Page 38 of Ruthless Protector

He said I was here to waitress. I could do that, I could switch off, pretend I was somewhere else…with someone else. I’d been doing that every night at Stilettos. I could pretend.

“I’ve brought the entertainment,” Trent said to the goons.

One of the suited men spoke into his Bluetooth headset, then opened the door. Trent shoved me in first, and I stumbled before I caught myself. I quickly scanned the room. There were six men sitting around a table, playing poker. It was dark, smoky, and I could only see half of them; the rest were sitting in shadow. I recognized one of the men instantly. Tomas Mendoza. And by the way his eyes sharpened on me, I knew he’d recognized me too.

Would he tell Steph he saw me here? Raul? If they found out I was here against my will, I knew all sorts of hell would rain down. Raul was protective of his girls, like a father figure. He knew Jude…if he found out…

“I told you I’d come through,” Trent said to one of the men, chest puffing up. “She dances at Stilettos.”

The other man’s gaze slid to me, moving over my face, my body, slowly, so damn slowly, and it took everything in me not to cover myself with my hands. The guy was creepy as hell.

“What do you think, Donny?” Mr. Creepy asked, glancing at the man beside him.

Donny had pasty skin and flesh-colored lips, and his eyes were so pale he seemed colorless, as if he could blend into a beige wall like a chameleon. Donny nodded.

The other guy did the same to Trent. I had their approval.

Tomas was still watching me, as was the man beside him. He was good looking; dark hair and eyes, skin a deep olive, his gaze steady, curious. His suit jacket was over the back of his chair and he had the sleeves of his dark shirt rolled up his forearms. I’d never seen him before, but the way he was looking at me, made me think he recognized me. Maybe he’d seen me dance.

That was more than a little disconcerting.

“What’s your name?” Mr. Creepy asked.

I stood tall, trying not to look as terrified as I felt. “Magenta,” I said, using the ridiculous stage name Raul gave me.

The guy looked at Trent then back at me. “He paying you to be here, Magenta?”

Trent had his hand on my back and his fingers bit into my skin in warning. I had no idea what I was supposed to say, so took a wild stab and hoped for the best. “Yes.”

The guy nodded, then his eyes shifted back to Trent. “Amazing. You got something right.”

Trent took a step toward him. “Can we discuss…”

“No,” Mr. Creepy said. “We’ll talk when I say so. Now get the fuck gone.”

Trent look flustered, but also relieved, and barely spared me a glance as he scurried out like the vermin he was.

“Don’t just stand there, pinky,” the creep said, making me jump. “My glass is empty.”

There was a bottle of whiskey sitting on the table, so I walked over and carefully poured him a measure. The asshole’s hand slid over my hip as I did this, and it was hard but I managed to keep the revulsion from my face, forcing a smile as I moved out of reach and worked my way around the table.

I needed to get out of here. The sooner the better. Would they buy an excuse? Maybe I could pretend to be sick? Would the goons at the door follow me if I said I needed a bathroom break? I had to try. Ten minutes. I’d wait ten minutes, then I’d tell them I needed the ladies’ room.

I did my best not to make eye contact, God, even look at the men in the room. I’d topped up Mr. Dark and Handsome’s drink. He didn’t touch me, and I appreciated it. I moved to the next, then the next, one of the guys who had been shrouded in shadow. The bottle clinked against his glass as I poured.

“Thanks,” he said, low and rough.

I jolted when I recognized the deep grittiness in that voice, at the instant awareness that sent shivers through me. My gaze shot to his face, and I froze solid.

Jude.

His brown gaze bore into me, intense, alert. He was dressed like Mr. Dark and Handsome beside him. Suit pants and a dark shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his jacket draped over the back of his seat.

“You playing, Jack, or are you gonna eye fuck the help all night?” the creep said, unfreezing me.

Jude gripped my hip possessively and smirked at the other men in the room. “You’ve got enough of my money,” Jude said, which I guess meant he was Jack. “I’m out.”

9