Mace (Untamed Sons MC: Birmingham Chapter #1)

11. Maylie

ELEVEN

MAYLIE

I hate leaving Toby alone, but he sets himself up on his console, talking to his friends online. I give him the rundown of the rules while I’m gone then reluctantly leave. He hasn’t burned the house down when I’ve left him other times this week, so I’m sure he’ll be fine, but still, worry spreads through me.

I set a brisk pace to get to work on time, trying to figure out a solution to my problems. I need money fast, and I don’t even know what I need to do for my sister.

As I approach Temptation, there is a little part of me that’s relieved that I can slip into the role I play here. The thought of being someone else, even if it’s only for a few hours, is enough to leach the tension from my shoulders.

Archie is on the door, and he gives me a wide smile that I mirror despite the storm raging inside me.

“Hey, Maylie girl.”

“Hey. You’re looking good, Arch. Have you been working out? ”

He smirks. “I work out every damn day. Don’t sit there and pretend you don’t notice the guns.”

He lifts his arms as if he’s a bodybuilder, kissing his bicep. I can’t see how big his muscles are beneath his jacket, but I whistle anyway. “No wonder all the girls fall at your feet.”

As I go to pass him, he stops me. “Hey, you okay?”

No. I’m slowly dying inside. “Yeah, of course.”

His eyes narrow, as if he can see my truth, and I try to hide behind the walls I’ve never needed to construct before. “You sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He can’t answer that, so I take the opportunity to slip by him and into the building.

I head straight to my locker, saying hello to the girls as I pass them. I’m no longer Maylie but whoever the girl is in the bubble gum pink wig.

I manage to hold this for barely thirty seconds. I hate pretending to be okay when I’m not. The swell of self-loathing I feel is overwhelming as I blink back my tears. Crying never solved a damn thing. I know that because I’d spent months crying over my mother, hoping she would survive, but she died anyway.

Blissful numbness spreads through me, shutting down the sharpness of my despair into something more manageable. I’ve never felt so unhinged from my life, from my objectives, as I do at this moment. Nothing is going right, and I can’t fix it.

I strip down to my uniform as the girls move through the room in bras and thongs. Every one of them is going to make a tidy profit tonight, and while I’ll make good tips, it’s not a fraction of the cash they’ll see .

It’s cash I desperately need before Bernie propositions me again or decides to make good on his threat of eviction.

I can’t let Toby lose his home. He’s in a good place right now. He has friends, and he tolerates school, but he gets up and goes every day.

It’s just boobs…

My gaze lowers to my distinctly average chest. Sam never seemed to care that I’m not as big as the other girls. He didn’t even care that I can’t dance. I know exactly why he wanted me on that stage.

It’s not like I have to have sex with anyone or let them touch me, right?

Could I… could I really stand on that stage and take my top off?

It’s just boobs…

If I repeat that enough, I might start to believe it.

The war raging inside me is volatile, but I made my decision before I stepped foot in the building.

I don’t care what it takes, I will keep my family together. If that means getting on that stage and taking my clothes off, then that’s what I’ll do.

I close my locker and secure it before I head into the main room, just as Mace is crossing the floor to take up his usual seat at the bar.

My resolve wavers slightly at the sight of him. The man exudes hotness that I had no idea existed outside of movies and books.

Can I really do this?

His gaze lifts as I walk towards him, and the look in his eyes as I approach is almost… predatory. I don’t know if that’s the right word, but he watches every step I take until I’m a bundle of nerves .

“Hey, Mace.”

“Hey, darlin’.”

Oh, that makes my stomach flutter in a way it has no right to. He’s just being nice. He doesn’t really mean the endearment, but my stupid heart doesn’t get that memo. “Have you assigned a manager yet?”

His expression is quizzical. “Why?”

“I need to talk to whoever’s in charge of… I guess… HR.”

He snorts. “Babe, does this seem like the kind of place that has a fuckin’ HR department?”

Good point. I wince. “Okay, so I need to speak with whoever is in charge of assigning jobs.”

“You can talk to me.”

Not on the main floor, I can’t. Bella’s already watching us closely. “Can we talk in private?”

He slips off the stool and gestures for me to follow him. I don’t look at Bella as I head after him. Mace takes me to what used to be Sam’s office, and I shut the door behind us as he moves to the desk and leans against the front of it.

Now that we’re alone, my doubts are raging frantically through me. If Sam was still manager here, there wouldn’t be a problem. He would have me on stage in five seconds flat. But Mace might not be so keen on a change of pace.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

He looks so handsome. His dark hair is pushed back, as if he’s been running his fingers through it repeatedly, and he’s got a five o’clock shadow spreading over his jaw. As usual, he’s wearing his leather vest that marks him as a member of the Untamed Sons, and tonight, he has a light blue shirt beneath it that stretches over his bulky frame.

My mouth opens and then closes .

“Maylie?” His eyes soften in a way I don’t expect from a man like him, and my stomach dips as my skin feels heated.

The problem is, the way he’s looking at me means all my courage flees.

For some reason, his opinion of me matters, though I doubt he will care if I want to show my breasts to strangers—after all, his club owns this place—but I’m embarrassed to even bring this up.

“Oh, never mind. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

He comes to stand in front of me, and my mouth is suddenly dry. Mace is so tall, he looms over my smaller frame, the top of my head barely reaching under his chin. I should be terrified of him, and yet that is not what I feel pulsing between my legs.

“What do you need?” he asks.

I have to do this. Whether it’s embarrassing or not, I have no choice. If I don’t pay my rent, Bernie is going to demand a price I’m not willing to pay.

So, I force myself to ask for what I need. “Before Sam was… um… fired , he offered me a position on stage. I want to take up that offer.”

Fired is a nice word for what happened, but I don’t want to piss Mace off when I’m asking for a favour. The way his expression changes tells me I might have already done that.

Way to go, Maylie.

I watch fascinated as his jaw ticks and his eyes darken. “You wanna be on stage?”

“This is a strip club, Mace, and the girls make better money than the bar staff.”

There isn’t even a beat of time before he says, “No. ”

I raise my eyebrows. “I can dance.” That’s a lie—I have no rhythm, but I’ll learn.

“You ain’t a dancer, Maylie.”

For some reason, his lack of belief hits a nerve. I hate being told I can’t do something.

My lips turn down at the corners. “Well, you’re wrong. I have moves, Mace, and I know I’ll bring in money.”

I don’t know what possesses me, other than the fact I really need to be on that stage, but I start to sway my hips from side to side, playing an imaginary beat in my head.

His lips part in… shock? Irritation? Disgust?

“What are you doing?” he demands.

“Showing you that I can strip.”

My hands move over my thighs, rubbing close to between my legs in the way I’ve seen the other girls do on stage.

What the fuck are you doing, Maylie?

I need to stop, but I can’t. I need this job, and he is the one with the power to give it to me. I channel my inner stripper, swaying from side to side, my hands moving up my body to my breasts, touching along the sides of them.

“Maylie…” A warning cracks through his voice, but I ignore it, dipping low and thrusting my ass out.

As I turn, his hands latch around my biceps, stopping my motions. “Darlin’, stop.”

Embarrassment floods me, shame and defeat vying for attention. He isn’t going to let me do this, and why would he? I’m awful.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, lowering my head so I don’t have to see the disgust in his eyes.

I can’t believe I just did that.

I need to get the hell out of here, and quickly. I dart towards the door as if I’m being chased by the devil, but as I reach for the handle, he steps behind me, his hand planting against the door above my head. His weight prevents me from pulling it open, and my stomach plummets to the floor.

Am I about to get fired?

“Mace…” I whisper.

“I ain’t going to deny you look like a fucking wet dream doing that, but you ain’t going on that stage.”

He thinks I look good?

A wet dream?

Suddenly, the back of my neck is warm, and I’m acutely aware of his heat behind me. “Turn around. I ain’t talking to your back.”

Slowly, I do as he asks, my spine pressing into the wood behind me as he keeps me bracketed between him and the door.

My chest is tight, my heart fluttering beneath my ribs as he dips his head.

Is he going to kiss me?

My pulse kicks up several notches. Do I want him to kiss me?

But his lips don’t descend. “I’m not tryin’ to hurt you, but this… it ain’t happening.”

“Why not?”

His eyes narrow, and his mouth slackens. “It just ain’t.”

I peer up at him, irritation rolling through me. I don’t even try to be polite and friendly. I’m pissed.

“So, I look like a wet dream, but you won’t let me dance? Why not? You can never have too many girls, and if it’s about losing a bartender, I’ll help find my replacement. ”

“I don’t give a shit about losing a bartender. You just ain’t doing it.”

I grind my molars together, trying not to let my frustration and desperation mould into something ugly.

“I need this, Mace. Please.”

His brows come together. I’ve said too much, and now, he’s going to pry into my shit… shit I don’t want to confess to anyone. I’ll take Bernie’s dirty little proposition to the grave. “Why?”

“None of your business. Are you going to let me dance or not?”

“I’m not.”

I glare at him. “Then I guess I’m looking for a new job.”

I try to move out from under him, but Mace’s huge frame pins me against the wood. My heart is pounding, though not out of fear. I’m not scared of him. Maybe I should be, but all I feel is heat coursing through me at the look he’s directing at me. He makes my body come alive in a way I didn’t know was possible.

“You ain’t leaving because I won’t let you get your tits out on stage,” he growls.

“Well, unfortunately, I have no choice.”

“Are you in trouble, Maylie?”

So much…

It sits on the tip of my tongue to reveal all the pressure weighing down on my shoulders, but the truth is, I don’t know Mace well enough to divulge my problems. And as much as I want to trust him and put my faith in him, I can’t. He might decide my shit is too much and fire me.

“The girls get better tips on the stage.”

There’s a flash of disappointment. Is he annoyed I’m not telling him the truth ?

“The answer is still no.”

I wrap my arms around my middle, my gut churning. “I’d better go help Bella behind the bar,” I say, slipping from under him, and this time, he lets me go, lifting off the door so I can open it.

“If you’re in trouble, I can help.”

Can he stitch the broken pieces of my life back together? Somehow, I highly doubt it.

“I’m fine.”

He doesn’t stop me as I leave, hurrying across the main floor towards the bar. Bella looks at me as I approach, question in her eyes.

“Let’s hope we have a good night tonight,” I say around a huge smile I don’t feel. I’m going to have to work harder than usual to get tips tonight. Maybe if I can give Bernie whatever I have after each shift, he’ll leave me the hell alone, then I can just focus on the nightmare of my sister dating an adult.

“Everything okay?”

“Of course.”

But nothing is okay. My landlord wants to sleep with me to reduce my rent, my sister’s dating a man, and I just tried a lap dance for Mace.

Could things get any worse?