I nod. “Yup, you got it, Nate.”

With a curt bob of his head, he wanders back to stand at his post like a sentry. One who could rip a guy’s legs right out of their sockets if he sneezes too hard.

“What was that about?” Storm sneaks up behind me.

“Oh, nothing.” My voice is still shaky and I can’t get my tongue to work properly. I hazard another glance over at Trent. He’s leaning into the table, toying with his straw, while Mediterranean Barbie—Bella, I think she goes by—presses her scantily clad body against his thigh. I watch as she gestures toward the V.I.P. room, her hand slipping over the back of his neck affectionately.

“You okay? You look like you’re trying to choke someone.” She’s right, I realize, as I notice my fists wringing the dish cloth in my hand like it’s a neck. It is someone’s neck right about now. Bella’s …

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I toss the cloth down and hazard one more peek at Trent, the same second his gorgeous blue eyes dart back to touch mine. I jump. He gives me that teasing smile that peels away my defenses, leaving me as naked as the dancers on stage. Why does he affect me so? It’s unnerving!

“Uh, that’s not ‘nothing,’ Kacey. Are you looking at that guy? Who is that?” She leans over my shoulder to catch my line of sight. “Isn’t that—”

My hand goes up to gently shove her face back. “Turnaround! Now he knows we’re talking about him.”

Storm doubles over, laughing. “Kacey’s got a crush,” she sings. “Our neighbor’s eye-humping you. Go and talk to him.”

“No!” I growl back, throwing my best set of icy eye daggers at her.

She ducks her head and busies herself by clearing glasses off the bar. I can tell she’s stung by the venom in my tone. Guilt instantly swells inside me. Dammit, Storm!

I struggle to ignore Trent’s table, but it’s like passing a train wreck. It’s impossible not to look. By the end of the night, I’m exhausted and annoyed by the seismic waves of jealousy crashing into me as the parade of strippers visit his table, touching him, giggling, one of them sliding up onto his lap to talk. My only relief comes from the fact that Trent politely declines them all.

***

Reaching into her purse that sits between us in the console, Storm tosses a thick envelope on my lap.

Without much thought, I tear it open and flip through the bills. “Holy shit! There’s got to be, like …”

“I told you so!” She sings, adding with a wink, “now imagine what you’d make if you got up on stage.”

There had to be five hundred dollars in here! Easy! “You’ve been working at Penny’s for … four years you said? Why are you still on Jackson Drive? You could have bought a house!”

She sighs. “I was married for a year to Mia’s father. I had to claim bankruptcy after I left him because he racked up so much debt. No bank’s going to give me a mortgage now.”

“He sounds like a real … jackhole.” I shift in my seat, uncomfortable for more than the fact that we’re in her Jeep. Storm is getting into her private life and my defenses naturally go up. When people share, they expect you to reciprocate.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she murmurs, her voice drifting off. “It wasn’t so bad in the beginning. I was sixteen when I met Damon. I got pregnant and he got into drugs. We needed money bad so I started working for Cain after Mia was born. Damon said I had to get these if I wanted to make any real money,” she gestures at her breasts. “Of course I was stupid enough to agree.” A rare spike of bitterness laces her words. “It hurt like hell. That’s the only reason I haven’t gone back to get them reduced. I swear, the thing girls will do when they’re blind to love.”

“So when did you finally decide to leave him?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“The second time he kicked the crap out of me.”

She says it so matter of fact that I’m sure I misheard her. “Oh … I’m sorry, Storm.” And I am. The idea of someone hitting Storm instantly gets my hackles raised.

“The first time, I lied to everyone. Told them I ran into a wall.” She snorts. “They didn’t buy it, but they let me live in my little delusion. But the second time …” She exhales heavily. “I came in to work with a fat lip and a bloody nose. Cain and Nate drove me right back home and stood over me while I packed Mia’s and my things. Damon came in as we were walking out the door. Nate roughed him up a bit. Warned him if he ever comes near me or Mia again, he’ll be peeing through a straw. And you’ve seen Nate.” Storm gives me a wide-eyed look. “He can do it.” She pulls into her parking spot outside our building and shuts the Jeep off.

“Cain set me up with the apartment and I’ve been here ever since, hoarding all my money until I have enough to buy a house with cash. If all goes well, I’ll be out of the club scene for good in another two or three years.” She adds softly, “and my parents don’t have to be ashamed of me anymore.”

I snort. “Tell me about it. My parents would be rolling in their graves if they knew where I’m working …” My voice drifts off into an awkward silence, mentally chastising myself for bringing them up.

“Hey, Kacey?” There’s that cautious, nervous Storm voice again and my shoulders tense. I know exactly where this is going. “Look, I’ve pieced together a few things—your parents are dead, I think it has something to do with alcohol ... you have a lot of scars. You don’t like people touching your hands …”

I don’t let her finish. I open the door and rush out.

I decide that Storm is brilliant. A regular fucking rocket scientist.

Chapter Five

“Air conditioning!” I moan, peeling my sheets from my sweaty body. We need real friggin’ curtains, I think to myself, as I glare at the airy scraps hanging in front of the window. They do nothing to stop the sun from beating in. We haven’t had air conditioning since before my parents died. Aunt Darla didn’t believe in paying for cool air when there are starving kids in the world. Or husbands with gambling problems. Now that we live in Miami, I don’t know how it’s not illegal.

Livie and Mia are in the kitchen, humming ‘pop goes the weasel’ as they empty a brown bags’ worth of groceries. “Good afternoon!” Livie sings when she sees me.

“Good afternoon!” Mia echoes.

I check the clock. Almost one. They’re right. It is afternoon. I haven’t slept in that late in forever.

“I picked up food. There’s money on the counter there.” Livie’s chin directs me to a small pile of bills. “I had to argue Storm down to half of what she wanted to pay me.”

I smile. Storm swears she’s found her angels. I’m sure that we’ve found ours. I need to cut my bullshit with her, I decide, then and there. I don’t know how, but I need to. Strolling over to grab the money from my purse, I slap the thick envelope onto the table. “Bam! Take that!”

“Holy Sh …” Livie’s wide eyes pass from the stack of money to Mia’s curious face “… shnikies! You just served drinks … right?”

So Livie figured it out on her own. I cock my head and narrow my eyes, pausing for effect as if I'm in deep thought. “Define serving drinks.” I chuckle as I pull out the OJ from the fridge and chug straight from the bottle, feeling her glower at my back. “I’m kidding! Yes, just drinks. And an ass sandwich for one lucky grabber.” Mia’s brows spike and I wince, mouthing “sorry” to a scowling Livie. It’s quickly forgotten though as she flips through the wad of money with her thumb. “Holy cow.”

“I know, right?” I know I have a stupid grin on my face and I don’t care. This might work. We might survive. We might not have to eat cat food.

Livie looks up with a secretive smile.

“What?”

She pauses, then, “Nothing I just … you’re giddy.” She bites into a baby carrot. “It’s nice.”