This gets my eyes, but only for a second. “They aren’t my problem anymore.”
Jonah leans in. “Killer thinks they didn’t want to cancel. He thinks they were forced to.”
“No, he’s wrong. He’s just a love-happy little prick who doesn’t know better. He thinks women are all soft and fucking sweet, and that they’re not conniving little bitches who act loyal and devoted until they’re forced to choose. They pretend to be strong, and fake it until they get me to believe I’m safe… and loved. Then turn on my ass. Ratting me out and kicking my * ass to the curb.” I hurl my empty beer bottle across the room, and it shatters against a wall.
The stripper on stage startles, and a bouncer makes his way over to me, only to get waved off by Jonah.
Raven grabs my forearm. “Not everything’s as it seems, Blake.”
I jerk out of her hold.
“Blake, man.” Jonah moves closer, but doesn’t touch me. “Calm the fuck down.”
“I’m not saying what she did is right,” Raven says. “But is it possible that she sent you away because she loves you?”
Yeah, just like my mom snitched on me because she loves me? I laugh without a hint of humor. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense, and you know it.”
“Can’t you see? She’s sacrificing herself for you.”
“You don’t know her.”
“I don’t have to know her. I know love. And love makes you welcome torture if that means keeping the person you love safe.”
I swivel my body so that I’m facing Raven head on. “Safe? I’m a six-foot-two, hundred and ninety-pound jiu-jitsu black belt. You think I need a tiny woman to keep me safe? That’s the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Blake,” Jonah warns.
I slump back in my chair, thinking this has turned into the most jacked-up day. Amazing how I could wake up with plans for the best night of my life, and now I’m here having to listen to this bullshit when all I want to do is be left alone with my lap dance. Fuck.
“So that’s it. You’re just gonna give up?” Raven sounds pissed.
“Yup.” I don’t want to give up. But what choice do I have? She kicked me out and threatened to call the cops.
“Huh.” She shrugs. “Have it your way.” Her eyes move to Jonah. “Let’s go check on her.”
My head jerks in their direction before I can stop it. “Check on who?”
Jonah stands. “Layla and Axelle. Killer’s meeting us there. He’s pretty worried. I guess Axelle’s dad is a real asshole.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Cool.” I sit back and pretend to watch the stripper. “Have fun.”
Raven frowns down at me. “Catch ya later, Blake. And uh… happy Valentine’s Day.”
I give them a chin lift, and they disappear behind me. Raven’s words about love replay in my head. “Bullshit,” I mumble to no one. “All of it.”
My throat is dry, and I swallow hard against the feeling of failure. I promised her I’d protect her, but how can I if she won’t let me? I can’t go busting into her life unwanted and stand guard like some psycho. No, I’ve allowed that girl too much of my brain space. She kicked me out. She let me go. Jonah will make sure she’s okay.
The warm weight of the stripper’s long, tan leg slides across my lap until she’s straddled over my thighs. “All set, Snake.”
Fire burns in my sternum. “Don’t call me that.”
She flinches. “What do you want me to call you?” Her hands trail up my arms and lock behind my neck.
My hands move on their own up her thighs to her hips. “How about we don’t talk at all.”
A soft smile curves her lips before she leans in and touches them to mine. I don’t kiss her back, but allow the soft feminine flesh of her mouth and her tits mold against me. It doesn’t feel horrible. Her hips grind down, searching.
She backs off my lap with a breathy moan and takes my hand. I follow where she leads me, away from public viewing and into a private room. A place where I’m hoping to forget the man I’d become and celebrate the return of who I once was.
Twenty-eight
Layla
Axelle and I changed out of our dresses and heels, not bothering to hang them up, but rather leaving them crumpled on the floor in our rooms. All the time we put into tonight, the money spent, the effort exerted, now piled in a sloppy mess.
We’ve been watching television while Stewart makes calls. He’s gone from barking into the phone to laughing to back to sounding pissed all night.
After he told us we’re checking into a hotel tomorrow so the movers can come pack up our stuff and take us back to Seattle, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get out of it. I need a plan, but I’m coming up empty.