Page 2 of Pretty Dark Vows

It was a pretty lucrative shift, especially for an off night, and now I’m looking forward to getting home and putting my feet up. Maybe Chloe is watching one of those cult documentaries she loves so much.

A new song blares through the speakers as Cherry starts her set, and I cut down a hallway, heading toward the dressing rooms at the back of the club.

“Hey,” a voice calls out from behind me. “Hey, Destiny, hold up, baby.”

Fuck. It’s Musclehead.

Patrons aren’t supposed to be back here, but he must’ve slipped through the door after me. I ignore him, not answering but picking up my pace a little. Before I can reach the dressing room, Musclehead catches up to me, getting in front of me and planting one meaty hand on the wall to block my way.

“Didn’t you hear me?” he asks, his liquor-scented breath gusting in my face. Then he waggles his eyebrows. “Or are you playing hard to get? I like it. You’re a little firecracker, aren’t you, Destiny?”

He reaches for a lock of my dyed hair as he speaks, his fingers brushing over the blue and purple strands. I jerk backward, my jaw clenching. I’m happy to tease men onstage as part of the show, but I hate how some of them are so fucking clueless—and full of themselves—that they forget it’s all an illusion.

“That’s not my real name. And you’re not allowed to be back here,” I say, keeping my voice cool and my spine straight.

“Aw, come on,” he slurs drunkenly, licking his lips. “I could see the way you were eye-fucking me out there all night.” He gestures between the two of us. “You feel it, just like I do. I know it. So why don’t we take this someplace else and see where it goes?”

My hands curl into fists, but I hold my ground, all traces of the sultry flirtation I put on while I’m performing long gone. “Why don’tyoutake it someplace else? Because I’m done for the night, and that means I’m done dealing with assholes like you.”

He laughs, smiling as he steps closer—as if I just told him he probably has the biggest cock in the world instead of calling him an asshole. “Come on. There’s no one else around. You don’t have to—”

He palms the back of my head as he speaks, his other hand reaching up to grope my breast, and my body snaps into motion before I even give it a conscious direction. Bracing one hand on his shoulder, I knee him in the balls, hard and fast.

“Fuck!” he shouts, doubling over and cupping himself. He staggers backward, and when he looks up at me again, the drunken leer on his face has been replaced with anger. “You fuckingbitch.”

Not bothering to point out that he’s the one who touched me first, I rest my hands on my hips, allowing a small smile to tug at my lips.

“Yeah, that’s not my name either,” I tell him dryly. “But you’re getting closer.”

Stepping around him as he groans pitifully, I head to the dressing room to get my street clothes on. Once I’m dressed, I sling my bag over my shoulder and head out the back, wrapping my arms around myself as a gust of cool air ruffles my hair.

As I cut through the alley behind the building toward the parking lot, a low grunt reaches my ears, and I pause for a second, squinting into the darkness as I peer up ahead.

Then I roll my eyes.

Two people are fucking near the mouth of the alley, and just my luck, I recognize them both. Rob, my ex, and a new dancer who goes by Sugar.

Cherry would probably start a cat fight if she saw this, but I honestly have no clue why. He’s not worth fighting over. He talked a good talk and seemed different at first, but I should have known better than to believe it.

Never date men you meet at the club.

It was a good rule, and the one time I broke it only reinforced how necessary that rule is.

Rob has Sugar pinned to the wall, her face shoved against the damp bricks as he takes her from behind. Even if I didn’t have a clear view of them, I’d know it was him just from the disgusting grunting sounds he makes, like a rutting pig, as he pounds into her.

My asshole ex is under the mistaken impression that fucking his way through the other strippers here—and doing his damnedest to make sure I find out about it—will make me jealous.

It won’t, but that doesn’t stop him from going even harder when he catches sight of me.

I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response as I slip past them, but I can’t resist being a little petty. As soon as I get into my car, I rev the engine and swing it around so that my headlights land on the two of them.

Robwinces, holding up a hand as his pale ass shines like the moon under the glare of my headlights. Sugar yelps, shoving him away as she realizes they’re not as alone as she thought, and I suppress a chuckle as I peel out, already feeling a bit better.

Maybe he’ll finally get the message that I’m done with his bullshit.

The club is only a few miles from the apartment I share with Chloe, and at this time of night, the streets are mostly empty, so it doesn’t take me long to get home. She’s still awake when I unlock the door and let myself in, curled up on the couch watching TV.

“Hey, sis.” She glances up, her brown eyes—a lighter shade than mine—a little fuzzy with sleep. She’s probably been dozing, waiting for me to get home. “How was your shift tonight?”

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