God, she could still remember her relief and gratitude toward Bruno. He hadn’t just seemed like the answer to all her problems, he’d literally saved Crystal and protected Jenna from a situation that might’ve killed them or seen them sold off somewhere far, far away. Just like the other girls who’d disappeared into the club’s bowels, never to be heard of again.
So, Crystal knew firsthand exactly what kind of danger lurked behind the scenes at Confessions. The threat of that fate wasn’t idle. Which was why she absolutely refused to tolerate even the thought of Jenna’s stepping into the club. God, when the girl had threatened to come to Crystal’s work and confront Bruno, Crystal had almost tipped right over the edge into a full-blown panic attack. Because back when Bruno first got violent with her, he wasn’t above reminding her how easily he could change Jenna’s fate. Just one call from Bruno, and Church would have her hauled in.
And that’s also why you helped Shane. Right. She just hoped that didn’t come back to haunt her.
Crystal couldn’t imagine how she’d ever find the words to tell her little sister any of that, though. Jenna would never look at her the same way again.
No. It was far better for Jenna never to know exactly what’d happened—what was still happening. For years, Crystal had gone out of her way to hide her true reality. She never changed in front of Jenna. Always locked the bathroom door when she showered—a source of constant complaint from Jenna given their one-bathroom setup. And she’d gotten Bruno’s permission to sew herself uniform tops similar to the standard Confessions uniforms but that covered up her defects.
Since, you know, men were paying for the fantasy of perfection at the club. And while the whip marks she bore probably were a fantasy for some of the sickos that sat around ogling the girls night after night, Confessions didn’t exactly advertise their support for that kinda thing right out there in the open. No, those dark proclivities could only be provided for in the shadows.
Say, in the club’s basement . . .
Forcing her attention back to her reflection in the dressing-room mirror, Crystal blew out a shaky breath. Wallowing in those memories did absolutely no good. Except maybe as a cautionary tale to help guide her through her screwed-up life. As she stared at herself, Crystal had the fleeting thought that her life was a house of cards, one light blow away from falling to pieces and disintegrating to nothing.
“Enough,” she whispered under her breath. If she didn’t get her head together, she was going to mess something up and get herself in trouble around here tonight. But between the head-spinning deliciousness of kissing Shane and the fight with Jenna—not to mention being compared to their father . . . Crystal felt as fragile as cracked glass.
She gave herself one last look. Hair—curled and sprayed. Makeup—dramatic. Jewelry—costume crap she didn’t care about losing. Uniform—skanky and scanty as always. Slipping her feet into the killer heels, she bent over and assembled the little silver buckles. Back in character for yet another shift.
The club had been open since noon, but it was still quiet when Crystal took the floor at seven. Which just figured. On nights when she might’ve considered giving all her tips to another waitress for ten minutes off her feet, business never let up. On nights when all Crystal wanted was to be so busy she wouldn’t have five minutes to think, time crawled by.
Tonight, the last place she wanted to be was in her head with the memories of all the ways she’d screwed up.
Confessions’s shift manager Darnell Parsons waved her over to the bar. “Prospective bachelor-party clients coming in to take a tour of the private rooms at eight for a party Friday night. You want to host them?” he asked, eyeballing her. With his warm brown skin and light eyes, the man was attractive enough, but he was possibly the most humorless, uptight man she’d ever known. “Well?” he asked, annoyance plain in his tone.
“Yes. I would. Thank you.” The clients could request certain girls to work a party, so making a good impression during one of these visits could result in getting booked for parties where the tips ran way bigger than what you could earn on the main club floor.
Darnell nodded. “Go get the rooms up and running so everything’s ready when they get here,” he said.
“Yes, sir.” Crystal darted toward the curtained doorway to the back hall. The minute she stepped through, she remembered how Shane had pressed her up against the wall right there, trapping her with his strength and his heat and his charm.
God, how could that have only happened a few days ago? If she thought on it, she could recall his scent and the way it had wrapped around her. Or, maybe, despite the long shower she’d taken after they’d gotten caught in the rain this afternoon, a part of him still lingered on her skin even now. Either way, one thing was clear. Shane had invaded her head and unsettled her body.
Crystal huffed an annoyed breath at herself and marched down the dim corridor. Feelings like that were exactly why Crystal needed to keep her distance from the man. He made her lose focus. He made her wish things could be different. And he made her want to throw caution to the wind and, for just once in her life, take what she wanted.
Openly. Wantonly. Unapologetically.
Which would be a freaking disaster. Or worse.
Past the door to the rear parking lot, a hall with black carpeting and red, padded walls stretched out like a long arm, the party rooms located along both sides.
Crystal entered the first room on her left and set about turning on the lights and the sound system. Despite variations in size and décor, the rooms were essentially the same. A small square stage sat in the center with a pole that extended to the ceiling surrounded by groupings of leather couches, chairs, and tables. Mirrors on the ceiling and along one wall. All the rooms had a private bathroom and wet bar in the rear of the space, though clients had to pay extra to have someone tend the party en suite.
She repeated the same setup in the other two rooms, knowing Darnell would want to take a chunk out of her hide if the client arrived before they were ready to begin the tour. Thankfully, Crystal was ready to play hostess with minutes to spare.
Soon after she’d taken up position by the bar, four men walked through the front door, two of whom she recognized. One of the men who’d been in the hallway with Shane the other night. And Shane, plucking a cowboy hat from his head.
He and his friends were approaching the bar not far from where she stood.
Oh, God. What the hell was he doing here?
Feigning nonchalance, she smiled at the men, forced her body to remain relaxed, and glanced away like two of the four of them weren’t on the Church gang’s most wanted list.
“Hey, buddy,” one of them said to Walker, who’d been shooting the shit with a few regulars from his position behind the bar. Crystal peeked at the men from underneath her lashes. “We’re here to see Darnell. Is he around?” The man who’d spoken was tall, bulky in the shoulders, with longish brown hair and an expression that hinted at a smile.
“I’ll call him out here for you,” Walker said. He gestured toward Crystal. “In the meantime, Crystal would be happy to show you to a table and take your drink orders.”
She turned on her inner flirt, smiled, and batted her eyelashes. “Gentlemen, if you’ll follow me, please.”