His Stripper by Darcy Rose, Isabella Starling
Hazel
I’m so stupid. So fucking stupid. What the hell was I thinking about stealing money from a guy in the mob? No, not in the mob, the mob. His family is the mob.
Hugging my knees tightly, I sit in the center of the motel bed. I’ve been crying for what seems like hours. There is a pressure behind my eyes that makes me think my head is gonna explode soon. I’m exhausted and hungry, but I can’t help either. I can’t go out to get some food like this, and I can’t sleep because I’m so fucking scared.
They are going to come after me. Myles is probably going to kill me. Another sob wracks my body. How could I have been so wrong about him? I thought there was actually something between us when, in reality, he is just as bad as Randy. I gave Myles my virginity, and I did every dirty thing he asked me to, willingly.
And now… now I’m in a shitty motel room fifty miles away. I don’t even know what city I am in. This was the farthest the cab driver would take me for a hundred bucks. Now I have a little over four hundred left. Where is that going to get me? Nowhere.
I look up at the TV I turned on for some background noise. The screen is blurry, and I don’t actually listen to a single word that’s said, but the sound makes me feel a tiny bit less alone.
When I hear knocking, I ignore it because I’m certain it’s coming from the TV. Then I hear it again, louder this time. I prop my head up and stare at the door.
“Hazel, open the door.” Myles’s muffled voice comes through the door.
I freeze, a sob gets stuck halfway in my throat while I stay completely still. He is here. He came for me, and now he is going to kill me.
He knocks again. “Open up, Hazel. I know you are in there. Open the door, or I’ll kick it in.”
I get out of the bed, forcing my weak knees to carry me to the door. I unhook the flimsy chain that looks more like a decoration than anything and wouldn’t keep Myles out. As soon as I unlock the door, Myles pushes it open, and I take a few steps back.
Blinking the tears away, I wrap my arms around myself as if that could keep me from falling apart. Through the tears, I see him closing the door behind me. When he turns back to face me, I expect him to yell, maybe even hit me. Instead, he closes the distance between us in one large stride. His sudden closeness takes my breath away. Grabbing my arm, he pulls me along with him to an ancient-looking recliner in the corner of the room.
Sitting down, he pulls me onto his lap. My legs are draped over the side of his, and he has one arm around my torso, holding me to him like he is worried I might run. My own hands are folded in my lap, though my fingers itch to touch Myles.
As always, his nearness only confuses me. I know he is a bad guy, yet I want nothing more than to lean into him, wrap my arms around him, and bury my face in his shirt. Keeping my head down, I hiccup, wondering what the hell he is doing.
“Look at me,” he orders, his voice surprisingly gentle.
I raise my eyes to his and blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken the money. It was stupid. I’ll pay you back and more—”
“I don’t care about the money. I want to know why you ran. Who is Randy to you?”
I flinch. Just hearing the name makes my stomach churn. Myles places his large hand on my knee, his thumb rubbing small circles over my jean-clad leg. He acts like he is trying to comfort me, but there is no way. This has to be a trick. A cruel game he is playing.
“Tell me,” Myles presses.
“Randy was one of my foster parents,” I explain. Myles tightens his grip on me, his arm is actually shaking, and his face looks like he’s exercising a great deal of restraint by staying quiet. He gives me a tiny nod, and I continue.
“I turned eighteen two weeks ago, and he basically told me I had to leave unless I was willing to…” I trail off, not wanting to say it out loud.
“Willing to do what?” Myles barely gets the words out without it sounding like a snarl.
“Unless I was willing to have sex with him.”
“That fucking prick,” Myles curses under his breath, looking past me into the room. “I’m gonna kill him. He is a dead man walking.” His eyes fall closed, and he takes a few deep breaths, kind of like he is calming himself. When he opens them again, the anger in his gaze has disappeared slightly, but he still looks like he is ready to kill someone. Since I’m the only one here, it must be me.
“Are you going to kill me?”
“Kill you? What? Why would you say that?”
“Holly told me who you are… what your family does… and I stole your money. Now I owe you even more than before.”
“You don’t owe me anything. The insurance paid for the car, and don’t worry about the cash from today. I told you, I don’t give a shit about the money.”
“Why? I mean, why did you come here then?”
He inspects my face for a moment. His gaze is thoughtful, as if he is trying to solve the world’s problems. “I had to know what connection you have to Randy.”
“Oh…” That’s all I can manage to get out. I think if I try for any more syllables, I’ll start to sob again. “So what now?”
“I think it’s better if I leave.” His words feel like a dull butter knife jammed between my rib cage. A minute ago, I was scared to let him in the room. Now, I want to throw myself at him and beg him not to leave me.
“My brother is outside waiting for you. He’s going to take you somewhere safe. You can stay there as long as you want.” He doesn’t even look at me as he tells me. Then he pushes me off his lap and stands us both up. I stumble back, and my ass hits the bed. Stunned into silence, I watch him walk out of the room. The door shuts behind him, leaving me alone.
While his cologne lingers in the air, I take a deep breath, letting the scent calm me before it’s gone and the stale cigarette smell of the room returns.
For the longest time, I simply stare at the door, wondering if he was here at all. Maybe I did fall asleep, and it was just a dream. But dreams don’t hurt this bad, do they? There is a distinct ache in my chest, right where my heart used to be.
I stare at that door until I memorize every chip of its ugly dark green paint. The TV is still playing in the background, but the sound is drowned out by a couple in the room above me fighting. They are yelling at each other, reminding me of the many nights I spent as a kid listening to adults fight. Now more than ever do I wish I was back at Myles’s house, the only place I’ve ever felt comfortable.
The thought of the house I called home for a short while reminds me of what Myles said before he left. He said his brother was outside waiting for me to take me somewhere safe. I jump up from the bed and grab the few things I had on me when I got here. The cash I stole from the club feels like a thousand-pound weight in my pocket as I open the door to walk out.
I’m in such a hurry that I almost run into the man standing in front of my door. “Sorry,” I blurt out before actually getting a good look at him. I have to tilt up my head to see his face because he is so tall. One look at his features, and I know he must be Myles’s brother. They have the same dark eyes, same sharp jawline, and even the same frown.
“I was about to come in there and get you,” he tells me. Even his husky voice reminds me of Myles.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize again.
He simply nods and turns away from me. “Let’s go then.” He opens the driver’s side of a black SUV and motions for me to get in on the other side. Not wanting to let him wait even longer, I hurry into the car. Sliding into the front seat, I shut the door and buckle my seat belt.
It isn’t until he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road that something occurs to me. What if he is not taking me somewhere safe? Can I trust this man? What if Myles couldn’t kill me himself, so he has his brother do it?
“You’re gonna be fine,” he tells me as if he just read my mind. “The place I’m taking you to is one of our safe houses. We haven’t used it in a long time, but we have someone go check on it once a month. It’s clean and stocked with food and clothes. You can stay as long as you want.”
“Thank you. I’m Hazel, by the way, but I’m sure you already knew that.”
“Yes, I’m Ace,” he introduces himself, and I remember hearing that name before from Holly.
We don’t talk for the rest of the drive. My eyelids become heavier by the second, the low hum of the car enticing me to go to sleep. Just before I doze off, Ace turns onto a dirt road.
“We’re here,” he announces.
I look straight ahead and find a large white house at the end of a long bumpy driveway. Ace parks in front of the garage and cuts the engine. We get out of the car at the same time, and I follow him to the front door like a lost puppy dog.
He pulls out a key and unlocks the door with it before holding it out to me. I open my hand, and he lets the key fall onto my palm.
“When you are ready to leave, just lock the door with the key inside.”
“Okay… but what if—?”
“You’re on your own from here on out.” Biting the inside of my cheek, I concentrate on not crying in front of him. I’ll save that for later. “Goodbye, Hazel.”
“Thank you again.”
He gives me one more nod before heading back to his car. I watch him drive away, the SUV disappearing from my view. Stepping inside the house, I shut and lock the door behind me, then lean my back against it and slide down to sit on the floor.
Everyone leaves me. No one cares enough to stay. All my life, I had the feeling of abandonment lingering inside me. But it never, ever hurt so badly before.