” he kneeled in front of who I now recognized as one of my private dancers, Twyla.
Jacob had become sweet on Twyla, he’s usually busy with me buton nights like these when he wasn’t needed with me, I found him volunteering to be her protection, usually pissing off whoever Enzo assigned to her room. Twyla was a big tipper. She was one of our top dancers and at the end of the night she was no stingy woman, tipping her guard a good portion of her earnings each night. Jacob claimed it was about the money but what he doesn’t realize is I’m not a cheap man so when the state of the art security cameras revealed each time he turned down her tip and forced her to take it back every time, it became obvious the real reason he wanted to be in that room with her.
Tonight, Jacob wasn’t assigned to her room. Instead I asked that he stay with Enzo to help monitor the cameras. I couldn’t take Lindsey’s warning lightly, despite feeling like she was hiding something – it would be ignorant to just put it aside.
Jacob reached up, pushing strayed hair from the blood that dripped down from her forehead. I pulled a chair out next to the monitors that covered one wall and gestured for Delaney to sit. She surprised me when she shrugged off my jacket and walked over to Twyla and laid it over her shoulders. She kneeled down in front of her and reached for her hand. Twyla looked up to meet her gaze with tears steadily streaming her cheeks mixing with the dried blood that smeared there.
“What is your name, honey?” Delaney whispered softly.
“Twyla Thatcher,” she responded through shaky breaths.
“Twyla, can I help you? Would it be okay to go get you cleaned up?” Delaney asked, waiting patiently for an answer, not at all coming off as pushy or demanding. No one in the room spoke as Delaney took the lead in handling Twyla’s situation with so much care that I’m not sure any one of us men would have been able to muster.
Twyla shook her head and slowly started to rise from her seat. Jacob rushed over from where he stepped back to give Delaney room before, placing his hand on Twyla’s elbow, hoisting her from her seat. Delaney took her hand and guided her out of the security room. I gave Jackson,one of my guards, a pointed look and he quickly followed behind Delaney. Jacob stepped up but I placed my hand on his shoulder.
“Let her go with Delaney. She will take good care of her.”
He lowered his head and took a spot next to me.
“What the fuck happened?” I snapped in Enzo’s direction.
“Well, Twyla’s room was booked out tonight to one man, he was a new name on the roster, but he paid double Twyla’s normal rate and he paid in advance. Of course, with that information, Twyla was thrilled and quick to accept the job.”
“He requested her specifically?” I questioned.
“Yes sir, he said he was referred by another member but was skeptical to give details.” Enzo gave his responses without hesitation, surely expecting my frustration in seeing this violent attack happen in my club.
“Was he approved through Miss Rice?” My anger started to simmer as I picked up on the flaws in our standardized procedure already from my staff.
An important rule is that you never approve a new member to pick their dancer nor are the dancers ever left alone with a new client. Ever. Clients must earn privacy privileges and only at the discretion of that dancer. Even then, the guards must remain within earshot and the security room must be notified of the requested privacy for those attendees. The monitor has one specified guard assigned to it and they are to remain there until that client has paid for the services given by their dancer.
Enzo and Jacob looked at each other.
“So you let some random guy go in that room, alone with Twyla, AND you let him do God knows what to her?!” I yelled the last part, completely engulfed by rage at the lack of proper protocol, but more so because one of my own was badly hurt and we failed to protect her.
“Where is he now?” I asked through gritted teeth, my hands tightlysqueezed into fists at my side. I glanced up to where Enzo was pointing at a monitor.
Not girlfriend, just um…
Delaney
We walked slowly through the halls towards Dallas’ personal quarters. A man that I remembered Lacy calling Jackson tagging along behind us. I tried to maintain a slow and steady pace to keep from rushing her.
When I stopped in front of the door, I realized I didn’t have a key to get in. I bit my lip as I turned to Jackson who eagerly stepped up to open it for me. Twyla stood close by, silent and limp as she held onto me for support.
Once we were safely inside, Jackson explained that he would be on the other side of the door, should we need anything. Closing the door and securing the lock behind us, I walked Twyla slowly over to the sofa. She carefully took a seat.
I went into the bathroom and started to run water in the tub. I grabbed a fluffy towel from the linens closet and left it on the sink along with some washcloths. In the closet I found her a t-shirt andsome sweatpants. They would be loose and breathable on her aching, sensitive body, maybe not so harsh on her cuts and bruises then what I imagined the lacy fabric of her wardrobe that was wet and sticking to her skin.
* * *
She wasn’t in the tub nearly as long as I expected she’d be. When she returned to the main room wearing Dallas’ clothes she looked like a completely different person from who I left in there only a few minutes ago.
