Ruthless King (New Orleans Malones #4)

Chapter 19

19

J illy was so tired.

Bone-deep tired. She’d barely managed to get through her last set. As she walked off the stage, she tripped and would have fallen if Keegan hadn’t caught her.

“Whoa, darlin’, you all right?” Keegan had a thick Irish accent. It was hot as heck.

“Yes. Sorry, I’m just tired.”

“You sure that’s all it is?”

She nodded, feeling like her head was going to slide right off her neck. Urgh.

“You don’t look all right to me, darlin’. You finished for the night?”

“No, I’ve got one more set.”

“Nope. You’re finished for the night,” he said firmly as he took hold of her arm and led her down to the dressing room.

She was cold despite the fact that she’d been dancing for the last twenty minutes, and her wig was itching.

“Get changed, darlin’. I’ll arrange it so I can take you home.”

“What? No, I can’t go home.”

“Nyx,” a deep voice called.

She glanced over and she saw Santé striding toward her. As far as bosses went, Santé was pretty decent. Although she guessed anyone would seem good next to Margaret. The old bat.

“Yes?” she asked, her voice cracking.

Wow. Why did it feel like the room was spinning?

“I got a request for a private dance. Four times what we normally ask for the other girls.”

“Santé, you know Nyx doesn’t do private dances,” Keegan said in a deep voice.

“Four times,” Santé repeated.

Okay, so he was a better boss than Margaret, but he wasn’t perfect. Santé was all about making money. He treated the girls decently. But she knew he’d push to get the most out of them.

“I don’t do private dances,” she said firmly.

“Look, Nyx. You have to work with me here. I could easily replace you with a girl eager to give lap dances.”

“Then you should do that.”

It would hurt to lose this job when she was so close to being back in the black. It would mean probably six months of living lean.

But she didn’t give lap dances and wouldn’t be starting now.

“All right. I hear you. No lap dances. I had to try, right?” He grinned and winked.

She was too tired to deal with this shit.

“Go get ready for your next set.”

“She can’t go on, boss,” Keegan said.

“What? Why not?” Santé asked sharply.

“Because she’s burning up, and if I wasn’t holding her up, she’d collapse.”

“Hey!” she protested.

“Hey, what?” Keegan asked. “You telling me that’s not accurate?”

Jilly took a mental stock of what was happening. No, that was pretty fair.

“Are you sure?” Santé snapped out a hand and she shied back with a cry.

Both men froze.

“Nyx, I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

“I . . . you just moved fast. That’s all,” she said weakly as she let him put his hand over her forehead.

“Fuck, you’re right. She’s burning up. Fine, call her an Uber and get her home. I don’t want anyone else catching whatever she’s got.”

“Your empathy is outstanding, boss,” Keegan said dryly.

She elbowed him in the side. He didn’t need to stick his neck out for her, especially since he shouldn’t talk to Santé that way.

Her boss narrowed his gaze at them both. “Just go. I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

“I thought I’d drive her home,” Keegan said.

“No, I can’t afford for you to be away. Just get her an Uber. See you next week, Nyx.”

With a sigh, she watched him walk away.

“I don’t feel good about just putting you in an Uber, darlin’.”

She patted his chest. “I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Keegan grunted. “Well, I’ll order one to pick you up out front so Mike can keep an eye on you.”

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. “Don’t worry, I’ll order it. Now, go back to work.”

“Nyx.”

“Go! I’m fine. Thanks.” She meant that. Keegan had always been kind to her.

She managed to make her way into her changing room. She didn’t feel like getting changed or taking off all her make-up. So she simply took off her wig and placed it in her locker, then pulled her hoodie over her head.

It made her look like she wasn’t wearing anything under the hoodie, but she couldn’t find it in her to care.

As she moved past the makeup desk, something caught her attention. There was a note on her desk with her name on it.

Well, Nyx’s name was on it.

Jilly thought about leaving it there. But then she remembered that this room wasn’t quite as secure as she would’ve liked. If Kimmy and her boyfriend could sneak in here, then surely anyone could.

So she grabbed the note, vaguely noting that her hand was shaking. She felt hot and sweaty.

Yuck.

Opening the note, she stared at the words, not really comprehending what she was reading.

I know your secret.

And if you don’t want me to tell . . . you’re going to have to buy my silence.

Ten thousand dollars.

It listed instructions on where and when to make the drop. But she was too tired to pay attention. Her head was throbbing and she just wanted to sleep.

Jilly knew she really must be sick because she couldn’t even muster any alarm over the note or what it meant. Instead, she stuffed the note into her hoodie pocket and drew the hoodie up over her head.

Bringing up her phone, she managed to order an Uber to pick her up down the block. She’d go out the back and walk down there.

Sure, it wasn’t as safe as waiting out the front with one of the club’s bouncers. But it meant that she was less likely to be noticed.

Walking out the back door, she nearly fell over as a wave of dizziness hit her.

Crap. This wasn’t good. How sick was she?

“Hey, are you all right?”

She tensed as she heard a man’s voice calling out to her from farther down the alleyway.

Who was there? What did they want?

“Easy,” the man said, walking closer and holding his hands up. “I just wanted to check that you were all right. You looked like you were about to collapse.”

“I-I’m fine. My, uh, my boyfriend is waiting for me. I need to go.”

“He should walk in and escort you out, then,” the man chided. “It’s not safe to walk around here at night.”

Yeah. No kidding.

“I’ll tell him that.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

No, no, no.

“Really, I’m fine. He’s, uh, he’s the jealous type.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll only walk you out to the street and then watch from afar.”

It sounded like a nice offer, but she wasn’t so sure.

“Relax, I’m a friend of Kimmy’s. Let me walk you out. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you when I could have prevented it.”

Well, she guessed that was fair.

“All right. Thank you.” She coughed, her throat feeling scratchy.

Oh, this wasn’t good.

She rarely got sick, and when she did, she wasn’t very good at taking care of herself.

“Well, he’s just down there.” She gestured down the road. “Thanks.”

She stepped away, trying not to rush and look like she didn’t want to be around him.

“You’re welcome, Nyx.”

Jilly stiffened, tripping once more. How had he known she was Nyx? Kimmy’s friend . . . the guy who’d been making out with her last weekend? Trick, no Trent, no Trip!

But how did he know she was Nyx with her hoodie up?

It didn’t matter.

He didn’t know her real name. And why would he care?

Pushing the worries from her mind, she climbed into the Uber car. Too late, she realized she probably should have gotten into the front seat in case he was watching.

Urgh.

There was no fixing that now.