Page 6 of Madness

“I got it, David.” Tessa slipped her heels back on before she turned to me and grabbed my shoulders. “They’re bad news. Stay as far away from them as you can. Promise me? Kincaid Collins, promise me.”

“Okay, I promise.” I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. I knew that much already. I didn’t need her to tell me. The danger in the air around them was like a physical force. I’d have to be stupid or dead not to feel it. She pushed past me and made her way onto the stage.

I took a deep breath and headed back out into the club. I checked on all my tables again. I successfully avoided a guy who tried to grab my ass and turned down another with a gold band on his finger. Gold band or not, I had no interest in dating anyone I met at the club. Not that I was that interested in dating at all.

My last several boyfriends had been duds. I didn’t know if I was picking the wrong men or if I was just meant to be alone. Some people were. I wasn’t sure I had the mental capacity to deal with another person and their problems. I was dealing with enough of my own.

My chest tightened as I thought about the bills that still needed to be paid. I’d shuffled some around, but soon the notices would have ‘final’ stamped on them. The overwhelming responsibility pressed down on me. Sometimes I just wanted to walk away from it all. Leave my life behind and start over.

I wished I was in one of the romance novels I read. Where was my sexy billionaire who would whisk me away? Take all my problems and solve them. Treat me like a queen and give me everything I asked for.

Getting lost in those stories was the only time the pressure on my chest eased. Suspending reality, even for the few hours I read, made it possible to keep moving forward. To keep putting one foot in front of the other. If I gave in to the dark thoughts in my head, I might never make it out. Some days I didn’t want to.

I sighed. That was part of the reason I shouldn’t put all the blame for my failed relationships on the men. My books might have given me some high expectations. Even as I thought it, I knew it was a lie. I was a lie. I lied about my desires. It was hard to get someone off when they wouldn’t tell you what they wanted. But I couldn’t.

I could never reveal what I really wanted. How twisted I really was.

“Kitty.” Rodney, the manager, called my name over the music. He was another of the things I didn’t like about working here. Trying to keep his hands off me was like fighting an octopus; there was always one more tentacle trying to latch on. But I put up with it for the same reason we all did; we needed the money.

I moved to the bar where he was standing. Precious, the bartender, filled my tray as I waited for Rodney to tell me why he called me over. He was thirty-five, ten years older than me, with light brown hair that was receding. He wasn’t overweight, but he wasn’t in shape either. He had a hooked nose and yellow teeth. I crossed my arms over my chest to try and hide from him as his eyes roamed over my body.

I intentionally wore less flashy clothes than the other waitresses. My skirt stopped at mid-thigh, and tights covered my legs. My tank barely showed cleavage, and I always wore my hair up. I didn’t put on make-up either. I wanted to fall into the background. I didn’t want to be flirted with, even if it meant I got fewer tips. But none of that deterred my boss.

“You look good tonight.” His mouth twisted into a lecherous smile as he looked at me. “You need to check on the private room again.”

I held back the groan that wanted to escape my lips. “Can’t someone else do it? I’m really busy—“

“They specifically asked for you. You’ll be working that room exclusively all night.”

My heart dropped to my feet. “What? But I need the tips.”

“Would you rather not have a job?” He sneered. He loved to hold the threat of firing us over our heads. “Those men own the club. If they want you, they get you. Don’t make trouble.”

The club owners? Did Tessa know that? Was that what she was trying to tell me? These men held my job in their hands. Shit, I didn’t want to play nice with them. Well, one of them in particular.

“I got it.” I lifted the tray full of drinks. I could feel Rodney watching me as I walked away, and my skin crawled.

Another man had watched me walk away tonight, but it hadn’t felt like this. I didn’t want to admit I felt it at all. But I had. His eyes burned my skin just like his touch.

The sound of the music pulsed through my veins. My eyes flicked to the private room. Only two guys were standing outside it now, which meant some of the men had left. But not all of them.

My breath caught in my throat the closer I walked to the room. I tried to calm myself down. He was just a man. I could handle him like I handled the rest of the idiots who came in here.

One of the men peeled away from the wall and approached me. His tattooed hand came to my shoulder to stop me. He had been in the room earlier. He was the more muscular of the two guarding the door, but there was something else about his presence. A calm. I had no doubt he was just as dangerous as the rest of them, but it felt like he had restraint. The others were like caged animals attacking the bars while he prowled in the background, waiting for an opportunity to pounce.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

His height towered over me, and his gray eyes were almost black as he looked at me. His hair was just as dark and buzzed short. He might have been easy to look at if it wasn’t for the aura of danger. He had a handsome face with a strong jaw.

But I wasn’t going to let him think he scared me. “My job. I was asked to check on the guests in the private room.”

He stared at me for another second, and it felt like he was trying to read my thoughts. Good luck, even I don’t want them in my head. “Where’s Trixie?”

I pointed to the stage where she was stripping off the leather bustier, revealing a sheer red bra. He looked in that direction. His face seemed to go stone still. I would have missed the tiny tick in his jaw if I wasn’t standing so close.

Maybe they preferred her. Most men did. It didn’t bother me. In fact, I would’ve preferred if she was taking care of them. But apparently, I had no choice. Not if I wanted to eat this week.

“Can I do my job now?”