I felt terrible for Skye. Girls who worked jobs like ours were single; no man in his right mind would let his mate dance for money. Packs gave women financial security, and I had a feeling she wasn’t a wolf if she was on her own.
I empathized with her situation because she reminded me of a younger version of my own mother. After my papa died when I was just a little girl, my mother worked three jobs until I was old enough to go out on my own. She never judged me for the life I chose and told me everyone has to walk their own path. She died fifteen years ago in a car accident. It’s ludicrous to think how she worked so hard to live a good life, only to have it ripped away because she wasn’t wearing a seat belt. Had she been conscious, she could have shifted and healed, but my mama had slipped into a coma for two days before they removed her from life support. I stayed by her side, destroyed that she had to spend her last days in a human hospital and not in the comfort of her own bed.
“Naya?”
I blinked the memories away. “Yes? I’m sorry. My mind has been skipping all over the place today. I shouldn’t have had wine with my dinner; it always makes me sleepy. Maybe I need to go home early and take a bubble bath.” I rubbed my shoulders and yawned. “Although, I’ve still got a second shift to finish after Daphne.”
“I’ll cover for you,” Skye quickly said. “With the manager, I mean. If Dean asks, I’ll tell him you had an emergency.”
I smiled warmly. “You can have my slot. I’ve already paid for it.” I reached in my locker and slipped on a stretchy black dress that stopped above my knees. “You go out there and bleed their wallets dry for your baby.”
Her smile quickly waned.
I brushed her soft hair away from her shoulders. Skye had a gorgeous smile, so I hated to see the frown in its place and the way she kept fidgeting with the ends of her blue T-shirt.
“What’s wrong, chickypoo? You don’t seem like yourself tonight.”
“It’s nothing. It’s—”
“Yes, it’s something. Tell Naya what’s wrong.”
She rubbed the side of her nose. “I don’t know. I think someone’s been following me. Maybe it’s my overactive imagination running rampant again. Do you think it’s possible one of the guys out there could be stalking me?”
I sighed and let my arms fall to my sides. “It’s been known to happen with a few of our more delusional customers. They get fixated on a perception of who they think we are and sometimes cross the line. Are you armed?”
Her thin brows arched high enough that they could have touched her hairline.
“Honey, take this.” I reached in my purse and pulled out a small cylindrical container. “It’s just pepper spray, but that’s enough for you to get your point across. Whatever your animal is, she’ll protect you if it’s anything more than a lovesick puppy. I’ve had a few in my time, but most are harmless men who just get a little starstruck. Trust your instinct. If something doesn’t feel right, then don’t go out alone. This job comes with risks.”
She held the bottle of spray and examined the writing. “What about you?”
“I just keep it for show. You need it more than I do. Knock ’em dead tonight.”
I kissed her on the cheek and glanced back as I walked out the door. Skye waved at me with a cautious smile that left me uneasy.
Young girls like her always had admirers, and they were too inexperienced to know how to handle men. In the past year, Dean had gradually been working her in, but she didn’t get as much stage time as the rest of us. Skye needed a mentor to help her toughen up so the customers didn’t walk all over her. Now that I knew about her baby girl, I wanted to help her even more. Maybe the mother-hen syndrome happens to women like me who’ve been working in clubs for decades, but I’d never met anyone as na?ve as Skye and so wrong for a place like this. Most dancers didn’t have a family, pack, or someone to look out for us. We were nomads in a savage world.
And those who are alone are always the ones who need the most protection.
***