Page 701 of Hell Hath No Fury
I wave my hand. “Go ahead.”
“I’ve been requested in the VIP room. Some of the Devil’s Regents guys are here tonight.”
It’s not unusual for some of the patch holders to pop in. In fact, I’ve seen my share of familiar faces in the short time that I’ve been here.
Tulip finishes bronzing her chest and hands me the bottle. “You don’t have a tampon on you? My dumb period came early.”
Her words feel like ice water being dumped over my head and I reach for my phone, checking my period app. Shit. Shit!
“Siren? Everything okay?”
I let out a shaky laugh. “I really hope so. I’m late.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh. Well, it’s probably just stress or something.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
The lie rolls off my tongue. She doesn’t need to know that my period has been on time since I got it at a sleepover with Suzy Tanner when I was twelve. Nor does she need to know that the only time it was late was when I found out I was pregnant with Wentworth. My stomach roils, and I reach for my water bottle, taking a drink. This has to be a mistake. I’m on birth control for crying out loud!
Tulip gives me a sympathetic smile before leaving me to my misery. Dread coils in my stomach as I count back days.
“Fuck,” I whisper to my phone.
Guess maybe I should have taken Tool up on his offer and gotten the morning-after pill. Dropping my phone, I rub my temples. My despair is short-lived as my name is called to go on stage. There’s not a lot I can do about the missed period tonight, so I’m going to go out there and dance my ass off. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.
Loud bass pounds from the speakers as I stroll up the stairs to the pole. Lights flash, blinding me from the patrons, but that’s how I like it. This is for me. Not them. My routine is meant to seduce. I mean, my name’s Siren, after all. Money rains onto the stage and I haven’t even gotten to the good part. Reaching above my head, I grab the pole and slide down into the splits. There are whistles of appreciation, and I bite back a smile. Using my arms, I pull myself back to a standing position and then work the pole like there’s no tomorrow. It’s exhilarating and addicting. Everything else fades away as I get lost in the music.
By the time the song ends, I feel euphoric. But all that fades away when the lights stop flashing and I see Tool staring up at me.
Fuck.
CHAPTER FOUR
Tool’s sitting at a table near the stage with some prospects from the club. He’s gripping his beer and frowns when someone says something to him. His gaze lands on me, and it sears my back as I saunter off stage. Holy moly, what is he doing here? I don’t think he’s even been to the strip club since I’ve known him. That has me frowning. Is he here to pick up a girl? A lot of the guys do it…
Someone says, “Siren, a customer has requested you in the VIP room.”
My stupid little heart hopes it’s Tool.
“I need five,” I answer.
After freshening up my make-up and hair, I make my way to the main floor. The floor manager points toward Tool’s table, and my heart flip-flops in my chest. Planting a smile on my face, I stroll to the table with practiced ease.
“Hello, gentlemen. I hear someone would like a dance?”
I make eye contact with three of the four men, purposely avoiding Tool. But he’s the first to speak.
“We didn’t order a dance fromyou.”
A prospect clears his throat. “Actually, I did. I would, uh, like a dance. Please. If you don’t mind.”
Hoping my smile doesn’t falter, I nod. “Sure. Let’s go. Bryon, right?”
The poor kid is sweating bullets, so even though I’m disappointed, I’m not going to let him know. I hold out my hand when he doesn’t move, and realize his gaze is trained on Tool, who’s glaring at him like he’s about to rip off his head.
“Ma’am, I think I’m going to have to pass.”
Ma’am? Ick. Way to make me feel old.
