Page 16 of Copper

A tear runs down my face. Aaron. He’s upstairs finishing his dessert while this happens. I can’t call for help. What I wouldn’t give for him to need to use the bathroom right now.

“We know that. We also do business together. I’d hate to have to get him involved to pay us back.”

“Us? Your boss is dead,” I whimper, and Geoffrey releases me. I gasp for breath and cough a little as I slink down the wall.

“How does a dumb stripper know that?”

“I read the news,” I lie. “If your boss is dead, why are you coming after me?”

“Yes, it’s unfortunate that my boss died. One of my coworkers, too. May have been a bad accident.”

“What kind of accident is that?” I ask the question in a taunting voice, but anger controls my voice now – not common sense.

“Let’s just put it this way. There’s a new boss in town, and I don’t like forgiving my old boss’s debts.” He pulls back from me a little, still not removing the knife, and I suck in a breath of clean air that doesn’t smell like his breath or hands.

“You have one more month for half of what we asked for. I’ll find you. If you tell the guy you’re with anything about this, we’ll come for him too. What’s his name? Dwyer? Has two little girls, if I remember right from his campaign.”

I grit my teeth, and spit forms in my mouth. I don’t dare spit in this guy’s face, but I want to. Threatening an innocent woman is cowardly enough. Threatening two little girls is reprehensible. But something about it beingAaron’stwo girls makes my blood boil. How dare this man threaten to hurt Aaron or anyone he cares about?

I should scream, run, or make a scene, especially since three old ladies about the age ofThe Golden Girlssmile at me as they parade into the bathroom like Geoffrey may simply be my lover and we’re having a heated chat. I should ask for help or send one of the silent looks women send to each other when they need assistance with a dickhead.

The knife presses flat into my crotch once they disappear, completely immersed in their conversation. “Are we clear? Remember, not a word, or I’ll pay your boyfriend a visit. I may have to check out his girls’ school some day during recess. I have connections that would pay a pretty penny for them.”

Over my dead body. Which is a distinct possibility with this mess. “I’ll get it for you.”

And I will. If I have to fuck every patron that comes into the club, I won’t let those girls be hurt. I’ll get that money, or at least have enough to appease this guy until I can get more. It may be horrible, but I’ll spread my legs for Geoffrey to buy more time until I do have the cash. Not one hair on Aaron Dwyer’s head will be hurt or even inconvenienced.

Geoffrey pulls the knife away from my crotch and drags his index finger down my face. “Such a sassy little mouth. If I didn’t think you’d be the kind to bite my dick off, I’d make you get on your knees to work off a hundred bucks of that debt.”

I shiver and clench my thighs to keep from wetting my dress in fear, but I force myself to look at him. If I avert my eyes, he’ll know I’m scared of him. Once the debt is paid, he’ll keep coming around if he thinks he can. My nostrils flare as I try to control my breath.

He pushes my head back against the wall before backing away. I whimper and rub my head but don’t dare move until he’s gone and taking the stairs to the main area.

I’m so fucking tired of being afraid of men.

Chapter 8

Aaron

Lucy’sbeenquietthewhole way home. She came back from the bathroom shaking. I asked her what happened, and she just smiled in return, ignoring the question and asking the nearest waiter for a stiff whiskey. Something happened, though. I could tell by the way she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

The drinking later into the night turned out to be a good thing. Murphy loosened up, and I did too. We finally got to have that conversation about the Bears. Sure, I didn’t get him to admit he traffics women, but I did get a minute alone with his date which was long enough for me to slip her my card in case she needs help.

Murphy loosened up during after-dinner cocktails and dancing, but I didn’t like the way he looked at Lucy. He looked like he knew her intimately or wants to, not like a cousin should look at his cousin’s wife. Lucy looked away from him whenever she could, and I was able to not let it get to me as the bar ran out of alcohol. Both of us drank more than we should, and I probably shouldn’t have driven back to her house. By the time I realized that I should have called us an Uber, we were almost home.

I walk her to the front porch, and she opens the door wide behind her in a silent invitation. Unsure of what she’s willing to do inside her house, I follow in silence, my hands in my pockets and waiting for her to make a move on me or indicate she wants to be physical. It’s not like we don’t do stuff at the club, and we’re familiar with each other’s sex tells.

She drops her purse and keys on a small table in her entryway before hobbling to the refrigerator, opening the door, and pulling out a bottle of wine I recognize from my own shopping at Trader Joe’s. She kicks off her heels in the kitchen and sighs. “I’m so fucking tired of painful shoes.”

I walk to the kitchen entryway and casually lean against it. “I don’t know how you wear the ones you wear at work. You have my respect for walking in those things.”

She opens the twist cap on the wine, takes a drink, and holds the bottle out to me. I take a sip and let the dry red fill my mouth. More alcohol. This will sit well with the whiskey and beer I’ve already consumed. Hopefully, the kids aren’t too wild tomorrow morning since the overnight sitter only lasts until eight.

She takes the bottle back from me, takes a swig, and sets it on the counter. She leans on her elbows and her tits about fall out of the dress, but it’s not meant to seduce. She’s just leaning forward. “You like the shoes, don’t you?” she asks in a whisper.

“I like the shoes, Lucy,” I whisper back, pushing off the doorframe and leaning against the other side of her counter so we’re across from each other. “I like a lot of things about you.”

“Still?”

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