by Tonya Brooks
The only place she could have gone was through a steel door bearing a barely legible Employees Only sign. Was this where she worked? The door was locked so he stalked back through the debris strewn alley to the street, saw the sign on the front of the building and his fucking head almost exploded.
It was a goddamn strip club!
If he went inside he'd lose his shit. Reece knew he would. No way in hell did he want to know what Jolie did in there. Being a waitress would be bad enough, but if she was a dancer... a snarl ripped from his chest before he snatched the door open and entered the seedy club with fire in his eyes.
Jolie
“Good job, kid,” the House Mom, who insisted everyone call her Mom, said in approval as she offered the new girl a hand towel when she entered the crowded dressing room.
“Thanks, Mom,” the dancer replied and accepted the towel to blot the sweat from her face. On the far side of the room, a blonde woman sat at a dressing table as if frozen in place, looking at her heavily made-up face in the mirror. She didn't move, didn't blink, just sat there staring into her own eyes. “Isn't that Scorn?”
“Yeah,” Mom informed her. “Stay away from her before she performs.”
“What's she doing?”
The older woman shrugged as if it didn't matter. “Psyching herself up. Getting in the zone. Who the hell knows,” she admitted. “Whatever she does, it works. When she hits the floor the men go bonkers.”
“What's so special about her?”
Mom laughed at that. “Just wait until you see her dance. That girl is wicked talented.”
***
Jolie Lassiter wasn't even aware of the women around her. The earbuds prevented her from being distracted as the sound of I Fucking Hate You blasted in her head. The songs on her work playlist were full of pain and rage, something she routinely used to feed the fury inside her soul and help her get through what was to come.
The object of her wrath was her ex-husband.
She despised Reece for what he had forced her to become. What she had to do to survive. Thoughts of him kept her emotions too raw, too near the surface, ready to explode and destroy everything in her path. But she knew how to channel them into something useful, much as it sickened her to do so.
She stared into eyes of the clearest blue and dredged up every ounce of pain and humiliation that she had borne. Jolie gave herself over to the disturbing onslaught and reveled in a bottomless pit of grief and despair, welcomed the biting lash of pain and anguish, and willingly wallowed in a cesspool of sorrow and shame.
As the emotional turmoil threatened to tear her apart, she watched her eyes harden until they resembled the rare blue diamond engagement ring that she had once worn so proudly. The woman staring back at her had become a beautiful doll, empty, lifeless, a broken shell that nothing and no one could touch.
Not even the man who had destroyed her. Safely wrapped in a cocoon of loathing, hatred and rage rolled off of her like waves in a storm-tossed sea. When Mom tapped her shoulder, she removed the buds from her ears, rose, and walked toward the stage like an automaton. It was time to sell her soul to the devil again.
Reece
Reece was walking a fine line between fury and frustration, his legendary self-control precariously balanced on a razor edge. He'd spent an hour cooling his heels at a table in the back of the dark, smoke-filled club and his patience was barely hanging on by a thread. The pulsating rock beat had given him a headache and the cheap scotch made his gut burn.
Then again, they could have been caused by the rage simmering inside. It hadn't taken him long to figure out that Jolie wasn't waiting tables since shift change didn't happen for three more hours. The waitress had thought he was hitting on her when he'd asked what time her shift ended, and now she wouldn't keep her damn hands off of him.
Like this situation wasn't already fucked beyond redemption to begin with. So there he sat, waiting on tenterhooks for the inevitable to happen and knowing there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do to stop it. His wife was going to walk onto that stage and expose her perfect body to a horde of horny men for money.
Fucking hell!
The thought of it damn near eviscerated him. Seeing it happen would probably kill him. Even though he knew this was one of the worst ideas he'd ever had, Reece could not make himself leave. He had to see it. He deserved to suffer a thousand deaths for what he had done to Jolie, and this would torture him beyond endurance.
The rumble of thunder poured through the sound system, the room went completely dark as flashes of jagged purple and white lightning strikes lit up the screen behind the main stage. Every hair on Reece's body stood on end, every primal cell went on alert. The thunder quieted to a muted roar as a clock began to toll.
Dong… dong… dong… “The midnight hour,” an eerie voice filtered through the sound system. Dong… dong… dong… “When all the demons from hell come out to play.” Dong… dong… dong… “Including the devil's own spawn.” Dong… dong… dong… “Scorn!”
The place erupted into a cacophony of sound. Men were on their feet crowding the stage, cheering, waving fists full of cash. The screen became a wall of dancing orange, red and gold flames as the opening bars to In The End began to play through the speakers. The stage lights came on to illuminate a woman draped from neck to toe in a diaphanous scarlet cloak.
Reece sat frozen in place, unable to move or even draw a breath. It was Jolie. She stood with her back to the room, that glorious riot of blonde curls cascading down her back, those long luscious legs spread apart. Both arms raised slowly, drawing the sheer material up with them, the effect much like a butterfly stretching its wings.
A very erotic, sensual butterfly.
She began to sway, her movements slow and provocative. The sight was mesmerizing, her allure hypnotic, and Reece lost focus of everything except the woman he loved. The tempo increased, and she began to dance, her body still partially hidden by the nearly transparent covering. Jolie unhooked the clasp at her throat and flung the wisp of material to the side.
His heart stopped beating.
His lungs seized.
His cock swelled to epic proportions.
The body that he had spent countless hours worshiping stood before him bare except for a g-string up the crack of her delectable ass. She bent at the waist, grasped her ankles with both hands and his heart kick-started into a frenzied beat. Reece didn't know if he was going to have a heart attack or melt into a puddle of lust.
Jolie stood and turned to face the room, and he breathed a sigh of relief that she was wearing a bikini top and a scarlet mask that provided her with a measure of anonymity. Some functioning part of his brain recognized that her breasts were larger than he remembered and her hips had a bit more curve. If anything she was even more perfect than she had been.
But it was her face that captivated him. The expression was completely alien. She looked cold and untouchable, a remote goddess filled with disdain. It was evident in her movements as well. Her body taunted the men watching her, daring them to want her, and showing them that she despised them for it.
From the song playing to the stage name she had chosen, everything about her was contemptuous and the men loved it. Scorn represented the ultimate challenge and sooner or later one of the bastards watching would try to take her up on it. If they hadn't already. Fury rolled through him again, mingling with the lust and his turquoise eyes began to glitter wildly.
The bikini top went flying and his hands clenched into fists by his sides. Reece wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. When she cupped those gorgeous breasts, he groaned in genuine agony and recalled their weight in his hands. How sweet they had tasted. How her nipples would tighten into hard little buds in his mouth.
Jolie's hand slipped inside the bikini bottom, fingers circling her clit as her head fell back and her lips parted. Reece damn near came on the spot. He remembered that look all too well. He'd seen it countless times. Only then it had been his hand pleasur
ing her. Or his mouth. Fuck! This shit was killing him.
Her back to the room again, she teased the bow loose from one hip and then the other. The scrap of material peeled away from her body and was flung aside. Jolie undulated herself around to face the crowd, and he saw that she was completely bare. Every perfect, flawless fucking inch of his wife was on display.
The fury erupted like a volcano inside of him.
Reece surged to his feet, flipping the table over in the process. Being back in his old stomping grounds had unearthed demons he'd kept deeply buried and his wife's performance had unleashed the beast within. The dark, feral side of himself that he had managed to keep hidden for two decades rushed to the surface… and he let it go.
CHAPTER TWO
Jolie
Jolie walked off the stage, shrugged into her robe, and pulled the mask from her face. Lifting the sweat-dampened hair away from the back of her neck, she pushed through the door to the hall and left the raucous noise behind. Before she made it to the dressing room, the door leading into the club crashed against the wall with a bang.
Turning, she saw that one of the bouncers had been knocked backward against the door, his weight propelling it into the wall before he crumpled onto the floor. Shock rippled through her entire body and froze her in place as she met the grim visage of the last man she ever wanted to see.
Her knees threatened to buckle. The breath stilled in her lungs. Her entire musculature system seized. Her heart might have stopped beating. Time stood still as she stared into the beautiful turquoise eyes that still tormented her dreams. The eyes that stared back at her every time she looked at her son. Eyes that were burning like the fires of hell with raw fury.
“Damn you, Jolie,” he grated furiously, fists clenched at his sides as he stepped over the unconscious bouncer and stalked toward her.
She shook her head in denial. Reece was not there. This wasn’t real. Her mind simply could not accept it. The edges of her vision began to blur, the world tilted on its axis, and she swayed helplessly with it. Jolie knew she was falling before her knees gave way, before blackness totally engulfed her.
The last thing she was aware of was arms wrapping around her like bands of steel. Of being lifted and gently cradled against a chest as hard as granite.
A sense of contentment consumed her.
She was finally home.
Reece
When Jolie turned as white as a sheet and her eyes rolled back in her head, concern for her overrode the unbridled fury raging through him. Reece surged forward and barely managed to catch her before she hit the floor. Hell, he'd known seeing him would be a shock, but he'd never imagined that she would have that kind of reaction.
Cursing himself for seven kinds of a fool, he realized that he should have agreed to let Dane warn her that he was coming. But he'd been afraid that Jolie would refuse to see him, so he'd gone for the element of surprise instead. Unfortunately, that had backfired all the way around, and he had lost all semblance of control over his emotions.
Causing her to faint made him feel even more like a piece of shit than he already had. His arms tightened around her imperceptibly in a purely possessive and protective gesture. The only good thing to come of his surprise visit was being able to hold the woman he loved in his arms, even if she was unconscious.
Despite the pallor beneath the heavily applied cosmetics, Jolie was stunningly beautiful. It shredded him to know that not only was she living in abject poverty, but degrading herself by stripping to support their son. The most unforgivable part was that this was exactly the kind of suffering that he had wanted her to endure.
Reece had thrown her out of their home with nothing but the clothes on her back. He'd had George cut off her access to their joint checking account, canceled all of her credit cards, charge accounts, and club memberships.
Determined to make her pay for betraying him, he'd left her with absolutely nothing. Nothing except the child that she had dared to claim was his. But his cold-blooded actions hadn't been entirely out of revenge. No, Reece had been convinced that once she discovered he'd cut her off completely, that Jolie would run to her lover for assistance.
Just like his mother had always done.
He'd wanted to know the man's name, so he could destroy him. And he would have. But the private investigator that he'd hired to follow her had assured him repeatedly that there was no other man. The only thing he had wanted to know was the one thing that could not be discovered. And now he knew why.
There had never been another man.
Remorse turned to fury at everything that his unfounded fears had forced her to endure. He would do whatever it took to atone for the hell he'd put her and their son through. Whatever they wanted. Whatever they needed, he would gladly provide. Jolie and Bryce would never want for anything again.
God, he loved her so fucking much. Reece couldn't resist placing a tender kiss on her softly parted lips. Jolie sighed and his soul rejoiced when a beautiful smile curved her lips. “Come back to me, Sunshine,” he whispered against her mouth. “I swear I'll show you how much I love you, how much I need you, every day for the rest of our lives.”
Jolie
Jolie was having that damn delicious dream again. The recurring dream where Reece was making love to her. His voice slid over her senses as smooth as silken sheets over naked flesh. It wrapped her in warmth, bathed her in love, and set every nerve ending in her body aflame with a longing so intense that it was a physical ache.
He whispered how much he loved her, how much he needed her, swore he'd never leave her, that he'd be with her forever. It always left her smiling until she realized that it had only been a dream. The realization never failed to leave her aching inside because believing that he loved her had also been a dream.
A dream that had become the worst nightmare imaginable.
A nightmare that she could not wake up from.
Because the cold hard truth was that Reece had never loved her. If he had, he couldn't have walked away and left her completely shattered. He couldn't have turned his back on her and their baby. But he had, and he'd done it in the cruelest way possible. He had shattered her heart, destroyed her dreams, and crushed her spirit.
But he hadn't completely broken her.
Because Jolie had something worth fighting for.
Bryce was her reason for living and the only thing she had to show for a marriage that had been over before it really began. She hated that she still dreamed about Reece. Hated that her foolish heart longed for him, that her body still ached for his touch, even after everything he'd done. And the damn dream wasn't helping her to forget.
Not when she could feel the heat of his muscular body against hers, the gentleness of his touch. God help her, she could even smell his cologne. The faint scent of scotch. And his kiss. Oh, those wonderful kisses that could render her incapable of thought. Much like they were doing now, she thought and then sighed in utter bliss, a smile curving her lips.
His lips covered hers again, and she purred in absolute contentment. Mmm, the dream was even better than she remembered. It was so real she could almost believe that Reece was actually there, holding her, kissing her, loving her... her eyes flew open, and she stared at the face poised above her in abject horror.
Holy hell! Reece was really there! A maelstrom of emotions roared through her at the realization and fury such as she had never known consumed her. Jolie placed her hands against his chest and shoved with all her might as she snarled, “Get the fuck off of me!”
Reece let her feet drop to the floor and as soon as she had her balance she wrenched herself free from his loathsome touch. Jolie had a good idea as to why he was there, but at the moment she was too enraged to give a damn. She rounded on him with eyes full of fire and commanded, “Get the hell out!”
Her ex replied evenly, “I'm not leaving until we talk.”
“Now you want to talk?” She demanded and laughed bitterly. “You’re four years too late.” He managed to
look chagrined at the accusation, but Reece Lassiter didn't have a clue what remorse was, and she knew it.
“Jolie, I know I don't deserve it, but please, do me the courtesy of listening...”
“The same courtesy you showed me when you threw me out?” Jolie demanded as she turned to put even more distance between them before she gave in to the nearly overwhelming urge to swing her clenched fist at his handsome face.
“Sunshine, please let me…”
Sunshine. Hearing him call her that was the last straw. Jolie whirled around and every ounce of loathing that she felt was plainly visible on her face. “Get out or I will scream until the owner calls the cops,” she warned in a tone all the more lethal for its softness. “It's your turn to be hauled away in handcuffs.”
“Let 'em try,” he scoffed before grasping her arm in a gentle hold and propelling her toward the rear exit.
“Reece, stop it! Let go of me, damn you,” she hissed before four years of pent-up rage erupted. She began to fight him with every ounce of strength she possessed, punching and kicking anything she could reach. Jolie was mindless in her fury as she sought to inflict as much pain as she had suffered because of him.
Reece
Not willing to hurt her, Reece had no choice but to release her when she began to fight him. He stood completely still and let her punch and kick, scratch and slap like a wild thing. Jolie screamed and cursed him for every vile thing imaginable, and he took it all because he deserved every fucking bit of her fury and then some.
Suddenly people swarmed them from every direction, but he paid them no heed until a man stepped up behind Jolie and pulled her off of him. Reece saw red. “Don't fucking touch her,” he snarled and forcefully shoved the man away from his wife. Hands grabbed him from behind, and he began to fight them off indiscriminately.