Deliverance (The Maverick Defense #1) (8 page)

More bodies had arrived at Shakers. I recognized a few familiar faces as Donnie guided us to his reserved seating area off to the side of the bar. Outside on the streets of Chancing, life coasted along, but in here, everything was bigger, more lavish … just
more.
Even the dregs of the town who came to forget about their lives had to adhere to Donnie’s strict dress code. It was ironic really that anyone could come to watch girls strip for a few dollars and get high on their drug of choice for the evening as long as they were wearing dress shoes and a shirt. To fresh eyes, Shakers looked every bit the upmarket strip club and bar, but it was all smoke and mirrors.

“Hey, everything good?” Sherri whispered as we joined her and a couple of Donnie’s inner circle in the reserved section.

I gave her a curt nod before sitting down.

“Joy.” Sal half-smiled before lighting up a cigar.

The three men started talking business. Donnie’s hand massaged my knee, his grip firm as I listened to Sherri moan about some of the girls living at her place. I saw her lips moving but heard nothing. I was too lost in my own thoughts. Donnie had seen Dawson. They had been in the same room together.

“Joy, earth to Joy?” Sherri’s eyes bunched together. “I asked if you wanted a drink?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you.”

Donnie barked out, “Three whiskey chasers.”

My head whipped around in his direction. Donnie usually spent the week sober. He caught my reaction and said, “A toast to Beth.” His eyes narrowed waiting for my reaction.

I didn’t give him one. Instead, I turned away and stared out across the room.

The whiskeys kept coming. Between Sherri, Peter, and Sal, they kept Donnie with a permanent drink in his hand. Other people drifted in and out of our section. Business associates, a couple of the girls, Lyla.

I was certain Sherri felt it too, and more than once, we shared a look.

“When’s the new girl going to be ready, Sherri? We could use something new to look at in here. Am I right, Sal?”

My blood boiled and I swung my head around to glare at Donnie. He was drunk. His eyes were glazed and he had a slight sway to him.

“When she’s eighteen, Don. You know my rules,” Sherri said throwing me an apologetic glance.

Donnie leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at Sherri. “Remember who pays your salary.”

Sherri seemed unfazed by Donnie’s warning. She rolled back her shoulders and crossed one of her long legs over the other. “And you ought to remember who runs shit around here for you.”

Sal clasped Donnie on the back. “The boss just wants to keep things fresh. Nothing wrong with that, Sherri.”

She huffed and angled herself away from them. Donnie’s hand landed on my knee again and he leaned in close, his bitter breath lingering on my skin. “Joy, you look too good to waste tonight. You should be on display. I want everyone to know you’re mine and mine alone. Dance for me, baby.”

“Wha-what?” The words just spilled out.

Donnie had made me do some perverse things in the last two years but never had he paraded me in the club. I didn’t dance.

“You heard me. I want you to dance for me, baby.” His hand gripped my knee like a vise. Sherri noticed our exchange and opened her mouth, but I shook my head slightly. Her eyes grew sad, but I didn’t need her pity.

Turning to Donnie so that our mouths were almost touching, I said, “You don’t want everyone to see me, baby. This …” I glanced down at the space between us and back up again, “is only for you.”

Something flickered across his face, and I thought I had reached him, but then it vanished taking my last remaining shreds of dignity with it.

“Get on that fucking stage, Joy. NOW!” he roared, but only our little private party heard him thanks to the thrum of the music and rumble of chatter.

I stood on shaky legs and ran my hands down my dress. Sherri stood up beside me and whispered, “You don’t have to do this, darlin’. Don’t do it.”

We both knew I had no choice. If I didn’t succumb, Donnie would make me pay in other ways. I squeezed my eyes shut. My body craved a hit. That would make the shame and embarrassment less, but tomorrow, I had a shift at the diner. And I needed that job. More than ever, I needed it.

I settled for vodka. Sherri fetched me a double vodka on the rocks, and I drank it down in one, welcoming the fire burning my throat. The walk to the center podium was my own walk down death row. Each step was heavy and laden, like fighting my way through quicksand. People had started to notice my intention, but I ignored their questioning stares. I was in survival mode now.

A commotion somewhere behind me started, but I blocked it out, focusing on the music and the stage. All I had to do was climb the stairs and dance. That was it. I’d pick a point on the far wall and dance to it. For it. But I would not dance for any of the slime balls here tonight. Not even Donnie.

My foot stepped up onto the first step, but the commotion grew louder, and a hand landed on my arm. A man’s voice perforated my bubble.

“Joy.”

B
y the time we left Aunt Marie’s, I was ready to get the hell away from Chancing. Everything was a constant reminder of what a failure I’d been as a son and a brother. All afternoon, I’d heard what a wonderful woman my mother was, which was the God’s honest truth, and how Mikey and I had kept her on her toes. But with every story, I felt a fresh wave of guilt because I hadn’t been there for her, at the end or in the years since I left prison.

After Dad’s visit, the one where he’d pretty much told me not to return to Chancing, well… Lex and I had planned and schemed about life after we were released. It was a given that he would join his dad and brother in their private military company, Maverick Defense. When the day came for my release, Lex and his older brother, Aidan, were waiting for me at the prison gates. Lex leaned against a black Jeep wearing the biggest smile possible, and it almost made up for the fact my own family wasn’t waiting for me. Lex was as good as family.

Once we arrived back at the house, Lex and I collapsed on a chair each while Mikey headed straight for the kitchen. Bottles rattled as he yanked open the fridge and reappeared with a beer for each of us. Flopping down on the sofa, he propped his feet up on the coffee table and tipped his bottle in our direction.

“What do you want to do about the house then?” Mikey asked out of nowhere.

“What?” I straightened and stared at him from across the room.

“It’s ours. Mom left it to both of us.” He shrugged, and I continued to stare at him, unable to comprehend the way his brain worked.

“Seriously? What the fuck, Mikey? We just buried her.”

“Sorry. I’m only asking,” he grumbled and picked up the remote control, flicking on the sports channel. I glared at him, and he concentrated on the TV and ignored me. Lex shifted in his seat and leaned forward.

“So … Shakers tonight?” He looked back and forth between the two of us.

Mikey groaned and tipped his head backward. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said, staring at the ceiling.

“Why not? A night of mindless drinking, and Lex can get his kicks watching some washed-up chick dance on a podium then come home and jerk off.” I grinned and ducked out the way when he threw a cushion in my direction.

“Fuck off.” But he was smiling at my honest assumption.

Holy fuck, why did I agree to this? Mikey said coming to Shakers was a bad fucking idea, but Lex had insisted. He seemed genuinely excited about going, and while I just wanted to go home and sit in the yard in a lawn chair and get trashed, I felt I owed him. After all, I’d dragged him back with me to this hellhole for a funeral of a woman he’d never met. Lex only knew her through the endless stories I used to tell him when we were inside or stationed out in the desert somewhere, craving a bit normality.

From the minute we walked into Shakers, I felt uneasy. It was dressed up to be something special, but if you looked hard enough, it was your typical seedy club, dark and dingy with lots of dark corners to conceal any number of vices. I was on alert the whole time, and I wasn’t the only one. The way Lex’s body tensed as we made our way from the bar to the table to the right of the stage gave away that he was feeling it too. It didn’t help that I couldn’t make out where the exits were, black curtains hung over every doorway and some were tied back with red cord. The place was a health and safety hazard, and I prayed to God that there wasn’t a fire. The only thing identifying what I assumed was exits were the big, bulky security men standing guard.

Mikey trailed behind us, not happy about being here. He’d tried to talk us out of coming, and while I knew the kind of entertainment Shakers provided wasn’t Mikey’s type of thing, I didn’t understand why he was so against us going. Now, I knew why. I wished I’d fucking listened. As confident as I was in Lex and my talent for fighting or talking our way out of dangerous situations, I didn’t want to find out if we could manage it tonight.

When I noticed the girl in the red stand, straighten her dress, and smooth down her hair, I hadn’t paid much attention, just taken another drink of my beer and resumed scanning the dimly lit room. But then she turned and headed for the stage. My heart jumped into my throat, and I froze, the beer bottle halfway from my lips as I stared. Fucking hell, what was Joy doing here? In a place like Shakers? Dressed like that? My eyes cut across to the table where she’d been sitting and my hand dropped, slamming my bottle to the table when I saw who was sitting with her. Donnie DeLuca, there was certainly no love lost between us—not after he left me high and dry when I’d saved his ass. No wonder he looked so fucking smug at the funeral. What in the hell was she doing here with him?

Before I processed what I was doing, I was out my seat and making my way over to the stage. I was vaguely aware of a loud groan coming from Mikey when I stood, but by the time it registered, I had already crossed the club, my feet sticking to the carpet as I strode over to the stage. It was a dumb move, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Every instinct told me to get her out of there before she stepped up on that stage. She didn’t belong up there; she was so much better than that. Something about her body language told me she wasn’t comfortable with it either. Perhaps, it was the tension in her shoulders or the way her hands curled into fists at her side.

All good sense along with everything Maverick Defense had taught me flew out the window, my mantra to think before I act. Fuck that. She was not getting up on that stage. My peripheral vision caught movement; Lex and Mikey were moving out of their seats at the same time as Donnie and two security guys were making their way over to me. Too late. I was at the stage reaching out for her as her foot hit the first step, a slight sway to her gait. My fingertips brushed against her skin; electricity skittered up my arm and shocked me with its force. Her head jerked to look at me, wide eyes clouded with confusion. She wobbled on her skyscraper heels.

“Joy.” At the sound of my voice, she turned to look down in my direction, and her mouth formed a small
o
. Her wide eyes clouded with confusion, replacing the same dull, lifeless look from before.