I could’ve crowed with happiness, but I had more important things to think about. Before I made my way to the bar, I was drawn to the left.
Two women with gorgeous bodies swung around provocatively on poles, dressed in nothing but little scraps of material covering their privates. The blonde woman had glitter pasties stuck to her nipples. The redhead’s nipples were pierced.
Ah. I got it then.
“We don’t get a lot of ladies down here.”
My cheeks turned bright pink as men hollered up at the dancing girls. My gut rolled. The bouncer must have thought I was a complete pervert.
I pulled my hair over my face to hide my flaming cheeks and found an empty bar stool in the corner of the room, hidden from light. It was the perfect place to search for the man who would help feed me.
My eyes scanned the room through the dim lighting of the club. There were too many of them. I’d have to get closer.
I stayed by my stool a while before I made my move. My heart raced as anxiety took over me. I took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. My back ramrod straight, I would find my savior right here, in this very room.
I just didn’t know what he looked like yet.
***
Lev
I was drawn to her immediately. Intrigue held me captive.
My brow furrowed as I watched her. What was she doing in a place like this? It was clear she didn’t belong here.
By the look of her, she didn’t belong quite anywhere. She was so small her black coat was at least three sizes too big, and the way she covered her face with her long dark hair was so childlike that my chest hurt.
That was new. It surprised me. I wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad, but it made me take a step toward her.
I managed to spot one doe-like eye peeping through her hair as she stared openly at the girls on stage. Obviously, she hadn’t come to see dancing girls. From the shock on her face, she didn’t know Bleeding Hearts was a strip joint.
Reaching up, she moved to cover her face with her hair once more before she lowered her head and scurried along to the dark side of the bar. It pleased me that she chose that spot. It was the spot I normally sat. Warmth spread through my torso.
The club was almost at capacity. As news of Paolo’s death carried, Sasha spread the word that he would be opening the club to friends and family. No cover charge. Drinks were on the house.
This, of course, meant that my keen eyesight would have to be keener tonight. Sasha didn’t like trouble. I kept trouble from arising.
The girls behind the bar served customers, smiles pasted onto their faces, even though they would be worked to the bone. The tips would be worth the straying hands and ogling eyes.
Sasha came out from behind the door. His eyes met mine almost instantly and he jerked his chin at me in greeting. I returned it.
When I was younger, Sasha taught me it was rude to ignore a greeting. I was never any good at taking cues from other people. Conversation was painful. I didn’t like to speak unless spoken to, and even then, I would rarely talk unless a question was asked.
My brother was a hard man, but he was also patient. And growing up with me was not easy, I was sure. He never raised his voice to me, even when I was told I was being unreasonable. He was kind and understanding, and he explained things to me in a way I would understand.
I was six years old when my parents realized something was wrong with me. Our family dog, Mishka, ran out into the road and was hit by car. When my father told me she hadn’t survived, I simply nodded then ran upstairs to my room to process.
That was where I was found, hours later, covered in blood after slamming my head into my bedroom wall, over and over. My father rushed me to the emergency room. I’d opened the side of my head to the bone. They stitched me up, but still, I didn’t cry.