His Stripper by Darcy Rose, Isabella Starling

16

Myles

In my line of business, I’m used to dealing with the scum of society, but Randy is a particular kind of prick I’ve never liked. Lucky for him, he has been a good employee for my family. Brings me a cut of the money he makes from selling drugs twice a month without ever missing it.

We walk up to my office to have a glass of scotch like we do every time. He grabs an envelope of cash from the inside of his pocket and throws it on my desk before sitting down. I pour us both a glass, hoping he leaves quickly so I can get back to Hazel.

“Sales are good this week. You are going to be very pleased with your cut.” Randy smiles at me as I hand him his glass, flashing me his yellow teeth in the process.

“Glad to hear that.” I take my seat behind my desk and grab the envelope. It seems the same size as it’s always been, so maybe Randy and I have different visions of what a good cut looks like. I pull out the bills and start counting. “A hundred more than normal.”

Randy grins like he’s expecting a gold medal, and I almost roll my eyes at him.

“So, since I did well this week, maybe I can get one of your girls to give me a lap dance on the house?” And that’s why I don’t like this motherfucker. Always asking me for shit.

Nevertheless, keeping employees happy is good for business, and a lap dance won’t cost me anything. “Sure, let me know which girl, and I’ll send her back to a private room.”

“How about your new hostess? I’d like to see those tits up close.”

Restraint has never been my strong suit, and right now, it takes every ounce of the little bit I do possess not to strangle Randy where he sits.

“She’s off-limits,” I grit through clenched teeth, but Randy keeps pushing, like the idiot he is.

“I won’t tell anyone. I just want to get my hands on Hazel for a dance—”

As soon as Hazel’s name comes out of his filthy mouth, I see red. I’m out of my chair and across the desk in a split second. Randy tries to stand, but I’m already on him, pounding my fists into his shocked face.

“You don’t say her fucking name!” I spit in his face between punches.

His feeble attempts to protect himself are laughable, and before I know it, he is on the ground and curled up like a fucking baby. Worthless piece of shit.

Somehow, I manage to stop my attack even though every fiber in my body tells me to end him. The only thing that makes me stop is knowing Ace would never let me hear the end of it. Too many people saw Randy walk in. He needs to walk out of here one way or the other.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He keeps apologizing, but that shit falls on deaf ears. I don’t give a shit about his apologies.

“Get up, asshole.”

He scrambles to his feet, covering the side of his face with one hand. His nose is bloody and probably broken, his lip is split, and his eyes are starting to swell up.

“I’m sorry, Myles. I don’t want any trouble with you guys…”

“Save it, and get out of my office. Go out the back door, and if I ever hear you say her name again, I will gut you and feed your own intestine to you.” Even with his face beaten and bruised, I can see the terror written all over it, and I seriously wonder if he is about to piss himself in my office. “Get out!”

“I will… I mean… I will get out, but I won’t say her name. I-I won’t ever do it a-again, I swear,” he stutters and scurries away from me with his hands up in surrender. Not wanting to turn his back to me, he walks backward to the door, almost stumbling over his own feet twice.

I watch him leave and follow him downstairs to make sure he isn’t stupid enough to go back through the lobby. Lucky for him, he listens to me and takes the back door. I’m almost disappointed because I would have had another reason to let out some anger on his face if I had caught him.

Looking down at my hands, I find my knuckles bloody and swollen. They don’t hurt yet, but I know they will later. I will enjoy that pain because it will be a reminder of what I did to his face.

When I’m sure the fucker is gone, I shove my hands in my pockets and walk through the main room like nothing happened. Holly passes by me, giving me a tight smile. I would ask her what’s wrong, but the need to see Hazel is pulling me to the lobby like an invincible force. Holly can wait.

I push the heavy double doors open into the front room. My gaze swings to the desk Hazel should be standing behind, but I find it empty. Confused, I walk to the front door and open it. Alex is standing next to it, his arms folded over his chest.

“Hey, have you seen Hazel?”

“No, boss. She hasn’t been out here.”

“All right, maybe she just took a break,” I say more to myself as I head back inside, letting the door fall shut behind me. I ignore the dreadful feeling that something is wrong and tell myself she is fine. She probably just had to go pee or got stuck talking to one of the girls.

I speed walk through the club, not caring who sees my busted-up hands. My eyes bounce from person to person, searching for Hazel in a room full of people. When I don’t find her in here, I try the bathroom next. Samantha is the only one inside, fixing her hair in the mirror.

“What’s up?” she asks, not the least bit concerned that I’m in the women’s bathroom. It’s not like I haven’t seen each of the girls who work here naked.

“Have you seen Hazel?”

“I saw her walk to the bathroom when I was still on stage. Is she not back up front?”

Fuck! Where the hell is she? Spinning around, I exit the bathroom. Holly is waiting in the hallway, her smile gone, replaced with fear and guilt.

“What did you do? Where is Hazel?”

“I’m sorry, Myles. I didn’t know—”

I grab her by the upper arms and push her against the wall. She lets out a shriek, and her eyes go wide with shock. I don’t normally touch any of the girls like this, but she has something to do with Hazel’s disappearance, and I’m one breath away from losing my fucking mind.

“Where is she?!”

“I don’t know, I swear!” Holly whimpers, her bottom lip shaking like she is about to start crying. “She ran into me in the bathroom and started asking me questions about Randy.”

About Randy? I’m so fucking confused. My mind is going at a million miles per hour, trying to make sense of everything. Then in the midst of all of it, something occurs to me. He knew her name. How did he know her name?

“What exactly did she ask about Randy?”

“Just if you knew him and how. I told her he comes here regularly because he works for your family. I thought she knew who you were.”

“Fuck!” I release Holly with a shove, and she steps away from me on shaky legs. “Ask all the girls if they have seen her,” I order. Holly nods her head furiously before taking off toward the dressing room.

Once again, I make my way down the hall and through the main room to the lobby. Maybe she left a note or some kind of clue. When I get to the front desk, I find neither of those. What I do find is the cash register open and all the cash missing out of it. Damnit.

Normally, I would be furious about someone daring to steal from me, to steal money from the Hale family, but the only anger I have is for myself. I don’t give two shits about the cash.

I’m not even angry with Hazel. I’m fucking worried about her. She doesn’t have a car or a place to stay. There might have been five hundred bucks in the register. How far can she get with that? How will I find her?

Getting out my phone, I unlock it and speed dial Ace. He answers on the second ring. “What up?”

“I need your help. I need you to find the girl.”

“Girl?”

“Hazel. I need you to find her. She ran from the club.”

“From what? What the fuck is going on, Myles?”

I give him a quick overview of all my fuckups from the past few days. He is not happy, to say the least, but I’ll have to deal with that later.

“Meet me at my place. We’ll find her.” I breathe a small sigh of relief at my brother’s willingness to help me, but I won’t be satisfied until I have her back in my arms.

Whatever it takes. I will get her back.