Chapter 9: Ryker

It was possible I assumed far too much based on what I saw, but I'd learned a lot being locked up. The most important being to read people. The notion that eyes were the window to the soul wasn't a misnomer; it was absolute truth. I'd studied more people than I cared to admit, most of which weren't worthy of the air they breathed. Once a person figured out how to identify evil, innocence was easy, and rage was an emotion no one hid well. This girl was living and breathing that animosity. All in my direction.

Her three minutes ended faster than I cared for them to. The music stopped, the crowd erupted, and she stood there in nothing other than a strip of fabric-that couldn't legitimately be considered panties-and sinful boots. Seething, she looked into me. Clearly, I wasn't the only one who could see beyond appearances and into the heart of who someone was. Her eye makeup accentuated the piercing stare aimed solely at me. I had only hated my association with Chase Silvano one other time in my life, and that incident had landed me in prison.

Money dripped from what little bit of her costume she still wore, the stage floor was littered with dollar bills, and then she was gone.

My chest heaved, and I didn't have to check my pulse to know my heart raced with a vengeance. The beat throbbed in my neck, ticking away a steady cadence. I could feel it in my fingers and my chest. And when I sat back down, it took effort to ignore Starr without barking. Instead, I turned to the bartender and ordered another glass of scotch. That was only her first dance of the night. I'd have to endure two more before she finished for the evening. My only saving grace, the only thing that kept me from getting ousted by one of the bouncers, was the fact that, once again, she hadn't come out on the floor to solicit privates. A drug conviction would have been a walk in the park compared to the murder charge I'd face if one of these douchebags touched her.

Sitting at the bar, thinking about the damage I'd do to someone to keep them away from her, my cock was hard as a fucking rock. I wasn't certain if it was her naked image that aroused me or the thought of protecting her-both were ludicrous, but one of the two absolutely existed.

The lyrics to her song bounced around in my head while I waited for her to retake the stage. Diamond made a statement, even if I didn't know what she tried to say. If there were any truth to the song I'd just heard, I wondered what her secrets were and how she'd gotten tangled up with U21.

Another drink did nothing to soothe the beast inside me, but thankfully, the vibe I put off kept Starr and the other girls away. Each dancer made rounds on the floor after they performed, picking up some random schmuck who'd grease their palm with a hundred bucks to have them grind their lap with no hope of anything further.

Diamond's second number left me more riled up than the first, and just like the two times previous that I'd watched her perform, I was ready to chew nails and kill anyone who dared cast a glance in her direction much less lay a finger on her. I'd had three drinks and didn't need any more if I planned to drive home, but I'd be damned if I could sit around without a sedative to keep me from stomping onto the stage, throwing her over my shoulder, and marching her perky tits out of this hell hole.

I raised my hand to get Nevaeh's attention. She sauntered my direction with her plastic boobs on display. Before she reached me, she stopped, poured me another glass, and then slid it across the bar without so much as breaking her stride. The girl might look like an idiot with horns on top of her head, but she was smart enough to recognize I wasn't someone she wanted to approach. Her gentle smile did nothing to ease my anxiety.

I nursed the fourth scotch I'd ordered since arriving and prepared myself to exit the seat the second Diamond's third number ended. There was no doubt in my mind that she wouldn't meander into the crowd. And if history repeated itself, which I fully anticipated that it would, I'd have roughly one hundred and twenty seconds to get behind the curtain after the music quit and the lights went out. She'd bolt like lightning the moment she was done, not even bothering to change out of whatever skimpy outfit she left the stage in.

There was no chance in hell I'd let her out the back door barely dressed and unescorted. She might think I was the devil incarnate, but I'd prove to her that hell hath no fury like a man bent on shielding a woman. She wasn't mine, although clearly, no one had her back, or she wouldn't be dancing for tips in a dive like Swank on U21's clock. Regardless of whether she wanted my help, there was little she could do to prevent me from interfering at this point. Diamond was too young to be caught in the clutches of the gang. For once, my affiliation with Chase would prove beneficial. I held a mark, and I was prepared to call it.

For a girl whose name I didn't know.

One who looked like she'd rather gut me with a spoon than smile in my direction.

The same one who'd run me over without ever speaking a word.

"Skin" by Rihanna filtered through the club, and I knew it was her final number before I even saw her. The other girls picked clichŽ shit. Diamond was the only dancer in Swank who chose songs that suited her stage presence, and each one ate at me a little more than the last. This girl would devour my soul before it was over, but I couldn't wait for her to feast. It would likely be aggressive and filled with trouble, yet I couldn't wait to get buried in her mess.

I'd never crossed Jesse, and certainly not for snatch I hadn't hit, but as I paid my tab at the bar, I prepared myself to take that stand-at whatever cost.

And I had no doubt, the price would be high.