His head whips back up until he’s staring me straight in the eyes. That’s when he shows me some of his former self. That’s when I see how people feared him, even though to us he’s never been anything but loveable. Even at his age, right then is when he schools me on how to be a man and step up.
“Your dad had some fucked-up notions about your mum,” he says, and my shoulders tense. “Not like that. Never fucking like that,” he growls at me. I relax momentarily but tense again waiting for him to tell me the rest. “He didn’t think he deserved her. Not going to get into that. It’s their business. There are some things you don’t need to know. What I will say is he loves your mum. There was never anyone else for him, but I had to make him understand that she felt the same way about him too. Now it seems I gotta pull your head outta your arse as well.”
“Touching Uncle D, but I don’t get why my head needs to be pulled outta my arse,” I reply.
“She’s working at ShadowBox,” he snarls. My body goes from rigid to stone. I can hear the blood rushing through my ears as my fists curl in on themselves. “Took everything in me not to drag her arse outta there myself, but she’s yours. She’s always been yours. I didn’t see her dance. Thank fucking Christ. If I did, nothing would have stopped me tearing up the stage, putting her in my car, and dragging her to my sister. I am going to talk to Pea and Con, they need to step in… if you won’t.”
“I’ll sort her out.” The words come out in a low bark. I try to unlock my body, but everything in me is fighting against the information he’s just imparted. Via’s working at a strip club? No. Fuck that. Via is stripping at a fucking strip club.
“I can see you’re pissed, nephew. Rein it in. You need to deal with Liv in the right way. You bulldoze this, and you’ll get her out of there, but that will be all you manage. She’ll shut you out. She’s like her mum.” His tone’s softer now, back to being Uncle Dane and not Black Ops Dane.
“Why would I care? My goal is just to get her out of that shit hole and make sure she’s not showing her fucking body to every low life in London.”
“Then I haven’t pulled your head out of your arse yet,” he grinds out.
“You know the situation I’m in, you know what my life is. You know,” I emphasise.
“You’re right, I do know. What I know is that life’s short, don’t waste a fucking second, Isaac. Trust me on that.”
I say nothing, just stare ahead while I wait for him to give me the rest. “Isaac, you’ve known Liv her entire life. You know that you hold the world in your hands as far as she’s concerned. She can’t see past you.” Gently, he places his hand on my shoulder. “You have to know that.”
I nod and avert my eyes from his. “She’s my cousin. She’s family.”
“And if you don’t wake up, that’s all she’ll ever be. One day you’ll open your eyes, and realise… she’s someone else’s.” He taps my shoulder and walks away, calling back as he goes, “Two days Isaac, then I go speak to Pea and Con about Liv. Let me know you’ve sorted it, or haven’t… and if not, I’ll sort it.”
My big body slumps onto the bench, and I heave out a sigh. Tonight I’m going to ShadowBox. Tonight is the last time Olivia McKenna takes her clothes off for anyone. The words ‘but me’ drift through my head. I shake off the notion. “Fuck, I need to get a lid on this,” I murmur to myself.
My mobile rings and I pull it from my front pocket. “Shelly,” I grunt.
“There’s movement on the shipment.”
“Handle it. I’m busy.”
“What the fuck? This is what we’ve been waiting for.”
“Shit,” I growl pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Fine. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” I cut the call before she can say another word.
One way or another, I’m getting to ShadowBox tonight and pulling Via’s arse out of there.
LIV
I stare at myself in the long mirror. My eyes flit up and down and up again. The matching bra and French knickers are gorgeous, not designed for pole dancing, but still so comfy and stretchy. I knew the moment Allegro showed them to me they were what I needed. A break from the PVC outfits the other women wear. I wanted class—well, as classy as possible when you’re hanging upside down on a pole revealing your tits to a room full of strangers. Even so, the maroon colour against my tan skin looks gorgeous, and the fact that the set is lace gives it that extra something. It’s the shoes that pull my attention, though—black, high, peep-toe. The straps attached to them are what made me buy them. I’ve always loved straps that wind up your legs, over your calf. These straps criss-cross and then criss-cross some more, all the way to my thighs. The tattoos that cover most of my body help the overall look. This new outfit will be a hit, I have no doubt.
People say that confidence is what you need to do this job. Liars. It’s not confidence that’s needed. It’s being in a place where you don’t give a shit anymore. I’ve reached that place. But it’s not rock bottom, it’s not even down low. The stripping is something I never imagined I would do, but I love the escape my job gives me and the freedom. The facts are solid, even if I were working on something like a west-end show, I would be dancing someone else’s moves. Not mine, never mine.
On this stage, the only requirement put on me is to be sexy. The moves here I choose, all of them. I always wanted theatre, but that ship has long since sailed. Now, after a year of working here, I’ve realised that as long as I don’t care, then I can be whoever I want, play a role, pick my poison. Or, I can just be Liv. It’s my choice. When the fear subsided, it dawned on me that there was no one to worry about, nobody who was going to be pissed. Well, nobody that I felt had a say in my life. I realised I could do this and see it as a job using my self-confidence to get me through, or I could see this as my stage, my chance to do what I wanted. That thought was as freeing then as it still is now.
With a new outfit and new song, I walk onto the dark stage.
Taking my place, I stand with my legs apart, hands gripped to the cool steel bar, and I wait for the first few beats of the music. My eyes close the minute Zayn Malik’s ‘Pillowtalk’ starts, then the lights come up, and my eyes shoot open. I pull myself up wrapping my legs around the pole feeling the cold, hard metal under my fingers. I climb to the top before the chorus kicks in. At that point, I let my head and arms fall back and slide all the way back down. Then I make some basic moves on the pole like the chopper and kiss, stuff that gets the crowd going. I know the chorus is coming again, this isn’t a long song, so I need to take my bra off soon. Pulling myself from the pole, I take a slow extended cartwheel until I end up sitting on the floor doing the splits. I reach my hands up, then twist them behind my back to unhook my bra. I don’t see the men or women. I don’t see the lights, the bar, or bouncers. When I strip it’s all about the dancing. Nothing else exists.
My fingers touch my back, but I never get the chance to pop the clip before I’m lifted from the stage. The music continues, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the boos and hisses of the people around me. The shouting starts, and it jolts me into the here and now. I realise I’m being kidnapped. My hands come up, gripping onto the man’s shoulders. I’m about to claw at his eyes when I register—it’s Isaac. He’s striding across the club, with me in his arms, heading backstage. My jaw drops and confusion takes residence in my brain.
I notice Leo, the floor manager, marching toward us. He’s yelling, but against the music and people shouting, I can’t hear what he’s saying. Although, the russet colour of his cheeks and the anger in his eyes tells me he doesn’t like the fact that I’ve been manhandled from the stage. I hear him shout something about how he’s going to kill Isaac if he doesn’t put me down. The minute he gets close enough, he raises his hand ready to lash out. Isaac slams his elbow into Leo’s face, without faltering in his step. I watch as Leo drops to the floor while we carry on moving.
Once we make it through the backstage door, Isaac drops me down but grabs my hand, glarin
g at me. He looks like he’s ready to spit fire, he speaks through gritted teeth when he asks, “dressing room?” I don’t reply verbally, I just point in the direction he needs to go. We make it behind the door, and he bolts it from the inside.
“What the fuck, Via?” he roars. I blink, staring into his face as I watch it contort with anger.
“What?” I ask, shock and confusion coursing through me.
“What the actual fuck?” he asks again, the muscle in his cheek jumping as the rage brews inside him. He points to my outfit. “You’re taking your fucking clothes off now?”
I feel a bubble of anger start to ferment low in my stomach. “What’s it got to do with you?” I snap, standing up and throwing my hands on my hips.
“You’re… you’re—”
“I’m what? Last time we were anything to each other was years ago, you’ve made it plain that I’m nobody,” I tell him as I watch him pace back and forth across the small dressing room.
“You have never been, and never fucking will be, nobody,” he growls, his eyes cutting back to me. He looks up and down my body, anger is at the surface, but I can see a hunger behind his eyes too.
“Your note had four lines, Isaac, and that’s what it told me. Anyway, my job has nothing to do with you, it has fuck all to do with anyone. I’m doing me, you do you.” I throw his words back at him, and his eyes flash with what looks like hurt, before he blinks and it’s back to anger.
“You can’t fucking strip in front of those guys…” he pauses and runs a hand through his hair “… they all want a piece of you.”
“Well, maybe I want to give them a piece of me!” I scream, throwing my arms in the air. He stops pacing, turns, then stalks to me. His big body would be enough to force me backwards, but it’s the aura surrounding him that makes me step back and back again, it doesn’t stop him closing in. I back all the way up until my calves hit the sofa, but Isaac still doesn’t stop. The moment his body is lined up with mine, touching all the way from top to bottom, I fall back onto the couch. Even that doesn’t halt him as he puts an arm either side of me and leans down. His head moves until his lips rest against mine, both our mouths open, breathing heavily into each other. Our chests rise and fall simultaneously in quick succession. His eyes pierce mine, neither of us blinking.
“Don’t give them a piece of you.” His voice is soft, so much so I’m almost convinced I’ve imagined the words.
“What?” I whisper, but I know he hears me when his eyes flare. Before he gets a chance to answer there’s a small commotion and the bathroom door opens into our space. Malena walks quickly toward the outer door muttering apologies. Through all that, our eyes don’t break the contact of our intense stare. When she leaves and the door clicks shut, it’s like it kick-starts his brain again, and his eyes close, breaking our moment. He keeps his eyes closed, taking a long breath in before exhaling, then he pulls himself back, away from me, and I feel the distance like a bitter wind.
“Get dressed, you can’t do this shit. You’re better than this, showing your body off to drunken dicks. This isn’t dancing, no matter what you think. If you don’t get your shit together, I’m calling your mum.” His words are like a knife to my heart. After having that moment, I thought maybe we’d turned a corner. I should have realised that wasn’t what was happening. I need to learn. It’s time to cut the strings tying me to him. The strings I’ve been the only one holding onto.
“Go back to, Shelly.” The words come out in a raw whisper, and I know he hears my pain as he flinches. “Go,” I repeat.
His jaw clenches, and I see the muscles in his cheeks tick. Then, just like that, he spins around and strides out.
Poof.
He’s gone again.
ISAAC
‘Smack, thump… smack, thump… smack, thump.…’ I watch as the punching bag swings away and hit it again on its return. ‘Smack, thump...’
“What’s bitten your arse?” Shelly asks standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. I continue to hit the bag but keep my eyes on her. She’s lean, around five-foot-nine with shoulder-length auburn hair. She has a few freckles dotted across her nose and cheeks, her eyes are light brown, and she has a little gap in her front teeth. She’s pretty, there’s no denying it, but what works in her favour is the innocent thing she has going on. Nobody ever thinks she’s Black Ops and could kill someone in a matter of seconds—that little nugget of information has worked in her favour, and mine, on more than one occasion.
There’s never been anything between us, there never will be, but I have to convince everyone differently tonight as we attend Uncle Con and Aunt Pea’s anniversary party. Shelly is coming with me as my new girlfriend. I wanted to go alone, but Dad pointed out the farce that is our relationship has been laid out for everyone, so they will be expecting her to come. Only four people in my family know what I really do—Mum, Dad, Uncle Dane, and Tobias. The only other person who knows outside of my organisation is a friend of mine who got out of this life a year ago.
“Do we have to go to this thing tonight?” Shelly asks when she realises I’m not going to answer her first question.
“‘Fraid so,” I throw back, grabbing the bag and halting its swing. I walk over to the bench and pick up my towel wiping my face down.
“Shit, I hate this part,” she grumbles, picking at her nails and not seeming too bothered at all.
“You and me both,” I snap.
“Okay touchy, is it your time of the month?” she asks with a smirk.
“Just go get changed into something more feminine,” I order looking at her jogging bottoms and shapeless t-shirt, which is her usual attire.
“Fine,” she groans and stalks out.
I lean back against the gym wall. I had the house renovated and a brick building installed at the bottom of the garden so I could have a gym. The intention was to only come back for a couple of weeks, but that timeline grew, and one job turned into two. It seems the scum of the world like to operate in London these days. Lucky me.
Every moment I spend here I’m in pain though, needing her, wanting my Via back.
Seems like the Via who now exists isn’t the same girl I once knew. The short-haired pixie covered in tats, the one that has confusion mixed with pain etched all over her beautiful face every time I see her now, is a whole new person. She’s grown from the girl I knew to a sexy-as-fuck woman. I always held myself back from her, no matter how I felt. I never believed our family would accept it, accept us. By the time I acknowledged that I didn’t give a fuck what they thought, I was only given one night—a night that made me realise she was my future, a night that changed my life.
That’s why I need to introduce her to Shelly, and soon, so she knows I’m unavailable, but more than that, so I remember I’m unavailable. I’ve always kept Via away from me, she deserves more than what I can offer. I always hoped she would move on, for her own sake, even though she’d be taking my heart with her. No matter how much I think about her, I can’t allow the selfishness to win. I don’t want to drag her into my world.
Now I have a bigger issue in my head—her stripping. If I don’t get her to quit, then Uncle Dane will go to her parents. I need to convince her, fuck knows how. The truth is I don’t know her anymore, so I can’t press the right buttons. Via hates me, and I don’t blame her. After a year away, Toby said she was getting restless. She was threatening to visit me, so I sent her a note through him. He pretended I gave it to him on a prison visit. I remember the note like the ink’s still wet. Four lines I knew would hurt her. Four lines that crushed what was left of my heart.
Olivia,
Stop asking everyone about me.
I have more important things going on in my life right now.
You do you, and I’ll do me.
Isaac.
The note was cold. I even used her proper name rather than the nickname I always called her. I wanted her to hate me. I guess I succeeded and now she does, and fuck if those words haven’t come ba
ck to bite me on the arse. The problem is I’m conflicted. I’m never conflicted. I choose my path carefully and only divert if it’s a necessity. Via is an anomaly for me, not because I can’t control her, although she’s definitely not submissive, but because I can’t control my fucking feelings for her. My heart, brain, and dick all have different thoughts going on when Via is on my mind, and the damn woman doesn’t even need to be in the room.
I look down at my now-straining cock and shake my head with a groan. “Just thinking of her, and you’re like a fifteen-year-old boy again.” I scrub my hand down my face. “Shit.” Striding over to the single shower in the gym, I turn it on and strip off my clothes, throwing them in my bag. I’m only twenty feet from the house, but I always bring a bag to take my clothes back. Just outside the shower I have a stand which houses three small lockers. Shelly has the key to one, and I have another, which I keep a few sets of clothes in. The third one is free so we have it piled high with towels. Dividing the gym time means we both get peace in here. She takes evening and night, and I have free rein all day. I step under the hot water as the steam billows out around the room.
I only ever had one night with Via, but that fucking night plays over and over on a reel in my head, almost until I can’t breathe. Today, it’s settled on making my dick throb, so I wrap my hand around my girth and grant myself a couple of tugs. Closing my eyes, I think about Via, my mind’s eye decides to imagine her stripping and as much as I want her to stop doing it for other people, all I can think of is Via giving me a private show.
“Ahhh,” I hiss out as my hand glides back and forth. I rub my thumb across the head of my dick as the pre-cum dribbles out. My thoughts finally progress to her kneeling in front of me and taking me in her mouth. “Fuck yeah,” I grind the words out through gritted teeth as I slip over the edge.
When I come back down and open my eyes, all I see are the white tiled walls and the pain slams into me again, knowing that’s as much as I’m ever going to get.
Twisted Truth (Truth Vs Lie Book 1) Page 5