Reclaimed (Powell Sanctuary #5)

Chapter 3

3

Aiden

“This is really what you do for fun?”

I drain the final mouthful of whiskey in my glass as Silas Stone saunters in front of me. The bulk of his police vest covering his torso blocks the view of the brunette flipping around the pole. No matter. Isla’s set hasn’t started yet. So long as he’s out of the way before then we won’t have a problem.

“What else would you recommend?” I flick my fingers in the air to flag down a waitress for another.

“What’s wrong with The Rocks?”

“Ruben isn’t as pretty to look at,” I say, referencing the old bartender at our local watering hole. I tried spending some time there, but the amount of people who knew me got to be annoying as fuck. I couldn’t take one more pitying look, one more how are you really , one more person entering my personal space just to tell me I was a fucking hero.

I didn’t feel like a hero. I felt like I was losing my grip.

Out here at XO’s, on the outskirts of town, I’m left alone with my thoughts.

Usually.

Silas laughs, tipping his chin to take in the dancer. “You’re not wrong about that.”

“What are you doing out this way?”

“Sutton and I are checking in on some things,” he states cryptically, dodging the question. As if I won’t hear it through the grapevine in a matter of days.

Silas and his brother Sutton are Fairview Valley’s golden boys. The brothers joined the force one after the other, and the town practically worships them for their charm and sacrifice.

Our families grew up together, so to say us Powells are used to the Stone siblings is an understatement. We were practically inseparable all throughout high school, and those friendships continue to span decades.

“Sounds riveting.”

“I have a night off tomorrow. We should meet at The Rocks. See if Corjan can join us for a drink.”

I eye him suspiciously, as if I can judge the authenticity of the invitation. The idea of sitting in a bar making small talk feels draining. Even this conversation feels draining.

“Maybe another time.”

“Been hearing a lot of that from you lately.” Silas rocks back on his heels. His usually charismatic smirk falls flat.

The waitress deposits my fresh drink on the table between us. I toss back a hefty sip, letting the alcohol replace the guilt coursing through my system, before letting the glass connect back against the wood with a harsh thunk .

“Haven’t been feeling up to the company.”

Sutton steps up beside his brother, and one look has Silas dropping the entire conversation. “Hey, Aiden.”

“Sutton,” I tip my chin. “Police business all the way out here?”

The side of his mouth quirks. “Police business everywhere.”

“Let me know when you do,” Silas draws the conversation back around to my last statement and knocks his knuckles once against my table.

“I will,” I answer, shifting my eyes over the brothers before locking them on the stage. The lights dim as the brunette leaves.

They depart with a crackle of their radios, muttering together and offering a couple of distracted waves.

Leaning back in my booth, I fixate my eyes on the glittering curtain. With the rise of the spotlight, Isla appears. The room breaks out into excited yells as her mere presence commands the crowd.

“Look at the fucking rack on her.”

“Dude, look at her fucking stomach. No thanks.”

“She’s fat, but with the way she moves, I bet she’d be an incredible fuck.”

“Why don’t you try to find out? I bet she’d be desperate for some dick. She doesn’t look like she gets much.”

The bachelor party to my left bursts into howls of laughter.

My fist curls where it rests atop the table and I know my cheeks are red. The flush coursing up my neck burns like a warning. I need to calm the fuck down before I hop over this partition and teach them something about respecting women.

I keep my focus on Isla, staring at the way she contorts herself around the gleaming silver pole. Those fucks don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. She’s damn gorgeous. A goddess wrapped in silver packaging any man would be lucky to unravel.

Despite the money flying onto the stage, the group to my left doesn’t shut the fuck up. Using the precious time I get to see her dance to degrade her because her looks don’t match their preferences. Only weak, insecure men stoop so low. They’re too stupid to realize there’s a reason she has a prime time spot on the roster.

Their wise cracks break through my concentration again, followed by raucous laughter.

“Allow me to pay for a private dance.”

“Dude, no.”

“I’ll throw in an extra fifty bucks for you if you can get her to take her top off.”

“Yeah man. Get a mouthful of those big tits before you’re no longer a single man.”

“I’m not a single man,” one of them laughs. “I’m getting married in the morning.”

“All the more reason to see if she breaks your legs with a lap dance.”

“Fine. But you each owe me fifty if I fuck her.”

Someone slaps the table and the boisterous hoots sound again.

“That’s my boy!”

“Don’t take no for an answer!”

I shove myself out of the booth. I fight against the urge to glare down each one of those mother fuckers as I cross in front of their table. A pulse throbs in the back of my head as I make my way to the security guard blocking the back hallway.

“I want to buy Stella’s dances tonight.”

The guy looks at me from behind his thick rimmed black glasses. “Only one.”

“I’ll sit for one but I want to pay for them all so she doesn’t see anyone else.”

“The rules say one client equals one dance.”

“This is how it’s going to go. I’m going to hand over my credit card to cover all of her dances tonight and I’m going to sit for one. Everyone gets paid and she can go home early.”

“Why would you do that?”

“You see that table of guys over there?”

He leans around me to glance at the rowdy group. “Yes.”

“They’re planning an attempt to sexually assault her. I’m going to sit for a dance to keep her occupied so she doesn’t have to see you throw their asses out and ban them from ever coming back.”

“Maybe I should throw you out and ban you from ever coming back.”

“She’s my friend. I’ve known her for a long time. I’m going to make a guess that with the crowd she pulls, your boss likes having her here. She brings in a lot of business. One word from me, and she’ll quit on the spot. All those clients that watch her shake her ass will stop coming to the mediocre replacement act.”

His blue gaze is calculating as he stares me down evaluating my bluff. “Give me your credit card.”

I effortlessly hand over the thin plastic just as I feel a presence behind me. The smell of stale whiskey floats over my right shoulder.

“Hurry it up man, I need to buy my boy a lap dance.”

The security guard holds out my card, and I slip it from between his outstretched fingers.

I turn as I slide it back into my wallet, staring down the asshole behind me as I tuck the billfold back into my jeans.

“Sorry man, there’s none left.”

The humor falls from his face as he looks from me to the security guard rising to his feet.

“C’mon, there’s got to be one dance.”

I slap him hard on the shoulder as I pass. “Better luck next time. Or maybe not, if you’re going to joke about putting women in nonconsensual situations.”

“Hey, fuck you!” he shouts as his friend puts a hand on his shoulder to hold him back.

I stare him down coldly. “You should be thanking me. I just saved you from winding up in jail.”

“You’re a prick.”

“And you’re a predator.”

I leave him with the security guard and walk to the private room down the hall.

The small room has two pieces of furniture. An armless chair sits in the middle of the space and a padded leather sofa is pushed up against the far wall. I can only imagine the sort of activities that take place in here, but I shove the unwanted imagery from my mind. Juniper used to work here, it’s where she met Isla, and both of them were adamant that the place wasn’t seedy. That doesn’t mean certain dancers don’t take it upon themselves to earn extra tips for favors. The thought of Isla in such a compromising situation sours my stomach with jealousy. It’s becoming apparent over the last few weeks that I want her to myself.

I settle onto the couch, careful not to touch it too much with any exposed skin. I’ll wait here until she shows up and explain the situation. I’d be no better than those fucking guys if I force her to dance for me just because I paid for it. Hell, I’m happy to spend the time having a conversation and making sure she’s okay. And after, I can walk her out to her car to confirm she doesn’t run into trouble.

Or I can leave now before she knows what I’ve done.