Page 116 of Heart Over Heels

“You know,” he said after a pause. “I never thanked you for helping me out a few weeks ago.”

It took me a second to track his meaning back to one of my first shifts at the club. The night he’d nearly been pulled off the pole and into a rowdy crowd, dragged dangerously close to an undertow of bodies.

“Oh.” I swallowed. “I was just doing my job.”

He nodded and crossed his arms again. “You were decent at it. Better than Mazzy’s bruisers. If that had happened under their watch, it would’ve just… happened.”

I recalled the panic on his face as the audience morphed into a mob. He wasn’t a big guy. Well under six foot and slight, he was built more for show than substance and would have been easily overpowered. For a selfish, foolish moment I realized I could overpower him now. I could muscle past and get inside without his approval, or permission, or whatever I was trying to earn here.

But what he’d said caused my mind to backtrack.

“You don’t think they would have stopped it?” I asked. “You could’ve been hurt.”

Dark brows dropped over his almond-shaped eyes. “They were here to keep us contained, not safe.”

The line drawn between containment and safety made fury surge in me. It was bars on the windows and guards at the doors. A house of pleasure turned into a prison, a second Hell.

I knew one thing: if I could stand between the dolls and that kind of treatment, that was where I wanted to be. Since my injury, I’d been adrift, but this was somewhere I could belong. I envied their camaraderie and companionship and wanteddesperately to be counted among them. To be embraced by Darby again, if not as his lover, then maybe as his guard.

I was a soldier. A Marine, even if most days I didn’t feel like one. I knew how to fight; maybe all I’d been lacking was a worthy cause.

While I considered, Elliot tapped his toe against the concrete, clearly doing some thinking of his own.

“You said the angels are planning something,” he said at last. “Antonella told you?”

“Yes.” My throat tightened. “She said something’s coming. Not for me, but I think it might be for all of you.”

His head dipped slowly. “You should probably go to Beck with that.”

“I will,” I agreed. “But Darby’s first. I…”

Another flippant wave stopped me. “Yeah, yeah, you like him. Think he’s pretty. I heard.” He shrugged. “But if you want to win him over, you need to level that shit up.”

I nodded, resolute. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

Moths fluttered around the fixture overhead, their wingbeats drowned by the thrum of the club’s music.

Finally, Elliot sighed and pushed off the wall. He went to the door and grabbed the outer handle before kicking loose the chunk of concrete wedged in the jamb. With a shove, the door swung wide, letting out a wave of unfiltered sound.

“Fine.” Elliot’s voice raised to compensate for the increase in volume. “Get in there and ‘maintenance’ some shit. But if you fuck up again, I’ll sic Ozzy on you.”

Unlike Elliot, Oz was massive and practically made of muscle. I had no doubt he could bench press me or knock a few teeth loose given the proper motivation. Odd as it was to envision the gentle giant resorting to violence, I didn’t want to take any chances.

“Point taken,” I said.

Still holding the door, Elliot beckoned me in. “Go ahead, then.”

The door yawned wider, spilling out cool air, thumping bass, and a dull roar of voices. If this had been a test, I’d passed, but the real trial waited beyond that threshold.

After I crossed it, I would have to find Darby in the crowd. Convince him not to have me thrown out. Convince him to listen. Maybe even convince him to trust me again.

Swallowing, I steeled my resolve, and then I entered the club.

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

Mercer