Chapter 2
Cambria
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Six hundred and twenty, six hundred sixty, seven hundred. Thank fuck.
I flip through the bundle of cash in the ‘employee lounge’ with my feet kicked up on the table in front of me and tipping my chair back on two legs. Really, it’s just a room big enough to store our shit and a few of us to eat on break, but people have long since stopped storing anything valuable in here.
I know, I was surprised too.
The bass is muffled behind the door, but I can still swing one of my feet in time with the beat. It may sound like nothing beyond noise to some people, but I love it. It’s dramatic, heavy, and I can’t think when it’s blasting. All I can do is let it take over my body and dance until I can barely stand, let alone focus on all of the shit in my life. There’s something to be said about mindless pleasure, and I embrace the concept like there’s no tomorrow. It’s never promised for the best of them, and even less so for someone like me.
The door slams open behind me and I tip my head back to view the world upside down while stuffing the money into my bra. It’s not the first time somebody got their panties in a twist with me around, and honestly, I’m still shocked I haven’t gotten my ass beaten for it yet.
The club owner puts up with me because I draw in a heavy crowd that pads his pockets, so he doesn’t care if I skim some from the sheep as long as it isn’t from him. But the occasional person that’s far too sober for this place isn’t as kind. Typically, I just duck out after and avoid all of the drama, but I needed to make sure I had enough tonight before I left, since it’s already past my deadline.
That, and there’s something about the dark haired, stoic man that’s making my powers agitated. Not in a bad way, but an unsettling one I haven’t encountered before. And let’s be real, I’m a sucker for a good mystery.
The three men storm into the room wearing various expressions of pissed off and amused, like they can’t decide what they’re supposed to be feeling. Not unusual, I get that a lot, but with the way one of them is glaring at me, I send up a silent thanks that Jax is due to go on break any minute in case I run into trouble.
“Cambria,” the hostile one scolds, and I hate him just a little bit for talking that way to a person he doesn’t even know.
I’ve heard enough of that tone in my life; I don’t deserve it from a man I’ve never met. Where does he get off deciding how I should behave? I mean sure, I stole his credit card, but I only boughtonedrink with it. And gave it back! Really, he should be grateful.
“In the flesh,” I goad, continuing to tap my foot to the rhythm and feigning calm.
“Fork ‘em over,” tall, dark, and trouble calmly demands, strutting up beside his angry friend and jutting out his hand.
I slip the other two cards out of my back pocket and slap them into his palm without a fight. “No need to be so upset. How else was a girl supposed to get your attention in this place?”
He pauses, confused and taken aback, but the blonde snorts. “Dude, she’s playing you.” He grabs his card and stuffs it back in his wallet. “Pretty girls will say whatever they can to get away with shit.”
He motherfuckin’ didn’t.
Getting to my feet, I count to three so that I won’t lose control and do something I may or may not regret. If I go by which man took which card back, it's Lucien that steps in to try and regain control over the situation.
“Don’t be difficult because you got caught. You should expect things like this to happen. If you managed your money better, you wouldn’t need to steal,” he chastises.
I change my mind. I don’t care if Iamcurious about what’s making my powers agitated, these three can kindly fuck right off.
Atlas runs a hand through his shaggy dark hair. It ends up sticking every which way in a haphazard mess as he backs down, looking nervous. “L, let’s just call this one a wash and go home.”
Dorian interjects before I can formulate a seething retort, too focused on wanting to knock Lucien on his ass. “Sure, she might not be what we were expecting, but we’ve handled worse situations. It worked out well enough, so let’s just head back out there.”
Bet these three are real lucky with the ladies with all of the garbage spewing out of their mouths. I wonder if they know what kind of assholes they sound like or if they even care.
I don’t bother opening my mouth because I’m a lady. If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. And these three fucktwats would be in for a litany of ‘not nice’ if I attempted it right now.
