Page 71 of Knot Happening

This has gone too far. I’ll end up just like my mom.

I have to get out.

Run. Run. Run.

“Tatum, are you okay?” Hayden asks.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. What did I do?

What did I let them do? Why didn’t I stop them? Fuck, I ruined everything.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Tatum

Who would have thought a few Earth shattering orgasms would change my ability to trust my own choices. Twenty-four hours later and I am still shivering at the intensity of the experience.

I’m going to pace a fucking hole in the carpet if I don’t get a grip, but I don’t know what the fuck to do.

I need to keep my job, because I am not going to have my mother kicked out of her new home. I visited her this morning, both in hopes to get some clarity and as a way to distract myself... She actually smiled today.

Continuing to work at Haze guarantees that I have the money to keep Mom there, but the idea of facing the men who have dragged my Omega instincts into play… I can’t.

Am I losing my shit after being eaten out? Yes. Yep, pretty much. Yeah, that's exactly what’s happening. I am pathetic and fucking ridiculous.

There are other clubs, though. Other places I can dance.

None as close as Haze Instincts, but… I can make it work.

I have to make it work.

Taking in a deep breath of the polluted air outside the tall gold and black building, I square my shoulders and look up at the sign for Candy’s Vixens. The club’s outside is simple with clean lines and blacked out windows. Beside the black metal door, a bouncer stands with crossed arms and the look of someone who would rather be anywhere else. From his position, he can see some of the parking lot, but not all of it. I give him a soft smile as I walk up, and he nods to me. As I step inside, my eyes go wide in surprise. It's beautiful.

The sconces that line the walls are a combination of blues, purples, and pinks. Under the colorful effect, the sparkling white walls seem to shimmer. Unlike Haze, Candy’s has only three sections lining the bottom floor, with a long central stage as the main focal point along the furthest wall. Made up of two parts, one with a curtain leading out to a longer area with a pole, and there is a separate, raised section of the stage like an island with two poles. The shimmering white leather seats that line both stages are empty where women and a few men are practicing some dances. The stairway that is partially hidden by shimmering floor to ceiling silver velvet curtains across from the entrance is most likely the VIP.

Each of the tables placed throughout the entire room are intimate with gray tablecloths and just a few chairs, while the booths along the walls provide low stages where dancers can put on private shows. Opposite the main stage is a long white marble bar that has running lights in that same colorful hue and industrial looking accents along the back wall holding a collection of liquor. Candy’s is written in neon pink writing on the mirror behind the counter.

I take a moment to look around and get a feel of the place. Despite my wonky Omega instincts, from what I can scent, in spite of the neutralizing system, there isn’t a trace of fear in the air. Just the leftovers of lustful Alphas, excited Betas, and needy Omegas. Overall, it feels safe. I can see a few people roaming about. Cleaning or setting up. It’s nice, I like it already.

“Tatum?” a petite redheaded Omega, who appears to be about thirty, says as she approaches me. She’s dressed in a black, well-fitted suit with black kitten heels and a white halter top. Covered head to toe, and yet, she exudes sex appeal and dominance. She looks like a badass.

“Yes, are you Elle?”

“Call me ‘Candy’ while on the floor, though. You’ll want to come up with a name to protect your identity as well, if you get hired, that is.” She winks, before turning toward a hall. “Follow me.”

“I appreciate you giving me a chance to interview so fast.” I follow her into a clean but elegantly appointed office. Blackberry cobbler seems to be soaked into the bones of the room as I sit across from her. It had never occurred to me that the owner of this club would be a woman, let alone an Omega. The industry tends to be led by overbearing men. But the effects of her designation are seen clearly in the soft accents and overstuffed chairs.

“When I saw in your work history that you work for the Hayes brothers, I couldn’t help but be intrigued. I know the caliber of women and men that dance in that building. And the experience they provide…” Her head tilts as she leans back casually and looks at me over the wide desk. “I don’t need to know the specifics. Only what you want from working here with my team as opposed to what you experienced there. You look like an Omega with a story.”

Candy’s presence puts me at ease in such a way that bits of the story come pouring out. By the time my word vomit is done, she brings out two shot glasses and an expensive bottle of tequila.

“Then let's get down to the nitty-gritty. I think you’ll be exceptional here.” Candy pulls out what looks like my resume, then finally asks the questions I expected.

The rest of the interview goes smoothly, and she asks me to stay tonight for a trial, since I have experience at…the guys club. I swallow back the guilt of leaving Haze behind.

This first night I’ll be working the floor between stage dances and private rooms. Not unlike Haze, Candy’s Vixens are known for going above and beyond for their customers, so they spend as much money as possible. Well, above and beyond, within reason.

She explained that they don’t typically capitalize on Omega’s heats, but we are welcome too within the lines of the business. Pheromone play is apparently the big ticket item here, where you flood the space with your scent as you dance for the customer. They have Velvet rooms that are provided with cushioned benches for private affairs.

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