Better When He's Bad (Welcome to the Point #1)(11)
“I am.” I was doing my count-out well before my shift was over and had handed off my last two tables to a new girl. I hated giving up money, but finding Race was what mattered to me most of all, and I could go without hot water for a month if that’s what it took to find him.
“Homework?” She was just being friendly, but I didn’t have the time to get into it. I had no idea when Bax would show up at the club, which meant I needed to get there before he saw and intercepted me.
“No, not tonight.”
My other job was working a few hours a week at a transition home for kids who had grown up like I had. While there were a lot of really good foster homes and people wanting to help out in the world, there were also a lot of really bad ones. I wanted to help. Wanted to give kids the option to have a normal life, like Race had done for me. I went to school at night because I eventually wanted a degree in counseling. I wanted kids in my shoes to have a fighting chance.
“Well, I know you don’t have a date because hell hasn’t frozen over, so where are you off to?”
I looked up at her and rolled my eyes. She was such a pretty girl, I always wondered why she was here and not in some sorority on a campus somewhere. She had a perfectly styled bob that was just the right shade of blond and lighter blond. She had kind blue eyes and a figure that was made for the tight black skirt and T-shirt she wore to work. She was lovely, and genuinely concerned about me but I couldn’t get into it with her. I didn’t need someone else telling me to be careful and to watch my back because Bax was trouble. Message received, universe, the guy was bad news; too bad there was nothing I could do about it. Instead of answering, I cocked my head to the side and lifted an eyebrow at her.
“Do you think I look like a farm girl?”
She stared at me like I had grown horns, and then barked out a laugh. “What? Who told you that?”
I shoved the money and receipts in the bag for the drop and pocketed my tips. “Just this guy. I thought it was crazy.”
She tilted her head to the side and considered me thoughtfully for a second, then tucked some of her blond hair behind an ear.
“Well, you do have this whole wholesome-and-wide-eyed-innocent thing going on, but I know you, so I know it isn’t really who you are. It was probably the clothes ten sizes too big and lack of makeup. Plus all that wild hair you never do anything with makes you look about five years old most of the time.”
Fancy clothes, nice hair, and a made-up face got you unwanted attention in this part of the city. Plus my hair was already a beacon, and I didn’t need anything else to make me stand out.
“That’s what he said.”
“Who is this guy?”
I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could manage. “Just a friend of my brother’s. He stopped by looking for Race and I had to tell him I hadn’t seen him in a while.”
She made a face. For some reason Brysen was not a fan of my brother. They had similar backgrounds and were both slumming it now for personal reasons, but they didn’t click. She was rude to him, and he dismissed her, and it was awkward for me because I genuinely liked her, and I didn’t like very many people as a rule.
“Did he have any idea where Race might be?”
I shook my head and shoved away from the table. “No, but I’m not sure he would tell me if he did. He didn’t strike me as the sharing type.”
“Sounds like the rude type if he called you a farm girl without knowing the first thing about you.”
“You have no idea . . . Look, I’ll talk to you later, okay? I have to go.” I didn’t wait to see what her response was before bolting out the door.
I didn’t have—had never had—a car and when Race disappeared he had taken his car with him. It was just one more reason I was worried about what happened to him because it was a really nice car and the likelihood of someone trying to steal it was as high as the junkie on the corner. I twisted my riotous hair into a ponytail and pulled a slouchy gray hat over the mass. If anyone was going to recognize me, it would be from the hair, and not the nondescript jeans, baggy black sweater, and worn-out Converses I had on. I looked just like every other street kid wandering around, and Bax had seemed entirely unimpressed with my minimal assets as it was, so it wasn’t like he would be looking for me anyway.
Bar after bar. Strip club after strip club. Men and women making a living in a way that had been around since the dawn of time colored every block, every bend in the District. Trying to find a place called Spanky’s when every other joint was named something similar with the same thinly veiled innuendo was a lot harder than I thought it would be. When I finally did locate it, I was loath to go in.
It was neon. It was pink. It screamed debauchery and dirty things. Just standing on the sidewalk made my skin crawl. My life wasn’t pretty and rosy, but I had never been low enough to think that getting naked and selling myself was a way out. I gave myself a mental pep talk and forced myself to open the door. I couldn’t stop from rubbing my hand on the thigh of my jeans after I was inside. It was just as pink and gaudy on the interior. My eyes darted around, trying to figure out the best place to hide out and be unobtrusive, when a hand clamped down on my arm and whipped me around.
“You old enough to be in here, girly?” The behemoth African-American man gave me a little shake. His bald head gleamed under the neon-pink lights and I felt my heart lodge in my throat. Aside from the diamond in his front tooth and the snarl on his face, there was no missing the gun he had snuggled to his side in a leather holster. I was used to violence and the unsavory things that happened in this part of town, but guys with guns was new, and I wasn’t sure how to proceed without making a fool of myself or blowing my shot at checking up on Bax.