The Scars That Define Us (The Devil's Dust #2)(12)

“Hey, Shadow,” one of the strippers says, walking my way.

“Hey, Jasmine,” I say casually. Jasmine has dark hair, green eyes and is wearing a black, sheer robe over her naked body. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination, as I can see everything. I notice Bobby sit in the chair next to me. I look over and give him a nod as he stares Jasmine down.

“Haven’t seen you here for a while,” Jasmine says, sitting on my lap uninvited. I look at her face as she turns and smiles at me, her green eyes catching me by the balls. I came here hoping to escape Dani, and I still manage to fall face-first into her.

“Hey, babe, why don’t you get us our usual,” Bobby suggests to Jasmine.

Jasmine gets up from my lap instantly. “You got it, babe,” she throws over her shoulder as her eyes flirt with Bobby. Her green eyes make me see Dani rather than this slutty stripper. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to shake away anything Dani out of my head.

“You asked me to come here, Bobby, so what’s up?” I ask, eyeing the girls on stage dancing for a quick buck. A blonde, busty girl winks at me as she grips the chrome pole and swings her legs around it, making her whole body circle it.

“Just worried about you, man; thought you could use getting out,” he says with sincerity. I don’t need his empathy.

“Worry about your own shit, I’m fine,” I say, my tone cold and angry.

“Whatever you say, brother,” Bobby chuckles. He knows I’m anything but fine; sometimes I hate how well we know each other.

“How is Dani doing?” I ask.

“She’s all right. She’s trying to get a job right now,” Bobby says, adjusting his pants as the blonde grinds the pole center stage.

“Can’t find one?” I ask, looking in his direction. I find it hard to believe we can’t get her a job. We have connections everywhere.

“Nah, not any she wants,” Bobby answers. “I think she’s looking for a job she can settle down and make a career with, I’m not -”

“She wants to dance,” I say, interrupting Bobby. He eyes me awkwardly. “Like ballet. She told me she loves to dance ballet. She was going to help teach little kids or some shit in New York before her mother stepped in.” I look over and see Jasmine hand Bobby his drink before handing me mine.

“So, Shadow, you going to take me in the back and show me a good time?” Jasmine asks, eyeing me with those green eyes. Looking into those pools of green, all I can think of, all I can see, is Dani. How much I miss her. How I want to smell her scent of peaches and feel her wrapped around my cock.

“Yeah. Let’s go,” I say, standing up. She links her skinny little fingers through mine and pulls me toward the back into a private room.


Dani

The sun is out and burning bright as we ride into town. Bobby woke me up after sleeping until noon, telling me he had a job lined up for me somewhere. I’m nervous; who knows what kind of job Bobby found. I can’t help but notice the unease I feel riding on the back of his bike. I hate feeling like I’m breaking a club law when I don’t even belong to Shadow anymore. The motorcycle roars forward, snapping me from my thoughts as we turn into a parking lot full of businesses. I climb off the bike and hand Bobby my helmet.

“There it is,” Bobby says, pointing through the lot. I look in that direction and notice a two-story building. It has a large, glass front and the foundation is made of clay-colored bricks. I look at the sign and almost lose my lunch.

‘Of The Ballet’

It’s a ballet studio.

“Shadow mentioned something about you liking ballet, so some strings were pulled to get you the job,” he says, putting his helmet on the bike.

“Who pulled some strings?” I ask as I stare at the building in awe.

“Come on, you’re going to be late,” he states, tugging on my arm and ignoring my question.

I walk in the door and a bunch of little girls in leotards, smiling and giggling, run out with their parents. I notice mirrors plastering the walls, with ballet barres along them. The ceiling is high with windows along the top, filtering in a generous amount of sunlight. On the right of us sits a curved desk with a pair of ballet slippers hanging in a display case on the wall amongst medals and awards.

“Ah, you must be Dani?” a voice from behind a desk asks.

“Yes,” I say, smiling, standing on my tiptoes to see over the desk.

A woman stands from behind the desk and walks toward me. She is tall and thin with a pale complexion. Her blonde hair is pulled into a tight bun, and she has honey-colored eyes.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Mila.” She darts her thin hand out to shake.

“Hi,” I say, shaking her hand back.

“You’re here about a job, right?” she asks.

“Yes,” I respond with a kind smile. She leans to the side and eyes Bobby standing behind me before looking back at me.

“Do you have any experience?” she asks.

“I have practiced ballet since I was a little girl,” I inform.

“Right. Show me,” she says, crossing her arms, no humor to be found in her tone.

I look over my shoulder and see Bobby standing there watching me, so I look back at Mila and take a deep breath.

I stand in the fifth position, the sides of my feet touching, and my toes pointing to the opposite foot’s heel. Balancing on my left leg, I slowly lift my right foot off the floor at a forty-degree angle. I turn out my right hip and straighten my right kneecap. Then, I lift myself to stand on my toes, my left foot into an en pointe—as much as I can without the proper shoes—while I point my toes on my right foot. I lift one arm up while bowing the other out from my body. I smile because even after not practicing for as long as I have, my body immediately remembers. I let my frame ease as my foot screams from my en pointe, and my calves burn from not being used in a while.