Four Seconds to Lose (Ten Tiny Breaths, #3)(47)

But he must have—that or he read my lips, where his focus is locked right now—because he steps in closer, until our chests are almost touching but aren’t. I hold the air in my lungs as he leans in toward my ear, his warm breath skating along my neck. “Yes, I do. Too much.”

I watch his retreating back as he turns around, unable to breathe for several long seconds as the butterflies thrash about in my stomach.

And I wonder if maybe there is also another side—a darker, less controlled, not so good side—to Cain, after all.





chapter seventeen


■ ■ ■

CAIN

“I thought you said you were staying away from her.”

I look up from my desk to see Nate’s dark form looming over me, his arms crossed over his chest.

Of all the ways I should have answered her question . . .

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Charlie.”

“It’s inappropriate.”

“Maybe you should interact more with the customers so you can make more money.”

But, no. I just kicked the door wide open and invited a mountain of trouble in because Charlie Rourke has swung a wrecking ball into my willpower.

Picking up a pen and tossing it, I groan. “She’s driving me f*cking crazy! And yes!” I throw my hands up in the air. “I’m well aware that I keep going out there to let her do it.”

“Cain, you are a damn stubborn fool.” In front of others, Nate bites his tongue. But the club is closed and empty, and he won’t hold back now. It’s both annoying and refreshing.

With a snort, I mutter, “Tell me something I don’t know.”

He shifts his body off the desk so that he’s looming over me again. “I think you need to get out of this business.”

“Yeah . . .” My focus shifts to the stack of supply order forms on my desk, quickly dismissing him. I’ve heard it before. “Maybe I could get her off the stage and doing management. I’ll pay her well. It’ll be less distracting for me.”

There’s a pause, and then Nate’s hand finds its way to the bridge of his nose to squeeze it, as if he has a sudden headache coming on. “Management, Cain? Those dancers will eat her alive.”

I shrug. “She’s quiet, but she’s not shy.” She sure as hell wasn’t tonight. He’s right, though. You need to have Ginger’s personality—loud, pushy, borderline insensitive—to not get walked all over around here. “Maybe I can get China to back her up. People defer to her,” I toss out without thinking.

Nate barks with laughter. “China’s going to help the woman you’re nailing?”

“I’m not—”

“Doesn’t matter. Everyone in this place thinks you are.”

I sigh. “Maybe taking Charlie off the stage will kill all that.”

“That won’t stop the rumors! It’ll only add fuel to the fire.” He shakes his head at me.

“Whatever.” I wave a dismissive hand. “I don’t give a f*ck about gossip anymore. It’s been going on for years.” Only this gossip might become fact, the way things are going.

Nate makes his way toward the door. I don’t blame him for wanting to head home; it’s almost four a.m. But he suddenly stops. “Man, I’ve been through hell and back with you, Cain. I owe you everything. But I’m tired of watching you chase ghosts and punish yourself for shit you can’t change—shit that happened years ago and wasn’t your fault.

“Do you remember the night we opened this place? You sat in that chair, pissed out of your skull, watching an old surveillance video of Penny onstage, promising that if you ever met another girl like her, you’d do things differently. You wouldn’t sit back and make excuses. Hell, you said you’d walk away from this business in a heartbeat if you could just have another chance.”

I think back to that night. I remember wanting to shoot myself in the head the next morning after downing half a bottle of cognac. Then I remember seeing the frozen screen shot of Penny’s face on the monitor and wanting to down the other half of the bottle. But I sure as hell don’t remember saying any of that.

Nate doesn’t wait for my denial. “And here you are, doing the exact same thing with Charlie.”

“This is nothing like—”

“It’s the exact same thing!” Nate rarely raises his voice but, when he does, it reminds me that he’s not the scrawny little kid I knew back in South Central. “You knew you wanted Penny and you waited, giving excuse after excuse as to why you weren’t good enough, why she deserved better, why you’d be taking advantage of her. Playing a f*cking martyr. And then you finally made a move, when she was on her way to the altar!” His voice suddenly quiets because he knows his words have already pummeled me and his next ones will kick me while I’m down. “And it was too late.”

The air hangs silent and heavy in the room. Nate has hit old wounds that closed over but never truly healed. I should have swept Penny off her feet the second she walked through my door. But I did what I thought was the “right thing” by staying back. I figured I’d wait. Wait until she got out of this business, until she was no longer working for me, and then maybe I’d tell her how I felt.