“You too.” I force a smile as I watch her go, not wanting to look at Theo when he’s obviously not happy to see me. So I resort to looking around the club again, except now most of the attention of the patrons is pointed in this direction, observing Theo and the inappropriately dressed, barefoot woman standing a few feet away from him. I think if I were in my underwear, I’d feel less conspicuous than I do right now. I begin to wilt under all the curious looks, faffing with the hem of my T-shirt as I glance back to Theo. His face is blank.
“Penny is certainly…” I falter momentarily, looking for the right words. “…back on her feet,” I finish, wishing I could scurry out of here unnoticed. Or better still, wishing I hadn’t let my ears lead me in here at all. How long would he have kept me in the dark about this place?
Theo’s lips twitch, breaking into a wry smile. And for my sins, I smile, too. “Too shocked to give me a hug?” he asks.
“I think I need one.”
“Come here.” He jerks his head a little, an order, but doesn’t extend a welcoming hand.
My feet move without me telling them to, taking me to him. It’s natural, which is plain strange, because everything about this is very unnatural to me. Reaching for his shoulders, I slide my arms around him, and he holds me fiercely, making me meld into his embrace, my eyes closing, my surroundings forgotten.
“I was going to tell you,” he says quietly. “But then you said what you said earlier, and I know you don’t like violence, and…well, this place.”
“This place,” I agree, breathing in as I open my eyes. Everyone is still staring at us, including his mother, who has paused at the door. Embarrassed, I break away from Theo, feeling the heat rise in my face. “We have an audience.”
Theo doesn’t look, just slides his arm over my shoulder and pulls me into him, walking us across to the cordoned-off area where he was sitting when I stumbled in here. “I expect so.” He’s unperturbed, guiding me past the barrier and indicating for me to sit. “We should talk.”
“How about back at your room? I’m hardly dressed for this place.”
He smiles. “It’s funny.”
Funny? “What is?”
“You making your first appearance in my playground looking like you’ve just been fucked.” He winks cheekily. “I like this look on you.” He lowers into a chair and signals for a server. “Usual, and whatever Izzy would like.”
“Just water for me, please.”
“Really?” Theo asks, obviously taken aback.
“It’s three a.m.,” I point out. “I should be in bed. Why did you leave me?”
He regards me closely, sitting back in his chair. “I couldn’t sleep. Was worried about how I might explain this place to my girlfriend when I know she hates violence, and I’m pretty damn sure she hates strip clubs.”
This is where my head is at right now. A mess, really, because of all the things he just said, only one word resonates. “Girlfriend?”
His smile is faint, though I sense nerves. “Have things changed now you’ve seen my playground? Between us, I mean?” He reaches over the table for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “I hope the answer is no.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“I’ll do anything to make sure it is.”
“You own a strip club.”
“Very observant of you.”
“Is it only a strip club?” I bite my lip, nervous as shit, and when Theo’s stare takes on an edge of danger, I realize I have just put my big fat foot in it.
“The girls are safe,” he tells me, knowing that is what I need to hear. “They are paid handsomely. They keep their tips. If they don’t want to dance, they don’t. No one can touch them or approach them.”
I nod in acceptance and take my water when the waiter presents me with the tray, naturally taking Theo’s tumbler from it, too, and passing it across the table to him.
The waiter’s eyebrows jump up, and Theo smiles as he accepts the drink from my grasp. “And the cage?” I ask.
“We hold events,” he says, discomfort showing again. “Fights.”
“Illegal fights.” I state it as the fact I know it is. Theo Kane, my boyfriend, the man who has hijacked my heart, owns an illegal fight club, and on top of that, a damn strip club. What are the chances?
Theo nods his confirmation, bringing his glass to his lips. I have questions, so many questions.
“Are you wanted by the police?” It just falls out of my mouth, and it shocks me as much as it shocks Theo, his glass stopping midtilt. I look away, embarrassed, though it doesn’t escape my notice that he hasn’t rushed to reassure me.
“No, I am not wanted by the police.”
I peek at him, feeling small and awkward. “Have you ever been locked up?”
“No.”
I’m surprised. A man like Theo, his temper, his…business. “Okay, th—”
“I’ve done some terrible things, Izzy,” he interrupts me, holding his breath once he’s uttered his confession. I stare at him, waiting for more. It’s only when he blinks and looks down that I realize I won’t get it. God forgives everyone. “Just let me be Theo to you.” He gazes up at me. “Can you do that?”
Can I? This place is like a vortex of triggers. A deep instinct is telling me to run, yet there’s a new instinct, one I’m in more control of, telling me to stay. I look up at the stage. Penny is back. Still smiling. Still looking full of life and energy. I didn’t smile. Never. “You know I don’t like violence. And strip clubs aren’t really my thing.” I shrug, blasé. I’m not telling Theo anything he doesn’t already know. He just doesn’t know the sordid details. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, looking worried as I go on. “But apparently you are my thing.” The smile that crosses his lips, revealing his dimple to the fullest, is my favorite Theo smile. “You appeared out of nowhere in an alley on a dark night and stopped me being attacked. You followed me to Vegas and wooed me.” I raise a warning eyebrow when his mouth opens to challenge me. Business. Give me a break. Theo closes his mouth and nods for me to continue. “You had Callum stay and watch me so I made it home to you safely. You pulled a gun on someone who got a little too physical with me.” I try to appear unfazed, following up each negative with a positive. I’d already figured out that Theo danced on the wrong side of the law, I just didn’t know how exactly. Now I do, and despite my hatred of violence and my equal abhorrence for strip clubs, I can’t say it’s changed the way I feel about Theo. Because with me, he is gentle. With me, he’s warm. And though it’s a little backward, I like how he makes me feel. In bed. Out of bed. It’s almost as if I’ve relaxed since I’ve met him. My muscles don’t feel constantly strung. My mind isn’t overanxious. It’s as if a huge burden has been lifted from my shoulders. Oddly, I love Theo’s instinctual desire to keep me safe. And I think I love my newfound instinct to let him. “To me, you are simply Theo.”
He puffs out an astonished breath. “You surprise me at every turn.”
“I’ve surprised myself,” I tell him. “There’s another thing that has really stunned me, too,” I continue, feeling my glass nervously.
“Good. I was beginning to think you were inhuman,” Theo quips sarcastically. “Go on.”
“Your mother. You’ve told her about me.”
He rolls his eyes a little. It’s the sweetest sign of exasperation. “She took a call from the florist to confirm the delivery of the flowers I sent you.”
I grin. “And you’re not the wine-and-dine type?”
Theo grins back, trying to raise warning eyebrows at me. “Seems for you I am.” Big fat grins remain on our faces as our eyes stay glued across the table for an age, both of us finishing our drinks before one of us finally speaks. It’s Theo. “How was she, anyway? My mother.”
“Lovely,” I say honestly, stifling a yawn.
“She’s a good woman.” Theo stands and collects me from the chair, pulling me into his side again. “Let me take you back.”
“Will you stay with me?” I ask,
feeling eyes follow us all the way to the door.
“Try to stop me.” He looks back to one of the barmen. “This door should be locked.” The fear on the poor guy’s face is potent. “Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“So scary,” I mutter as Theo guides me through, grinning up at him when he peeks down at me.
“The code on the lock is one five zero five, if ever you need it.”
“Fifteenth of May,” I muse, returning my attention forward. “Your birthday?” He nods and leads me down the corridor, through the office, and up the passage that leads back to his house.
“I assume people don’t come through your house to get into the club,” I say as we take the stairs.
“There’s a separate entrance to the grounds and club on the other side of the property.”
“And the police?” I ask, wondering how an illegal establishment of this size and obvious popularity stays off the radar.
“What about them?”
“Well, the illegal fights. Wouldn’t they try to close you down if they knew?”
“Probably,” Theo says flippantly, like it’s of no consequence, shutting the bedroom door behind us.
“You’re not worried about that?”
He pulls my T-shirt up over my head and then removes my jeans. “No.”
“Why?”
“I have too much dirt on too many coppers,” he says, pointing to the bed. “And Mother’s married to one.”
“No shit,” I blurt.
“Yes shit.” He laughs, removing his shirt.
I momentarily forget what has me so stunned, the sight of his chest sending me cross-eyed. I shake myself out of my little moment. “Your parents are divorced?”
“My father died.”
I quietly note the pain that flashes across his face. “I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t acknowledge my offer of sympathy, instead nodding to the bed again. “Get in.”
I follow his order obediently, slipping beneath the sheets as Theo strips down and throws his clothes on the nearby chair with mine. I get the feeling the conversation ends there, so I don’t push him. I wouldn’t want to talk too much about my mother, either. Sliding in beside me, he reaches for the lamp and flips the switch, and the room plummets into darkness. I wait for Theo to find me before I make a move, and when he does, I go happily into his arms, resting my head on his chest and closing my eyes, hearing his heart beat steady and strong.
“What do you mean, dirt on them?” I ask, my curiosity raging.
“What strip club did you work at?”
I still, scowling to myself. So this is how it’s going to be? I ask him a question he doesn’t want to answer, and he asks one that he knows I won’t want to answer? Crafty. Clever. But isn’t this terribly toxic? The secrets? You’d think, yet I find them comforting. Because we’re both at peace simply being Izzy and Theo to each other, even if we know there’s more to the story. But I want to forget. And so does Theo.
I turn my lips onto his skin and kiss his chest, ignoring the small part of my mind that’s telling me my theory is stupid and naive. “Good night,” I whisper, feeling his hand in my hair, rubbing soothing circles.
“Good night, sweetheart.”
Chapter 16
Jess is slurping coffee in her dressing gown when I walk into the kitchen of our apartment early the next morning, her face a picture of curiosity. I skirt past her to get myself some caffeine. “Good night?” she asks casually, joining me by the kettle and resting her hip on the counter.
“Lovely, thank you.” I choose to focus on the amazing latter parts of the night, rather than the shaky start outside the hospital when Theo had Percy’s son in a choke hold, and then when I discovered what the Playground actually is. I pour and stir, keeping my eyes on the swirl of my coffee.
“You’re glowing,” she says, and I look at her out of the corner of my eye. She’s failing to conceal her smirk. “How hard have you fallen?”
“Harder than I should.” I take my mug and mirror her position—hip resting on the counter, my hands wrapped around my coffee.
“Why?”
I shrug, trying to be blasé. “I just get the feeling…” I let my words fade, thinking for a few moments. “I don’t know. Like maybe I’m setting myself up to be hurt.”
A mild smile breaks out over the rim of her mug. “Izzy, when you give your heart to someone, you’re trusting them not to break it. You can’t hold yourself back forever.”
I nod lightly, knowing she’s right. I can’t let my past tarnish my future. But is this future too similar to my past? I shake my head to myself. Theo is nothing like him. God, why did I have to let my walls down to a man like Theo? Why not a normal, straitlaced, law-abiding guy with a regular job? They’re silly questions, really; I don’t even know why I’m bothering to ask myself them. I know exactly why. For a start, there’s that feeling of being safe whenever he’s near. That comfort is like a highly addictive drug, after being afraid for so long. But more than that, I feel like he’s giving me parts of himself that no other is privileged to have. Even his mother. He’s soft, gentle, kind, caring. He’s a pile of contradictions, fascinatingly so. “I don’t think he has any intention of breaking my heart.” I just worry that he’ll do it without intention.
“Do you trust him?”
“Implicitly.” I don’t hesitate. “He won’t hurt me. I just fear the damage he can do to himself.” Jess frowns, so I go on. “How he lives, what he does, the way he handles things. No one can live by the sword and never get cut.” And if Theo gets cut, so do I. His pain will be mine.
She frowns. “Live by the sword?”
“His temper, his phobia.” I bite the bullet. Besides, I can’t expect my friend to understand my muddle if she doesn’t have all the information. “His strip club.”
She nearly spits out her coffee, her mug hitting the counter hard. “What?”
I nod as I slurp my coffee, appearing as cool as I weirdly feel. “The Playground. It’s a strip club. But not the kind that—”
Jess holds up her hand, stopping me from going on. “You don’t need to go there, Izzy.”
I’m grateful, but I’m keen to relay all the justifications I walked myself through last night. “He’s good to the people who work there. They’re happy.” I shrug. “And Theo is still Theo.” It’s really that simple. “He treats me like a goddess.” Makes me feel like one, too. I push away from the counter and head for the bathroom, hearing Jess in pursuit of me. “The Playground is also an illegal fight club,” I tell her over my shoulder, rather blasé.
She gasps, nearly tripping over her own feet in shock. “You’re joking, aren’t you?”
“Nope.” I place my coffee on the sink and strip down, jumping in the shower while Jess gets comfy on the toilet seat.
“And you found all this out last night?”
“Yes.”
Her cheeks puff out, her face a picture of shock. “Bloody hell, if only Theo knew about—”
“He does know.”
Her round eyes widen further. I really can’t blame her, though I’m certain I dealt with all this a lot more rationally than Jess is doing. “He knows…?” She wants clarification, because there is much Theo could know about.
“He knows I used to be a stripper.”
“You didn’t used to be a stripper, Izzy. You used to be little more than a fucking slave.” I flinch, and so does Jess. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re right.” I force a smile as the shower screen clouds before me, and I lose sight of her. “Though Theo doesn’t know the gory details, okay? He doesn’t need to.”
“God, yes, of course.”
“Thank you.” I grab the shampoo, and as I wash my hair and body, I wait for more questions to come. But after a few minutes, I hear the bathroom door close. And I know she’s worried.
* * *
“Izzy, a word in my office when you’re done, please,” Susan calls as I’m helping Mable get comfy
. I look over my shoulder, seeing her collecting some medical files off the desk. It’s near the end of my shift, and I’ve been on edge all day, worrying whether anything will come of the incident involving Percy’s son last night.
“Two minutes,” I say, my mind racing with apprehension.
“Sounds serious,” Mable chimes in to my thoughts, patting the bedsheets around her lap.
I hum my agreement and pour her a drink of water, handing Mable some painkillers with the cup. “Still a five?” I ask.
“Four.” She tips the small cup to her lips and swallows. “Tell me how that strapping man of yours is.”
I return her wicked grin as I make a few notes on her charts. “Strapping.”
“Off the shelf?”
“Maybe.”
“Look at you being all coy.” She chuckles, reaching for my arm and giving me a little poke. “But there’s no hiding the spring in your step.”
“I’m springing?”
“Oh yes. And glowing.” She winks, looking highly pleased with herself. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.” I give her hand a quick rub as Susan passes again and nods toward her office. I don’t like her serious expression at all. “I’d better go.”
“Okay, dear. I’m going to have a nap before The Great British Bake Off starts. Pass me the remote control, will you, my love?”
“Of course.” I leave Mable after making sure she has everything she needs and make my way to Susan’s office, unable to bat down my growing apprehension. “Everything okay?” I ask, finding her sitting at her desk.
“Izzy, please close the door and take a seat.” Susan points to a chair, and my trepidation increases as I shut the door, knowing this must be serious. Susan’s door is never closed unless it’s serious.
“What’s going on?” I ask as I lower into the chair.
She holds up something. “I was going to ask you that question.”
I frown, eyeing the paper in her hand. “What’s that?”
“A letter of complaint.”
I shoot a look at her as she unfolds the sheet and scans the letter, pointing to the bottom. “From Percy Sugden’s son. He turned up at Casualty late last night with extensive injuries. Broken jaw, broken arm, broken nose, to name just a few.”
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