Page 68 of The Good Girl Effect
When I turn back, I find Julian helping with a disgruntled expression on his face.
I work my way to the edge of the crowd along the wall and through the door to the backstage area. My sister is stomping angrily with a look of rage on her face.
I’m quite certain there is nobody meaner on this planet than Elizabeth, and I’m not just saying that as her big brother. Judging by the look on her face, whoever is on security tonight has just been subjected to a massive serving of her fiery rage.
She stops in front of me with her hands on her hips. “You need to get this place under control,” she barks. “I can’t subject dancers to this, Jack.”
“I’m handling it,” I argue.
“Are you?” she replies with a tilt of her head. “Or are you just fighting with Julian?”
Speak of the devil, he suddenly appears behind me, staring at Elizabeth with a flat expression.
She points a stern finger at both of us as if I’m not nearly ten years older than her. “You two need to get over your bullshit and learn how to work together before someone gets hurt!”
With that, she shoves past both of us, stomping away on a mission.
The entire reason I took on this club last year was to work alongside my sister and hopefully repair the broken relationship between us. And nearly that entire year has gone by with very few words and absolutely no progress. But it’s not something I can focus on right now.
She’s right.
I turn toward the man at my side and let out a sigh. “Help me empty this place out.”
“I don’t take orders from you,” he replies coldly.
Tired of his shit, I grab him by the collar and shove him hard against the wall. He doesn’t seem the least bit surprised. Glaring through half-closed eyes, he glowers at me as I get in his face.
“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is,” I bellow. “But I have people here who I actually fucking care about, and I will not rest until this shithole is empty and they are safe, understand?”
He pushes me away, straightening his tie. “It’s always about you, Jack.Everythingis about you.”
“Fuck you, Julian.”
“No, fuck you, Jack.”
With that, he turns on his heels and marches away. I’m left huffing in anger.
When I leave the backstage hallway, I find Camille standing where I left her. Her brows are lifted, and her arms are wrapped around herself, and it kills me to see her looking scared. Rushing over to her, I place my hands on her arms.
“Go home. I have to clean this up.”
“I can help,” she mumbles softly.
At the sound of her voice, I wince. Just a few minutes ago, I wanted to hear her speak. But right now, with everything falling apart, I bristle at the sound.
“No,” I say sternly. “You need to get home. It’s late.”
I watch as she chews on her bottom lip, and I can tell she doesn’t want to leave me. Truth be told, I don’t want her to leave me either. In only the past few weeks, I’ve become accustomed to her nearness in a way that surprises me. I don’t want distance between us. The way it feels to be in her presence is like a drug to me, and I can’t get enough.
But right now, I have work to do.
“Go,” I say again, and finally, she nods and obeys.
It takes Julian and I nearly three and a half hours to clear the club. By the end of the long and grueling night, I can’t bear to look into his eyes, or anyone else’s for that matter.
I feel like a failure. Everything Camille and Elizabeth said stings with truth. I was supposed to instill faith and guidance in everyone but most of all my sister. She can still hardly stand me.
As Julian and I reach the top floor of the now-empty club, we freeze as we come face-to-face with Matis.
