Who the fuck does this guy think he is?
My gaze runs over his lean muscled frame, rage burning like a rebellion in my veins. He’s dressed in black and doesn’t say a word. His eyes are blacked out by his mask. His hands in black gloves giving nothing away as to who the fuck he is.
I roll my eyes dramatically. “Well, aren’t you a little shy one?”
Nothing.
I glance at Jack. “Sorry, sweetheart. I think I have an impatient one over here.”
But Jack isn’t having it. He grabs me by the thick part of my thighs. The masked man is about to intervene but I stop him putting a hand on his chest. He looks down at it like it’s a snake.
I lean close to Jack so he can hear me over the music. “You like to touch before you buy and I’m not for sale.”
“There’s two fifty-dollar bills right here that says you do.” I tilt my head back and laugh.Men. “What’s so funny you bitch?” he sneers.
My laugh goes silent. I drop my smile and tilt my head like a serial killer. The images floating in my head of all the ways I can slice his face and hands with the glass from his whiskey.
“Oh, Jacky,” I admonish. “That’s no way to get what you want.”
Rages crosses his features, annoyed that I’m mocking him. I drop my hand away from the masked man’s chest and step back, giving myself some space to make the sign of the cross over his frame like I’m a priest.
“What the fuck?” Jack says pissed off that he isn’t getting what he wants.
I glance at the masked man still watching me without saying a word. “See what you did?” I say playfully. The mask man responds by walking away disappearing out the exit. I place my hands on my hips and pout. “Well, that wasn’t very nice.”
“You’re a crazy bitch,” Jack spits.
My eyes gleam with something dark and dangerous as I watch him stuff the two fifties in his pocket moving to leave. He snatches his glass and watch him leave to the back room.
“Oh, Jacky baby,” I mutter. You haven’t seen crazy yet.”
“Hey.” I turn around to see Rose ready to leave. “Need a ride?”
“What was that all about?” Rose asks once when her car heading to the motel.
“I don’t know,” I say staring at the moon in the dark sky. Because I don’t.
Something is happening to me and I don’t what it is. It’s like I’m two different people and it feels good.
“Who was that guy in the mask?”
“What guy?” she asks.
I glance at her briefly. “The one with the mask when my lap dance went to shit?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see his face. One moment he was there blocking my view and then he was gone and then that guy at the table stormed off.”
He was a dick.
“Should have cut his dick off, that would’ve taught him not to fuck with you.”
Silence stretches between us for a few seconds. My phone vibrates and I see an unknown text.
Unknown: Who buys it but can’t have it? Who touches it but wasn’t supposed to? What am I?
“What the hell?” I mumble.
“Is everything okay?”