Fatal Instincts (Book 1, the Fatal Trilogy Series)

Chapter 3.

"I don't know where you're from, but that doesn't fly around here." TJ is still scolding my behavior a day later. "You don't want to be on their bad side."   

I finish drying the last glass and wiggle it into place under the bar. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that it's a bit too late to worry now. You know, no crying over spilled milk and all that."

Whitney, one of the weekend dancers, laughs as she hops up to sit on the bar. "You're crazy."

"Heard that one before." I wink at her, putting the rags away and closing up the cases now that we've got everything prepped for tonight.

"Well I can see why." She eyes me with a toothy smile. "Seriously, Becca and Ren are the only two who actually talk to them, especially to Daimon. He asked me for a private dance once and I was terrified the whole time that I was going to accidently pee in his lap. And you know, not all men are into that."

I laugh so hard that I snort, and her expression stays plain. She's exactly the type of person I'd be friends with if I had friends anymore. " Well, ladies, I think I made an impression." I flip my thick sandy blonde hair over my shoulder.

"I'd say," TJ nods, eyeing me like I'm a two headed beaver. "But I don't think it's a good one."

I shrug one shoulder. "That remains to be seen."

They both shake their heads with that bless your heart look. I don't blame them. I was specifically warned about Daimon and his men, and I went and pushed the buttons like an unsupervised kid in an elevator. I may get buried in an unmarked grave out behind their creepy clubhouse, but it might be worth it to know I wiped the smile right off of that pretentious jerk.

"Where are you from?" Whitney asks, twirling her hair around her index finger.

Easy. "Everywhere."

"You got a guy?" TJ asks while she washes her hands. "Or a girl? No one's judging."

A guy. I've got a guy alright. One I wish I could ditch once and for all. But hell, I'm smart enough a woman to know that even if he weren't chasing on my tale, I'll never be free of him. He made damn sure of that. He's a part of me now until the day I finally die.

"Had a guy, he's long gone now though." At least for now.

TJ shakes her head and Whitney pops her bubbalicious bubble gum.

"Damn, with that body? Those are real right?" Whitney points to my boobs and I nod proudly. They're my super power. "What kind of fool would let a girl like you get away?"

"Interesting question." A deep man's voice makes us all jump. None of us had seen him walk in.

"Mr. Kross." TJ straightens up and Whitney goes pale. Pale-er. The girl was a rival of Casper. "Didn't see you there. If you're looking for Jeb, he's just run out for a bit. He should be back in a few."

Daimon doesn't even bother looking at her, his eyes are glued directly to mine. "No worries," He quickly shuts her up and then glowers at me. "Answer the question."

I don't want to, but something about the way he just demands it. I lose my fucking head for a minute and word vomit just flies right out of my mouth. "I suppose he couldn't tell I was hot anymore after he gave me the two black eyes that were swollen shut, but I guess you'd really have to ask him."

Whitney slides off of the bar, her voice so low and timid, total opposite of usual. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-."

"Not a big deal." I cut her off. I fucking hate sympathy. I don't even need it.