“Oh, Livie. I work six days a week. That’s a lot to ask of a fifteen year old. You deserve to go out and party or, whatever fifteen year olds are doing these days.”

Livie’s already shaking her head. “No it’s not and I don’t mind.” She pinches Mia’s cheek, as taken by the child as Mia is of her. “I’d love it.”

There’s a long pause and Storm swallows, considering it. “You’d have to let me pay you for your time. No more arguing.”

Livie’s hand waves dismissively. “Yeah, fine. Whatever. She’ll be asleep most of the time anyway and Kacey will be at work with you, right? So at least I won’t be alone.”

All three turn to look at me hopefully.

I heave a loud sigh. “Just drinks, right? I’m not serving anyone … anything else.”

Storm’s irises twinkle. “Not unless you want to.”

“And I don’t have to wear anything revealing?”

“Well …”

My head drops back and rolls from one side to the other. “Here we go.”

“I was just going to say that you’ll make more money showing a bit of cleavage than you will dressed as a Mormon. A lot more money. I’d show a teensy tiny bit of skin, if I were you.”

I sigh again. “And I can quit if I don’t like it? No hard feelings?”

“Absolutely, Kacey. No hard feelings,” Storm asserts, holding a wooden spoon in front of her face as if she’s pledging.

A long pause, just enough to make Storm squirm. “Okay.”

“Great!” Storm throws her toned arms around me, oblivious that the contact is making my insides churn and the voice in my head scream. She breaks away just as quickly and moves back to her pot of sauce, allowing me a chance to exhale. “You start tonight, by the way.”

“Tonight. Fun.” I can’t keep the sarcasm from my voice as butterflies start their mad dash around my belly, killing my appetite. I hug my arms tight to my body, acknowledging that a club’s worth of new people means handshakes and questions about personal shit that are none of anyone’s business. I’m not ready for this. I haven’t prepared … One … two… three … four… By the time I reach ten, I’m freaking out.

Stage Three ~ Resistance

Chapter Four

We pull up to Penny’s Palace in Storm’s Jeep just as the sun is dropping over the horizon. Storm doesn’t even have the thing in park before I jump out. When she walks around to meet me on my side, it’s with a look I’m long since used to—a mixture of surprise and concern. She doesn’t comment though.

She does comment on me tugging at the short black skirt I borrowed from her. “Stop fidgeting.” She swats my hand away. “I never would have taken you for the nervous type.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re ass isn’t hanging out. I can’t believe I agreed to wear this Band-Aid. I’m going to bend over and show everyone my girl bits.”

Storm laughs. “Of course you should wear that Band-Aid. It shows those awesome legs of yours off.”

“It’s showing more than my legs,” I mutter, giving it another tug to cover the bottom of my tattoo. I’m not ashamed of that. I just don’t want to draw more attention to myself than necessary.

“Good Lord! For such a tough act, you really are a big sissy girl, aren’t you?”

She’s right. I guess I’m just out of my element here and it’s causing me to second-guess everything. If this were the gym, I’d have no problem in tiny shorts that hug my ass. But this isn’t the gym and I’m not allowed to kick the crap out of anything here.

I cock my head to the side as I take in Storm. “Did you just call me a sissy girl?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Did you just say ‘girl bits’? This is an adult club, not a day care.”

“I’ll try to remember that,” I chuckle as we approach the solid black metal door with a tiny peep hole in it.

“You look great, Kacey. Seriously.” I try not to flinch as she pats my shoulder.

Secretly, I have to admit that I do. Aside from the mini skirt, I’m also wearing a charcoal striped halter top and several silver jewelry pieces, courtesy of Storm’s collection. She also helped me with my hair and make-up. I look more than decent. Not a knock out standing next to Storm with her turquoise dress and tanned skin and Barbie doll curves, but decent all the same. Decent enough that I caught myself swaggering extra slow past 1D on my way out, hoping to catch Trent’s face in the window. Then I realized what I was doing, and I ran the rest of the way to Storm’s Jeep, the voice inside my head scolding the snot out of me the entire way.

Storm raps against the heavy door four times. It flies open and my insides flip. Not many people intimidate me anymore. The giant man with dark skin and bulging muscles who fills the doorway, as wide as he is tall, though … I don’t care that I’m cowering. By the look of him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s never smiled a day in his life. He’s certainly never been a cute baby. I’m sure he simply materialized out of nothingness into the beast standing before me.

“This is Nate. He’s the head bouncer and Cain’s right hand man. Hey Nate! This is my friend, Kacey.” Storm doesn’t wait for him to respond. She simply pushes past him, her hand giving his solid abdomen a soft punch on the way in.

“Hi,” he says. The tiny word rumbles deep inside me, his voice like thunder and I nod, temporarily mute.

He steps back to give me more space. “Come in, please.”

Forcing bravado that I don’t feel, I jack my chin up and step inside. Storm leads me down a narrow hallway lined with liquor cases and silver kegs, smelling faintly of beer yeast. Dark memories rise with the scent. Memories of clubs and tequila shots off guys’ abdomens and white powder lines on tables in dark corners. I quickly cram them back where they belong. In the past.

“Here are the dressing rooms for the dancers …” Storm’s index finger points to two closed doors. “I wouldn’t go in there unless you want to see all kinds of ‘girl bits.’” With a teasing laugh, she continues.

We pass by a broad-shouldered, towering blond guy in a tight black t-shirt and black pants. Definitely another bouncer by his outfit but not as ominous-looking at Nate. He’s cute in that “I’m from Wisconsin and I play football” kind of way. He reminds me of Billy …

“Kacey, this is Ben,” Storm introduces us.

“Hey, Kacey,” he grins and then his head cocks as if he suddenly recognizes me. “Hey, weren’t you at The Breaking Point the other day?”

I look him over. I don’t remember him, but, then again, I don’t pay any heed to the guys there. “Maybe. I just joined.”

He nods slowly. “Yeah, that was definitely you.” His eyes do a full shameless intake of my body. “You’re incredible. Do you compete?”

I brush off the compliment. “Nah, it’s just for fun.” The truth is I’d love to complete, but it’s too dangerous for me, given my injuries. One hit to the wrong place will cause serious damage to all the work those surgeons did years ago to put me back together. I’m not about to tell Ben any of that though.

“First night at Penny’s?” he asks, leaning one forearm against a door frame.

“Yeah.”

A lusty gaze wanders over my frame again.

“Bartending only,” I add, crossing my arms over my chest, emphasizing the ‘only.’

His attention skates back up to my face and he smirks. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

“And you’ll hear it again from me every time you ask,” I throw back coolly. What a pompous ass. He needs a good kick to the head to wipe that smirk off his mouth. Maybe I’ll ask him to spar next time I’m at the gym.

Storm ushers me forward past him, hollering over her shoulder, “See ya later, Ben.” She knocks on a door with a sign that reads Bossman. There’s a caricature of a naked woman sitting spread eagle and a pair of black lace thong underwear tacked on beside. How fitting.