So Trashy (Bad Boy Next Door Book 2) (9 page)

I watch the mirror. Fucking Thugs. You’d think they were the
ones stalking me and not the paparazzi.

Fuck it. They’ll just have to keep up. I white knuckle the
hand grips, pushing my old bike to its limits. Next time I go somewhere, we’re
pulling the fucking bike on a trailer—my new bike, the one with all the power.

Damn her. My gut simmers as I burn up the road toward
Slidell. When she said she was starting her new job, I thought she meant a
different
job. What the fuck is she thinking? And working for that douche, Lonnie Fisher?

I hit the parking lot, skidding to a stop. I jump from my
bike, pulling my helmet from my head as I yank open the door to the club. It
takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dark penetrated by beams of flashing
lights. It’s enough to give someone a fucking seizure.

The place is packed. Good, maybe they won’t notice me. I
doubt very much Lonnie’s going to welcome me, especially after last time.

A blonde approaches, running her fingers along my arm. “Can
I get you a drink?”

I give a slight shake of my head. “No, thanks. Maybe you can
help me though.”

“Sure, Sugar.” She shimmies a bit closer. “Hey, do I know
you? You look like someone I know.”

Well, if she was here a couple of days ago, she might
remember me. But, maybe she’s seen one of my movies. Time to put this fame
thing to good use for a change.

I grin. “You might recognize me. I’m an actor.”

Her eyes narrow. “Yeah, sure. Slidell, Louisiana’s a hot
spot for celebrities to get a little R&R.”

“No, really. I’m Buck Wylder.”

She looks at my offered hand, and her eyes grow wide. Her
jaw drops just before she throws her hands over her mouth and jumps up and
down, squealing. Her tits bounce; the sheer top she wears does nothing to
conceal them. But that’s good, it draws my eye to her nametag.

I give her a second before I touch her elbow. “So, Cindy, can
you keep this on the DL? I don’t want to cause a scene. I’m just looking for a
friend, her name’s Lou—no, I mean, Honey. I think she works here.”

She fans her face. “It
is
you, isn’t it? Holy cow!”

“My friend? Do you know if she’s here?”

“I’m not sure, the wait staff doesn’t mingle too much with
the dancers. But I’ll go ask.”

I slide a bill from my wallet and press it into her hand.
“No. Don’t ask. Just go take a look; if you see any new girls, ask their name.
Don’t tell her I’m here. I want to surprise her.”

She peeks at the money in her grasp, a big smile sliding to
her lips. “Sure thing, Sugar.”

I find a dark corner to wait for Cindy to come back and tell
me if my suspicions are true. My gut wrenches as the music cranks up for the
next dancer. When the girl who comes onto the stage isn’t Lou, I breathe a sigh
of relief.

The idea of her taking off her clothes for other guys is
enough to give me a fucking aneurism. The Lou in my mind doesn’t mesh with the
hot mess from the other day. I can’t stand the thought of men ogling her
beautiful skin, of her shaking her ass for someone else.

My brain knows she’s moved on from the relationship she and
I had years ago. But I guess I never really thought about her moving on to have
relationships with other guys. And I sure as hell never thought I’d see the day
when she’d take her clothes off for strangers.

Especially after the bullshit her mom pulled.

It was the tail end of Lou’s junior year of high school.
I was a senior, and, miracle of all miracles, I was about to graduate. I’d
given her a phone, because her mom wouldn’t pay for one. I made enough at my
job that it wasn’t a big deal to add a second phone to my plan. Not like I was going
to attend college and needed to save every penny. And with all the shit she put
up with from Lonnie and those douche bags he hung out with, I felt better
knowing Lou could call if she needed me.

I’d pulled into the parking lot at the SuperMart, just in
time for my shift. My phone vibrated. I slammed my door as I dug it from my
pocket.

“Hey, Lou, I’m just getting to work. I’ll call you later,
okay?”

The voice was strained as it whispered. “Mom’s lost it.”

I looked at the screen. Surely this was someone else, not
Lou. What the hell?

“Lou? Is that you?”

A gasp was followed by pop and a howl of pain.

“Get in that room, you ungrateful bitch.”

Fuck. That was definitely Lou’s mom, Candace.

“Lou, you there?” My blood curdled.

“Who’re you calling? That boy? You think he can help you?
You think he cares about you? You stupid girl, no one cares about you. He wants
the same thing D’Jon wants, that pussy.”

“Momma, no!”

The connection crackled, and my heart thumped as I pulled
the door of my truck open and jumped in. “Where are you, Lou?”

“Gimme that damned phone.”

“Momma, please!” Lou’s voice hit a high pitch on the last
word.

“I said get in your room!” The phone went dead.

I hit the gas and sped toward Lou’s house.

I slammed on the breaks and threw it into park. I didn’t
even turn the engine off before I ran into the house.

A touch to my arm pulls me from my second darkest memory. The
day my mom died was the first. I swipe a hand across my face.

“Hey, Sugar. She’s in the back. She’ll be on stage in about
twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to figure out how to get her
to come with me instead of stepping on that stage.

My stomach crawls, pushing on my lungs, making it almost
impossible to breathe. I have to give a lap dance to fucking Lonnie Fisher, the
worst reminder of everything I was trying to leave behind when I left the first
time. But, this dance has to happen before he’ll let me take the stage.

The stage I can handle. I mean, there are enough lights and
enough people that it seems so much less personal.

Sassie—damn, I hate having to remember to call Sadie
that—tells me lap dances get easier when you see how much money you make from
them. Supposedly, that’s where I’ll make my real income.

Well, fine. I’ll just pretend Fisher isn’t the same shithead
who called me names, asked the most inappropriate questions in the library, and
leered at me every time we passed in the halls. He was two years ahead of me. I
was never so glad to say goodbye to a graduating class, so I could finally get
some peace.

I’m sure Buck was happy too. He got in a lot less fights
after Lonnie left campus. There was still the occasional guy who looked at me funny
or laughed at the wrong time. Buck always took offense on my behalf faster and
more often than I ever did.

Hell, I knew what I was. Loula Mae Fontaine: daughter of the
town’s dirtiest, low-down, white trash. Loula Mae Fontaine: not even good
enough to be considered
white
trash. According to the people in this small
town, with their even smaller minds, my daddy was too dark to be with my white
momma—or so I was told. Hell, for all I know, he could’ve been a dark-skinned
Martian. I never even laid eyes on him or saw so much as a photo.

I fluff my hair and dab on a bit more lip-gloss.

Maybe I can pretend Lonnie is one of the guys from my unit, I’m
fully dressed, and we’re all playing around, being ridiculous out by the fire
pit. Just have to get my head on straight. I can do this. For Aunt Delores, I
will
do this.

The music thumps through my chest. I shake out my hands.
Taking in one last clean breath before I have to defile myself on Lonnie
Fisher’s fucking lap, I push through the curtains dividing the back hallway
from the individual rooms reserved for lap dances and private parties.

Thank God the lights are low. Maybe I can get through this
if I don’t see his fucking face.

I swish my way across the room to Lonnie. He waits in the
chair, leaning back, all comfortable and relaxed. The exact opposite of me. I
cross behind the chair, and run my hand along his shoulder.

That’s surprising; more muscle than I’d have thought. My
fingers tip-toe down his arm as I move around to the front of the chair. I turn
and put my ass to him, shaking it for all I’m worth. I have to get him to approve
me so I can get on that stage and start making some money.

A large hand lands on my ass. I spin back, and smack him
away. “No. No. No. No touching.”

I lean forward to give him an eyeful of my breasts as they
almost spill out of the little bra trying to contain them. As my face comes
close to his, my mistake almost knocks me over.

I trip. “
You’re
not Lonnie.”

“Fuck no, I’m not that douche. So glad you noticed.” Buck
stands, pulling me into his arms.

I struggle against him. “Let go. What are you doing here?”

He walks me backward until I’m trapped between him and the
wall. “I’m here to take you home.”

“The
hell
you are.” I try to struggle out of his
arms, but he’s got brute strength on me.

So, I’ll just have to take him with the element of surprise.
I tuck closer to the wall, pulling back before I lunge forward and head butt him.
Pain flashes through my forehead.

He steps away as he covers his face, bending over. “Fuck,
Lou!”

He straightens, pinching the bridge of his nose and slinging
blood off his other hand.

One of Buck’s bodyguards leans into the room with a
questioning look. Buck shoos him out with a wave of his free hand and a shake
of his head.

“What is it with you, Buck? You
do
know I’m a grown
woman now, not some little teenager you can make decisions for, right?”

“Make decisions?” His voice has a weird nasal quality,
reminding me of when he got his nose broken all those years ago.

“Yes! You and your pretty face and steady voice, sounding all
reasonable and shit.” I deepen my tone. “Climb this tree, Lou. Come with me,
Lou. Move in with Delores, Lou. Go to college, Lou. Get over m—”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

I let out a short breath. “I’m a big girl now. I take care
of myself. ”

“By getting naked for guys you don’t know?”

“Fuck you. We get an ass shot of you every time you climb
out of some tramp’s bed on the big screen. You get naked for hundreds of
thousands of people you don’t know.”

“That’s not the same.”

The urge to smack him runs to my fist. “No. I guess not. My
naked ass doesn’t pay quite as much as yours does.”

He steeples his hands over his nose and jerks. The crack it
makes as he adjusts his septum drives through me like a stake. I flinch.

“Is that all this is about? The money?”

If I roll my eyes any harder they’d fall out onto the floor.
“Of course, it’s about the money. You think I
want
to take my clothes
off for a bunch of sweaty guys and end up in their spank banks as their go-to
every time they want to rub their Johnson and get their rocks off?”

He drops to sit in the chair, leaning his head back. “Why
didn’t you just ask me? I have money—plenty of money.”

“I wouldn’t ask you for a thing. Your obligation to me is
over. You made that clear when you left and never called.” I massage the ache
between my eyes.

He tosses me a glance, his frown etching lines around his
mouth. “How much do you think you’re gonna make working here?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just go, so I can actually make some
money. I can’t do that in this room with
you
.”

He tilts his head to the side, biting his bottom lip like he
used to do when he was working out a problem. “Not here. But you
can
make money with me. I’ll pay you triple what Sadie makes in a week.”

I heave a sigh, shaking my head. “What’s your deal? You
don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me? Newsflash, Jackass:
I’ve
been
had. You might’ve popped the cherry, but I passed out pieces
of pie to half the battalion before I finished my first year as a Marine.”

His eyebrows shoot up and his jaw falls open.

Exasperation floods me. “Oh, close your damned mouth, Buck. You
didn’t think I’d stay all chaste waiting on your ass, did you? Besides, it’s
not as though you’ve been the model of morality these last few years.”

He stands, hands at his hips. “You want to hear my proposition
or not?”

The curtains wait for me to push through them, to go my own
way, to make this work on my own.

But
three times
the amount Sadie makes? That would sure
as hell pay for the repairs on Aunt Delores’s house a lot quicker, freeing me
up to get on with my life.

“Fine. What do you want?”

His big hands close around my hips, and he pulls me close.
“Like I told you before—I just want
you
. I want
all
of you.”