Her palm goes to my bicep, and she leans into me. “Don’t ask me things I can’t give you answers to.” The confession wafts over the music, her breath scurrying over my neck. “If you want to see me”—her gaze drifts back into my eyes—“it can only be here when you buy a private dance.”
I have to get her alone. If buying a dance is the only way I can get to know her better, to find out what’s going on, then I’ll do it.
If the Bianchis are hurting her, they’ll die twice. Once for my family and once for her—this woman. This stranger. Someone I barely know. But someone I want to know more than anything.
“I don’t just want a dance. I don’t want whatever you do with every asshole here.”
“Look, Patrick…” Her shoulders sag, her breathing filled with dejection. “I don’t know what you want from me, but a dance is all I can give you.”
There’s more there, more she wants to tell me, that she’s probably dying to tell someone, but she’s fighting it like hell.
“You working tomorrow?”
“And the night after that.” A warm, soulful smile stitches up her lips.
“Then I’ll be here.”
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” She lifts her hand in a small wave. “Bye, Patrick.
“See ya, Joelle.”
She walks away, tucking the money in her bra as she disappears behind the stage.
CHAPTERTWO
JOELLE
He wasthe first man to ever look at me. Really look at me.
As more than a stripper. As more than a whore.
That’s what I am, though. A whore. I have been for too long. Nine years long. I don’t know who I was before. Not anymore.
That woman has long disappeared into a dark abyss where I can no longer hear her or feel her. She’s someone I can never be. Was I ever her? Was it all a dream I made up to erase the agony of my current life?
No. I remember it all. My family. My friends. My son.
Robby.
God. How I wish I could hold him. Love him like a mother would. Buthetook him. From the moment he was born, he was theirs.
The monsters. My tormentors. That’s who they are.
They run my life. This club. Their teeth have sunk so deep into every facet of my existence, I’ll never scrape them off. They’ve imprinted their mark on my soul. I’ll never escape them. How could I? They watch the house I live in, with cameras running twenty-four seven. The whole place is covered with security night and day.
Every girl watched like I am, I’m sure. Every one of them is just like me. Someone who never had a choice. Someone stolen. Robbed of her life. Of her family. Of her dignity and self-respect.
They call us sluts.
Whores.
They beat us.
Rape us.
They control us.
If it weren’t for my beautiful boy, I would’ve found a way to die. He’s the only one keeping me tethered to this world, instead of finding myself sinking into another.