"Fuck the world, Sadie. You're beautiful, just as you are. What difference does it make to anyone that you like things that have nice square angles? Is anybody negatively affected because you want to clean or that you knock precisely five times? I'm more dangerous than you are," I said, my voice trailing off.
My hatred for my PTSD was crippling, and I understood Sadie's hesitance in being open about what she suffered from to some extent. Probably better than most. Sadie came across so confident. She wore her not giving a fuck what anyone thought of her like armor to disguise the wounded woman who cared too much that the world would judge her for existing the way she was born.
"Growing up, it was always my brothers,” Sadie sighed, pausing to swallow loudly. “Dad's boys would take over the gym when they grew up. As they got older, one by one they started expressing interests elsewhere. First it was Oliver, then it was Ethan. I should have been next, right? But he never so much as hinted at it. He never wanted to give me a chance, even though I was the one who was there every day after school. It didn't matter that my brothers all played soccer or basketball instead of doing karate like me. It didn't matter that they spent their time doing anything else while I learned kickboxing. He skipped right past me and hung his hopes on Lucas, who doesn't have a business savvy bone in his body," she said, rubbing at one of her eyes in a rare show of vulnerability.
Wincing, I said the only thing I could to help ease the sting of being passed over for everything she'd ever wanted. "He loves you."
"He does," she agreed. "I know that. But it doesn't change the fact that I was his last option. It didn't stop him from looking at you like you hung the moon and could help me manage his legacy, because in his eyes I can't do it on my own. If I were one of my brothers? I'd already own the gym. That's the brutal reality. Instead, he still owns it and I'm just a manager, six years after he retired."
"I'm not going to have anything to do with the gym," I reassured her. "That's your baby. I'm helping you find a location because I want you to be safe, not because I want to tell you how to run it."
"I know, and I understand that. I might hate it, but I also know that it's for the best. Even if we don't go anywhere in the long run, I am always going to be associated with Matteo because of Ivory. I can't keep burying my head and pretending that I'm not involved in the criminal side of the city. But if my father already doubts my ability to run the gym—and he does—can you imagine what might happen if he gets wind of my disorder? It will just be another reason for him to think I can't do it," she whispered.
Reaching over to grasp her hand in mine and rest them on her thigh, I squeezed. Our relationship, while serious to me, wasn't at the point where I felt comfortable interceding on her behalf. I'd stress her abilities to her father when I could, but I wasn't comfortable enough with either of them to have a conversation with him about how his actions affected Sadie. My guess after meeting him was that Oscar had no idea how his passive comments and lack of faith upset Sadie. That she felt like less than her brothers, even though the two of them had far more in common than he had with his sons.
There was nothing to be said in the face of disappointing a parent when all we wanted was to earn their approval. She might not have said it, but the words hung in the air, regardless.
Nothing she did would ever be enough for her father to see her the way she wanted.
The way she deserved.
The last thing I wanted to do was bring Sadie back to Tease. The woman could find trouble in a nunnery. Bringing her to a house of sin and expecting her not to play was just plain dumb.
Rebel wasn't a fan of the loud music, her intelligent eyes casting judgment on the scantily clad girls as we made our way through the main space.
Some of the girls blew Sadie kisses as we passed, actions that Sadie returned while men glanced her way despite the already half-naked women available to be the evening's entertainment. Tease housed some of the most beautiful women and best strippers in the city.
Something about Sadie shone from within, making her glow brighter than they did, even in their element. She might not have legs long enough to touch the sky or the biggest tits in the house, but she had a face that knocked men on their asses, with angled honey eyes framed by thick eyelashes that were as dark as night. She'd slipped on a pair of distressed jeans that showed the golden tone to her tawny skin on her thighs, and a black t-shirt with a whiskey brand on it.
She guided the way through the club in that confident way she had. The walls had risen higher than ever after her revelations about her relationship with her father the night before. Blocking me out to the best of her ability, she strutted through the space like she owned it. I allowed it, knowing it was a temporary defense that I'd eventually wear down.
Guilt still consumed me that I'd hurt her, even if the physical injury hadn't been severe enough to leave marks. Being attacked in her sleep couldn't have been easy for Sadie, given the events that led to our meeting. While she never talked about it or acted like she had any fear because of it, I knew that, as with anything else where Sadie was concerned, it wasn't as simple as it seemed. The bouncer guarding the door to the back rooms nodded to her as she approached, shoving it open for her. The nod to me came secondary.
It seemed my Baby Girl had made more of an impression than I'd thought. Why didn't that come as a surprise?
She made right for Yavin's office, smiling at the girls she passed and not caring in the slightest for their various states of undress. Not all women were so comfortable in their nudity, but Sadie smacked the girl who'd given her a lap dance a few nights prior on the ass as she walked by.
She threw open Yavin's door without knocking, and I sighed with a hint of laughter strangling my voice. A week ago, I'd have said that was a great way to get a show, given the revolving door of women that went in and out of Yav's office.
But now he just glowered up at the intruder from his place at his desk, typing away furiously on the keyboard. "Fuck. There's no way it's been a week," he said, scrubbing his hand over his face.
"Not yet," I smirked, thoroughly enjoying the harassed look on his face. I knew he did it with love, but I also partially wondered if seeing that expression hurt Sadie. People feigned annoyance with her a lot. Knowing what I did about her lack of confidence, I suspected the affection behind it was often lost on her.
"Bryan is showing Sandro a rundown of the pick ups. I showed him how it goes at Indulgence earlier, and now I get the joy of showing him here. Twice in one day," I grunted.
"Right. Because a cash hand off is rocket science," Yavin said with a roll of his eyes. "I've got her. Go get your shit done so you can both get out of my face."
"Oh, touchy," Sadie laughed. The interrogation and suspicion about Aoife's involvement in the cause for his crappy mood already built inside her beautiful, twisted head.
Jumping in before she could start, I pointed a finger at her. "No lap dances today either."
She pouted up at me, twisting her face into a beautiful temptation that made me want to show her what I could do with those pursed lips. Especially now that I knew what they felt like wrapped around my cock.
"What's the point of being in a strip club if I can't strip or get stripped on?"
She had a point there, but while I might tolerate many aspects of her adventurous personality and desire to try new things, letting her take off her clothes for a room full of men would never be on that list. "If I ever catch you on a pole, I'll spoon out the eyeballs of every man who sees you," I reminded her.
"Well, that's extreme," Sadie said, smirking at me with the playful smile that made me wonder if she'd considered trying it. Pushing those boundaries just to see if I'd keep my word probably sounded like a grand adventure to Sadie. I didn't think she'd enjoy it so much in reality.
Eyeballs were gross and empty eye sockets? Even worse.
She dropped into her chair as Rebel curled up at her feet. Kissing the top of her head, I whispered a warning to be good before I tur
ned and left the room.
I wanted to go home. Sandro was a good kid, if a little slow to learn new things. But in that moment, he stood between me and some actual quality time with my woman, and that was something that didn't seem to come often enough between the gym and my responsibilities to the Bellandis.
A whiskey and a night at home called my name.
26
Sadie
"Well?" I asked, reaching down to stroke Rebel's fur. She seemed particularly on guard, hanging closer to me than normal. I suspected the music in the main lounge had aggravated her, and I worked to relax her.
The music had never upset her at the gym, but it was more of a background noise than the pulsing bass that you felt in your bones.
The best way to listen to music, if I was honest. But clients at the gym had to hear their trainers sadly.
"Well, what?" Yavin snapped back.
"Well, what crawled up your ass and died? Where's the smile?" I asked.
He grunted, rubbing his hands over his face. "Aoife is refusing to plan the wedding. She says she has no interest in planning something she doesn't want, and there's no need for a grand ceremony. She told me to just sign the check I write to her father, and the deal will be done."
"Ouch," I muttered. "I know nothing about these kinds of marriages before you go biting my head off, but are you actually writing her father a check for the right to marry her?"
"No!" Yavin said in exasperation. "Yes, it's arranged. I know I stand to gain from it since I'll be taking over for Liam after he retires. I don't care about any of that. I don't even want it."
"So why did you agree to marry her?" I asked, tilting my head to the side and encouraging him to admit the truth to himself through me. I didn't know Aoife, but I knew if I'd been in that situation, I'd have probably given Yavin shit until the day I died.
Unless he actually wanted me.
"She's far from a burden," Yavin said hesitantly. At my raised eyebrow and discerning look, he chuckled and finally continued on. "Okay, okay. I saw her. I wanted her. I didn't even want a fucking wife, but I volunteered before my brain caught up to what I was doing."
"So you regret it?" I asked, hoping to hell the answer wasn't a yes. I'd probably kill him if he went through with the marriage when he regretted it before it even happened.
"No," he admitted. "I don't. It just makes no sense. Let's be real here."
I shrugged and stood, walking around the office to examine the lack of personal effects. It was like he'd never really settled into his job at Tease, even though he'd managed it for nearly a decade. "You should put her picture on your desk. Maybe the shelf. Not a sexy picture or anything like that, but something sweet. Go to the effort, so that when she comes to your office for the first time, she can see that she's been here all along. Don't tell her about it or point it out, because that just reeks of looking for brownie points. Let her notice it organically," I murmured.
"I don't have any pictures of her. She refuses to spend time with me in her ‘last few months of freedom’," he groaned.
"So ask her father, stalk her on social media. Put in some fucking effort, Romeo. All she wants is to feel like you actually want her and not what she can give you. You work in a strip club. That is automatically going to work against you. She'll assume you're sleeping around. You proudly displaying her photo for all the girls to see will help that a bit, but not enough. If you haven't already done this, I highly suggest you take a vow of celibacy until she's ready to give it up. The last thing you need is one of the girls talking about how good you dicked them down last week when Aoife starts coming in."
He stared at me like I'd lost my damn mind, and I thought for a moment I'd have to smack some sense into him. "You think I'd agree to an engagement and still sleep around? Fuck, Sandman. Your opinion of me is flattering." He pulled out his phone, tapping away as, I assumed, he brought up Aoife's social media accounts.
"I can't believe I just encouraged you to stalk her." I shook my head, pacing around the room some more. "Keep texting her regularly, but not about the wedding. For her, the wedding is a symbol of your control over her life and a reminder about the arrangement. Ask her questions about herself. Tell her about yourself within moderation. Nobody likes a man who talks about himself constantly. Ask her opinion on disputes with work or what the fuck ever. For advice on your sister if you need to buy Samara a gift. Anything that involves her as a person and not just a contract."
"So treat her like I'm trying to date her even though we're engaged? And do all this through text messages?"
"Does she take your phone calls?" I asked.
"That would be a no," he laughed.
"Then yes, through text. Go to the house and ask to see her. If she won't see you leave flowers or something inexpensive but sweet. Just show her you're trying, but not buying her affection. It may not help much before the wedding, but hopefully it will ease the transition once you're married."
He nodded, spinning the phone to show me her social media. I scrolled through the photos, examining them one by one to find the perfect matches for what Yavin needed. "This one on your desk," I said, pointing to a picture of her smiling at the camera in what seemed to be a candid moment. "And this on your shelf." The photo was more posed, her doing some kind of dance leap on the edge of a fountain with the water splashing behind her. With her strawberry blonde hair like a halo and her long legs perfectly displayed by pointed toes, jealousy struck me. I wanted legs like that.
Life wasn't fair.
I dropped the phone on his desk, moving to the door. "I have to pee. Can I do that alone since it's two doors down, my jailer?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. He smiled at me finally as his printer whirred to life on the other side of the room.
"Sure. If you aren't back in five minutes though, I'll tell Enzo you beat me up before you ran."
"Asshole," I laughed, tripping as Rebel ran out the door in front of me. "I guess Rebel is coming to the bathroom with me."
"Okay," he responded, already turning his attention back to his phone as he typed furiously. Hopefully, he'd take my advice and work to nurture his relationship with Aoife, otherwise I didn't see it going anywhere fast.
"Oh, tell Aoife she should come to our next girls' night!" I shouted as I made my way down the hall. The bathroom was small with only two stalls inside it. Neither of them was handicap accessible, so when Rebel insisted on cramming herself inside with me, it was less than convenient. "What's up with you, baby?" I asked, reaching down to scratch behind her ears before I went about my business.
Public bathrooms were the bane of my existence, but I managed not to touch anything in a move worthy of a contortionist. Rebel stuck her nose underneath the stall, sniffing in deep breaths of air. It was a clean bathroom, with none of the lingering stench that came in public restrooms.
Quite the drama queen, my dog was.
When I pulled open the stall door, she moved out first. Her bark was the first warning as I stepped out, a forearm locking around my throat was the second.
"Shut her up before I shoot her." The man's voice was deep, unfamiliar as the pressure of a gun pressed into the back of my head. I raised my hands up, locking eyes with Rebel.
"Quiet, Rebel," I said sternly, willing her to listen. She stopped immediately, staring at the unseen attacker behind me as her mouth twitched and she bared her teeth in the first sign of real aggression I'd ever seen from her. When the man's body relaxed slightly, I spoke. "I don't have any money on me." Locking my left hand over the hand on the front of my shoulder, I threw my head forward at the same time I raised my right elbow into the hand holding his weapon. Ducking and spinning my body quickly as the force of it shoved him to the side and fucked up his aim, I locked his gun arm between my bicep and my torso to control his reaction. Both hands surrounded the gun, fighting for control as I jabbed an elbow into his face. Blood sprayed from his nose, and I stomped down onto his foot with all my strength.
Using his distraction
, I locked my left hand across the barrel of the gun and spun his entire arm until it faced him. With the gun pointed at him, he froze. He stared up at me with wide eyes, and with satisfaction I watched his chin split when I raised my foot and kicked him in it. He fell to his back, releasing his hold on the gun as I moved to his feet and aimed it at his face.
Rebel's vicious growl echoed through the bathroom as she ran between my legs, jumping on top of his chest and looking like a vicious predator I never could have expected. She stood guard, and I fell a little more in love with her as she fought to protect me. When the attacker grabbed her by the scruff to yank her off, she bared her teeth and wrapped her jaw around his throat.
"Rebel!" I yelled in shock as she bit down, shaking her head side to side as she tore his throat open and blood pooled quickly on the floor. It spread across the tile, the deep red staining them forever. When she finally pulled back, blood coated her teeth like something monstrous. I glanced at the man with slash wounds in what remained of his throat and empty, unseeing eyes that stared up at the ceiling.
Dead as a doornail.
Glancing down, I watched Rebel jump off his body and raise a paw to lick as she cleaned her face.
I cooed at her, watching her glance up at me and step into my body to nuzzle her face on my pants as I dropped my hands to my side with the gun still clutched tightly in one.
"Good girl."
Strippers, as it turned out, were pretty familiar with lots of gross shit.
But not blood, it seemed.
After the first came into the restroom and ran out screaming, I decided it was time to face the music and let Yavin know. He'd probably be smart to make a run for Tahiti before Enzo found out.
A girl stood outside in the hall, heading straight for the bathroom. "I don't suggest going in there. My dog lost her marbles and kind of ate somebody. Messy business." I shook my head when she gaped after me, and headed for Yavin's office. He was already coming out, alerted by the eardrum-piercing scream.
Shielded Wrongs: A Dark Mafia Romance (Bellandi Crime Syndicate Book 4) Page 26