Thursday, May 24, 2018

FAÇADE Chapter 2


Under the dead of night
Blending with shifting light
I see you, just another job to do
Lead me to clear, unobstructed view
Trying not to give myself away
Feel me nearer, what's to come?
Just another job to do

~Jerry Cantrell, A Job To Do

How I wound up with a bullet hole in my shoulder.

Bella only had one duffle bag full of clothes and another bag for toiletries. The place the dancers lived was a shithole compared to the ‘luxuries’ of my rundown one-bedroom. There were so many of them that they shared beds, and ‘beds’ was a loose term, since it was really mattresses thrown down wherever. The dining room had been repurposed into a bedroom with two mattresses and a clothing rack, and the living room was overflowing with girl junk.

We hauled ass as soon as she threw her bag into the backseat of my Caddy. I wasn’t a complete buffoon, so I offered her the bedroom and said I’d sleep on the couch, which was pretty stupid of me considering that couch was six inches shy of six feet long, with me being six-two. I also knew I couldn’t go sticking my dick in the first stripper that gave me her sob story, or I’d be in deep shit with the boss. I was already more than a little scared of both of my current bosses, the legitimate and the illegitimate, in regard to their reactions to Bella living with me.

Since she didn’t have a car, I offered Bella a ride into work that night. It was so fucking cold the heater couldn’t even make a dent, and I saw my breath puffing out every time I breathed. I tried hard not to look over at her, because she looked so fucking hot. Her mouth was painted a deep red, standing out against her pale flesh. The constant black liner was there, and she’d added some kind of eye makeup to make it all dark and hot as hell. I was thankful that whatever she was wearing was covered up under her heavy black coat. If I could actually see that she went to work dressed in stripper gear, I’d probably jump her in the car and end up with a broken nose.

After I parked, I suggested she walk separately, but she said it would be no big deal. “Nobody cares who I ride with,” she insisted, climbing out and heading to the door.

“Maybe, but I’m new here, and King Kong will probably smash me into the concrete if I break a rule. Not to mention Emmett coming in as a close second in the Titan department.”

I watched as the muscle in her jaw tightened at my words. “Felix would be smarter if he kept his thoughts to himself.” Her jaw relaxed. “After all, opinions are like assholes, everyone has one.” She winked.

“Uh…” I’d lost my opportunity to respond, as she was already dragging me up to the door.

“Open up, Mickey Mouse,” she demanded, hands on her hips.

I’ll be damned if he didn't just swing the door open without a word or an eye twitch. She moved over to a locker and opened it, stowing her bag and then shrugging out of her coat and scarf. My mouth went dry as she slowly untwisted the purple knit, her back to me. Her ass was shapely, curved in just the right way and perky. I wanted to do unholy things to that ass, and I knew I had to divert my attention immediately. I pretended to be messing around in my own locker.

“See ya, slick,” she said as she breezed by me.

Yes, she wore her stripping outfit under her coat. Yes, it was a flimsy excuse for clothing, consisting of sheer black material showing off a thong in siren red to match her lips, and nothing else. Except for the needle thin high heels that might be the nail in my coffin.

Ah, fuck.

So we continued for days that turned into weeks, the cold turning rainy and slushy. It was miserable outside, and it seemed every businessman in the city wanted to warm up in the titty bar. I was frustrated in more ways than one, because I’d seen nothing at all at work, not even the code to get in one of the rooms that had to be offices at the very least. I’d seen Emmett coming and going, and he talked frequently with one of the bartenders, a short man that had more neck than brains named Liam. I figured easily that he served as the eyes and ears for the boss. The boss that must spend his time with his feet up in his penthouse or some shit, cause he sure as shit wasn’t ever here. I was actually starting to believe he must not put in any work, like Bella had said.

I had to tell Bella I was running errands a time or two to head to my meet-up with SSA Black on a jogging trail. We could basically be alone, and he always waited for me well past the busier beginning and end section of the trail. It was good to get a jog in, since the meeting was a bust; at least I wasn't wasting my time.

The other source of my frustration was Bella, obviously. She changed her hair color pretty regular, and most recently, it was blonde. I was surprised that I liked it as much as I did, but holy fucking hell she made a dynamic blonde. She had a terrible habit of walking around in long sleeved shirts just barely long enough to cover her ass and knee high or thigh high socks. I was dying, literally a man on his last legs, because pounding it into my hand in the tiny cell of a shower was not working. I kept picturing her full mouth wrapped around my cock, or the legs that went on forever wrapped around my face, and I’d have to hide in the bathroom for twenty minutes to either calm down or jack off. The girl musta thought I had toilet issues.

The worst day of my entire twenty-eight years came when I was trying to jerk a quick one without getting in the shower for the third time in one day. I had my pants around my ankles, standing in front of the toilet and bracing one hand on the towel rack. Just as I was coming, I tried to grab the hand towel to catch the jizz when the towel bar came off the wall and sent me flying ass first into the cold water of the bowl. I shouted and cussed, jumping up and then slipping when my bare foot caught the water I’d splashed out, and I fell again, this time stuck between the porcelain god and the tub. Naturally, because fuck my luck, Bella came knocking on the door to ask if I was okay. I told her I’d ripped the fucking bar off the wall and that I was just fine, but did that stop her? No, it did not stop her.

Long, creamy legs came into view first until I shoved the towel and the offending bar out of my face, then I saw that blonde hair in a ponytail spilling over her shoulder, her eyes bright as she tried not to laugh at me. My ass was on the cold tile, the cracks and uneven parts digging into my flesh, my cock was laying scared and tucked into his friend the ball sack, and my knees were in the air with my feet splayed one over the tub and one over the toilet bowl. I would have gladly put my service piece to my head instead of facing Bella, but I’d turned that shit in. Goddammit.

“Oh, Tony. Do you need help?” She lost the battle, and went into a spate of giggles.

“No, sugar, I think I’m going to go ahead and die here, thanks. If you could just, you know, leave? I’ll be fine.” I watched her turn to go, the bottom curve of her asscheeks basically on display, and tilted my head enough to bang it on the tub. “Ow.”

Though it took some maneuvering, I got my feet under me and twisted and shifted until I was out, then I just lay flat on that blasted floor while I tried to find my dignity, which was lost somewhere between the toilet and my taint. Finally getting up and fastening my jeans, I reminded myself never to leave the seat up again, and then I washed my hands and left the bathroom praying that Bella had found a reason to leave the apartment.

“You’ve got a bit of, uh…” Nope, not that lucky. “Some toilet paper, I think.” Her hands brushed at my stubble, and I blinked.

Standing just outside the bathroom, she was so close, her warm and spicy scent permeating my senses. It was already all over my car and my apartment, but to have such a concentrated blast aimed at my face sent another bolt of lust to the appendage I’d recently abused. Her eyes were so dark with the doe-eyed look that reminded me she was an innocent. I backed away quickly and bumped into the wall.

“Thanks,” I muttered, side stepping and moving to the area known as my bedroom, aka the couch. I didn’t look back to check for hurt feelings, because I couldn't have withstood that type of look on her face. I flipped on the television and pretended to become engrossed in a marathon of Emeril’s cooking shows. I knew I was screwed, only not in the sense that I desperately needed. I wasn’t supposed to get involved unless it furthered the case, and so far Bella Swan had less information on her father’s murder than I did.

At work that night, I was roaming between tables to keep an eye on the patrons. Bella was off, and gave me more fodder for wet dreams when she told me she had plans to take a long bath and do her nails. It was odd to me that I didn’t even notice the nakedness of the other dancers, but Bella could slay me with something as innocent as a t-shirt and sweatpants. Concentrating on men seated around the stage, I only half-assed glanced up when the door to the back opened and Emmett emerged with two men.

What caused me a double take was the sudden loud exchange of voices, laughing as the men slapped each other on the back. I recognized them as none other than the elusive Jasper and Carlisle Cullen. The younger man was tall and lanky, with dark hair slicked back, a horseshoe mustache, and a soul patch. The older of them, who I knew to be the don, had a pleasant, almost nondescript face. If not for the money that practically glowed with its own aura, he'd be a regular handsome guy you'd never look twice at. I moved slowly closer to eavesdrop.

“Numbers is still bringin’ in the most dough, despite the few men that had to be heavily reminded to pay their shark. Ghost payroll is working like a charm; the books are sparkling clean.”

Trying not to be too obvious with my staring, I glanced over as Jasper spoke. Movement between two men nearby caught my attention, and I recognized one of them as Petey Cap; he was Cullen muscle that was using this gig as cover same as the rest of us. The stranger was arguing in a low and furious voice, and I spotted the moment he grabbed for Petey’s gun. Acting on instinct, I lunged in the direction of the trio that stood oblivious to the danger a few feet away.

“Get down!” I shouted, just before I grabbed the old man’s shoulder and took him down with me, feeling a searing pain in my arm. I rolled with a grunt when I hit the floor, then crouched over Carlisle to be sure he wasn't hit. I looked up to see that other men had gone into action to subdue the disgruntled customer. Petey was getting the riot act from Liam, and Emmett was standing hunched next to Jasper, wide-eyed as he stared at me.

And that's how I wound up with a bullet hole in my shoulder.

 
 
 
 
 
 

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