Page 42 of City of Salvation

“Girl, you’ve been out of it for a few days now. What’s got your G -string so far up your ass?” sheasked, eyeing me from the vanity mirror. We’d been vanity neighbors for a year now, and I’d always liked her. She kept to herself and was cordial to everyone, but never asked too many questions. Naturally, she had to pick tonight of all nights to break that pattern. I blew on the glue, buying myself a few seconds to figure out an answer that didn’t sound like a total lie.

“Ehh.” I made a noncommittal grunt, shrugging a shoulder. “Tired is all. Ryan’s been in and out a lot. Adds some extra shit to my plate, you know?”

The best lies are versions of the truth. Dear ol’ dad taught me that, too.

“Of course, I think you will do great things.”

He’d left out one important part of that sentence.

“Like make me a very important man when I trade your freedom for power.”

Crystal’s toffee-colored eyes stared me down for a few seconds before she gave a slow nod and went back to applying her own strip set.

The dancers’ room was lively, and normally, I loved that about our space. Tonight, it was grating on my nerves. Concha had “16 Shots” blasting so loud I was surprised Ricky hadn’t walked back here already, yelling at us to turn it down. And two of the new girls were fighting over who would go up first. It was usually the shitty spot. Most patrons didn’t show up until closer to ten, so I didn’t get why they were at each other’s throats over it. It wasn’t like it was the only dance they’d get tonight.

“Hey,” I hollered, swinging around in my chair to face the two of them, still locked in their showdown. “Cut that shit out. This isnothow this club works.” I stalked over toward where they were standing. They stared at me like two deer in headlights. “If you can’t act like professionals, find a new club, got it? This isnothow my dancers behave.”

On any other night, I would’ve pulled them aside separately and been more diplomatic about this. But tonight—tonight, I was itching for someone to fucking try me. I secretly hoped someone slapped my ass out on the floor so I could claw their eyes out like I’d lost my damn mind. Then, at least, I could blame my need to act out on the situation instead of admitting to the truth.

That there was this swirl of emotions turning in my gut and making me feel restless.

One of the girls sneered. “What do you mean,yourdancers?”

A sigh came from behind me. I guessed it belonged to Crystal, but didn’t turn around to confirm that theory. Instead, I stepped closer to the bottle blonde who’d been mouthing off for weeks —Sapphire or some shit.

Ballsy bitch. I might have liked her if she wasn’t a cunt to everyone.

“What part of that do you need help understanding? Want me to pull up the dictionary definition?” I canted my head to the side, laying on the condescending tonethick. She stepped up, and her courage brought a smirk to my face. Mainly because she probably thought I’d back down.

“What part didyounot understand, bitch? ” Spit landed on my chest, which was unfortunate because I’d already dosed myself in the devil’s dust—which wasn’t a drug, it was glitter. I couldn’t even wipe off her disgusting DNA.

Crystal appeared next to me, her hands raised between us placatingly. “Alright, let’s all calm down. Maybe take a shot? Fucking hug it out?”

Sapphire, or Emerald, or whatever the hell her name was, slapped Crystal’s arm away. It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

I wasn’t a girl’s girl.

If you were a cunt. I was a cunt right back.

“Listen here, you fucking twat-waffle,” I yelled, launching myself at her with the intention of punching her in her stupid face, with her drawn-on freckles and blush that was so intense she might as well use pink face paint. She shrieked as my fist flew toward her, thumb untucked like Ryan had taught me so I didn’t break anything in my hand again.

But it never connected.

A steel band wrapped around my midsection, and suddenly, my back was pressed against something warm and hard. Something that smelled like leather and cedarwood.

Something vibrating with a deep voice that made my insides flutter.

“Woah, woah, woah. What the fuck is going on in here on this day?” Dex asked, clearly amused if the shaking of his chest with silent laughter was anything to go by.

“She tried to attack me,” the bitch sobbed, laying the tears on thick enough she could flood the place.

Oh, please. Your ass deserved it.

Or maybe she didn’t deserve the black eye I was planning for her, and I was being over dramatic…but I never claimed to make the best choices in life.

“Spitfire?” I looked up, meeting Dex’s hazel eyes, noticing that there was more green than brown in them that night. “What happened that you decided to go all WWE on her?”

“It was more UFC,” I mumbled. The sarcastic answer earned me a genuine laugh from him, and as much as I wanted to stay pissed off, the belly laugh brought a smile to my face. I had two realizations in that moment.

---