Extraordinary

:Chapitre Une:

A/N: Liam Hickey, who's playing Lachlan, is in the "White Doves" music video linked in the sidebar. Google him if you want to see more pictures. Now you'll get to see what he looks like c;

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Chapter One

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"So... you're a stripper," Lachlan said slowly. 

I immediately spewed my tea all over his face, gagging on air. He watched in amusement as I had a ridiculously painful coughing fit. Through watering eyes, I saw him take a dainty sip from his cup.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said with false politeness, purposely widening his eyes in feigned innocence. He dabbed at his lips with a small white handkerchief. "May I help you, my precious sunshine?"

"Go...to...hell..." I wheezed, clapping a weak hand over his mouth. He shrugged, and his next words were muffled by my hand. It sounded an awful lot like "You asked for it," but I couldn't be certain.

I felt something warm and wet on my hand.

"Ew!" I quickly pulling my hand away. "You didn't have to lick me."

Lachlan took another sip of tea, batting his eyelashes.

I stuck my nose in the air. "Unless you have a fetish for hands."

He winked. "Only yours, sunshine."

"Stop calling me that," I snapped, pulling my thin sweater tighter around me. 

We were in the small, run-down diner across from Charlie's Nightclub. My shift had ended a few minutes before, and during the show, I'd demanded that Charlie keep Lachlan in the backroom so he wouldn't watch.

It was weird. I could dance in front of hundreds of pervy strangers in wifebeaters slicked with sweat, working my body out on the stage without even a hint of shame, but not an acquaintance. No, not someone I knew.

I could never let them see what my life had come to after my parents' horrific death, leaving us with a reputation that had landed me with no other job option but this, practically selling my body at a sleazy club in nothing but a bra and panties.

Nobody could know.

Especially not Lachlan.

Remembering "The Quincey Incident," I was instantly slapped into the present. I knew what Lachlan was capable of, and none of it was good. Lachlan Faute ruined lives, and after what he'd seen today, I knew I was next on his list.

Without meaning to, a recollection of my sister, Kendra, appeared in my head. Running down the hill behind our house to the thinly trickling stream, sending small paper boats down the current in hopes that they'd someday reach Mum and Dad.

She still didn't completely understand that they were gone. She was only five, after all. But it hurt to see her so hopeful that they'd return.

I instantly sobered. Turning to face Lachlan, I noticed that he'd been studying me. Catching my gaze, the smirk quickly reappeared. I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts.

"Lachlan. I know what it looks like," I began, my throat still swollen from the tea.

He took another sip. God, he seriously had to stop doing that. It was creeping me the fuck out.

"But it's my only option," I whispered. I winced when I heard my voice crack.

"Only option?" Lachlan repeated, giving me a doubtful look. 

I sighed. "You've read the papers. You know how my parents died."

"Not really," he yawned. "I don't trust the press."

My mouth opened and closed; I felt like a fish out of water, absolutely speechless. I got fed up. I always hated when I was at a loss for words.

"I don't have time for this!" I finally hissed.

He grabbed a milkshake right out of the hand of the girl sitting behind us, winking before he took a sip. The girl tittered with her friends, fluttering her lashes like Lachlan had jokingly done earlier.

My temper flared. I snatched the drink from his hand, slamming it back on the girl's table before turning to glare at him.

"Jackass! This is life or death for me!" I growled, whapping him over the head with the napkin dispenser. "You can't go around stealing girls' drinks when you have my biggest secret in the palm of your hand!"

He casually tilted his chair onto its back legs, kicking his feet up on the table. "True, true." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Ah, yes, your secret." At the word, he wiggled his eyebrows. 

I punched him in the jaw.

Yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. But my grandmother always told me that violence was not the answer.

It was a question.

And the answer was "yes."

As soon as my fist made contact with his now-formerly-flawless face, there was a loud thwack. I swear all the bones in my right hand broke from the impact, but I swelled with satisfaction when I saw him topple over. When he stood up, a red mark was blooming across his cheek.

Lachlan looked more bewildered than pained. He gingerly touched his face, staring at me open-mouthed.  

I fidgeted uncomfortably. "You were asking for it..."

"Save it for the bedroom," he smiled coyly. 

"How can you keep your temper?" I blurted out. "I just punched you!"

This guy was unbelievable. 

"What can I say?" he grabbed a couple fries from the girl's table. "You're even hotter when you're mad." He winked before popping them into his mouth.

"I hope you choke on those," I muttered darkly.

He held a hand up to his ear. "I don't think I quite caught that."

"SHUT. UP. We need to get back on track!" I shouted, pushing back my chair. It screeched across the  linoleum floor, sending a dog cowering beneath a booth.

Lachlan held up his hands in defense. "I rest my case."

"What?" I bit my lip, momentarily forgetting about my anger.

He grinned triumphantly. "See?" he leaned closer. "Hot."

I shoved his shoulder, scowling. "Really. I need this job for the money. No one else in town will hire me."

He started to say something, but I interrupted. "Not a word."

Lachlan opened his mouth again. I frowned, putting a finger to his lips. "Shh." I ignored the warm feeling of his lips, sending my stomach aflutter. I cocked my head to the side. "You really don't listen, do you?"

 He gently bit my finger. "I guess not," he said huskily.

I instantly yelped, jumping away. Admittedly, the small touch alone had my head spinning and my cheeks flushing pink. But I wouldn't let it show. "Let me lay out all the cards in the open," I said. 

He looked smug. "I don't see any cards."

"It's an expression," I said flatly.

He rolled his eyes, waving me on. 

"You know my secret. I've got nothing on you," I put my hands on my hips. "You win. Whoop-de-fucking-hoo. So what's your next move?" 

Despite my outer calm, I could feel the blood rushing to my head. This was it: the moment of truth. My hands started to turn clammy.

A slow smile began to thaw his expression. My heart warmed -- maybe he understood. I found myself leaning closer. Lachlan moved fluidly to my side so his next words would brush my ear, sending chills down my spine.

"Blackmail."