Hard Core (Hard As Nails Book 3) (16 page)

“What the hell is going on?” Alyssa says, bracing her hand against her hips. Damn, she looks great standing before me in her bra and panties. And those heels? I can hardly contain myself, but I grow uncomfortable knowing everyone inside will be seeing her this way soon.

“Axel, why aren’t you inside?” she prods when I remain silent.

I sigh. “Look, Angel. You’ve gotta do what you gotta do. But that doesn’t mean I have to watch you do it.”

She scoffs and digs her heels into the gravel. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, ma’am.”

She lifts one imperious finger. “Don’t call me ma’am. And what? You can’t watch because you’ve lost respect for me?”

“No, that’s not it,” I say softly.

“Then what is it?” she demands. “You suddenly having second thoughts about having ‘more than sex’ with a stripper?”

“You want to know my problem?” I jump off the bike and land in front of her, my boots kicking against gravel. “I don’t have a problem with strippers. In fact, I think it can be incredibly empowering when a woman chooses to strip. But you? You’re not choosing this. You’re doing it because you’re desperate for cash, and I get that, but I can’t go in there and watch your soul be torn from your body.”

She shifts her weight to one foot, and her mouth moves to speak, but no words come out. Finally, she asks, “Who’s Anne?”

I actually flinch back at her question. “What?”

“Your tattoo. Forever in my heart. Anne. We’ve never talked about it.”

I swallow hard. “Lots of guys have tattoos they consider mistakes. It’s called having a past.”

“Is that tattoo one you consider a mistake?”

I press my lips together, and she nods. “You tell me you want a relationship with me,” she says.

“I do.”

“Fine then. So confide in me. Tell me something that makes me know you’re willing to be as vulnerable as you want me to be. It doesn’t even have to be about Anne. Just something, Axel.”

I frown. “How is that going to affect whether I watch you strip or not?”

“It will make me believe that no matter what I choose do, strip or not, that you’re in this. You’re into me. In a way that you’re willing to open up to me. Really open up to me in a way you’ve never opened up to
anyone
. Can you do that?”

“Wait, so you’re thinking about not stripping?”

“Axel!” she grits out.

I shake my head. “Okay, okay. Sorry.” I take a deep breath. This is it. The moment I wasn’t prepared for. When I first set out on this mission to seduce her, to win her, to love her, I knew I’d have to open up to her eventually. Just not this soon. To this degree. It’s a terrifying prospect.

As I’m forced to think back on my past, I become weak and fragile. And it fucking petrifies me for her to see me like this.

“It’s okay,” she says, as if she senses my turbulent emotions. She reaches out and takes one of my hands in hers.

But I can’t have her comforting me, or touching me. Not yet. There’s no way I’ll be able to get the words out if I’m too occupied by her touch. I won’t be able to think straight when thinking straight is already a chore at this particular moment.

“Like I said, I have a past,” I say.

“Everyone has a past.”

“It’s dark and dangerous, and I’ve lost.”

“Everyone loses.”

“I know that, but somehow I always feel like my pain is different, and so I don’t talk about it because it’s easier that way.”

She nods. “I know what I’m asking is hard. I just—”

“Wait. Don’t interrupt,” he says. “This might be long winded, so I’m going to need you to bear with me, and not ask any questions until I’m finished. Is that all right with you?”

“Of course.” She brushes her hand against my arm, but once again, I pull away, turning so that my back faces her. She reaches for my arm, wanting me to face her.

It’s next to impossible to do, but I oblige.

“Here we go.” I exhale a long breath before spilling my heart on the gravel beneath us. “The part about me being in the military, about not doing so well following orders? That’s the easiest part to tell you. I—I was only enlisted for three years, but in that time, I saw a lot suffering. A lot of death. Hard not to where war is concerned. Only I was naïve about how things worked. I figured we were soldiers fighting other soldiers. I figured if we were honorable soldiers, we’d do what we could to save the innocent, women and children, no matter what side of the fight they were on. But that wasn’t the case. They were too often considered collateral damage. And I disobeyed orders, more than once, when it came to protecting them. The last time I did, I saved a woman but ended up botching a mission. None of my comrades were hurt, thank God, but still…they could have been. I was relieved of duty.”

She nods. “If that’s the easy part, I can’t imagine… Maybe that’s enough. Maybe you can tell me the rest another day.”

I shake my head. Now that I’d started, it seemed imperative I continue. “No. I—I need to tell you. I’ve needed to tell someone for a long time. No one knows, not even my friends.”

“Your friends?”

“Yes. Their names are Street, Slate, Davis, and Jericho. We all co-own a garage called Nailed. Started it years before I joined the military. That’s where I was going to work before…”

“Before?”

I shake my head. “Sorry. Let me back up, okay?”

When she nods, I take a deep breath. This time, I have to force the words out. “When I was young, both my parents were killed in a car accident. My sister Anne was sixteen, and I was only nine. Anne did everything she could to keep us afloat, but we were both orphans with no certain future.”

She bows her head, almost ashamed that she pushed me into revealing this information about my past. It’s déjà vu, because it wasn’t that long ago when I was in her exact shoes.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“No interruptions, please.” I’m not trying to be an asshole, but the sooner I can get this out, the better. “The first few years were the hardest for her, but I was still too young to truly grasp our situation. She took care of me for years, and I never questioned how, because I had her unconditional love and I had a roof over my head. She became my mother, and I saw so much of my mom in her. In her looks and in her kindness.”

I take a short break and exhale sharply. I know I should be crying right now, and I feel as if I’m about to break. Only I haven’t cried in a decade, and I don’t know if I’m capable of it anymore. But I feel the rage and the anger, and the sadness all boiling up within me.

“I was twelve, and she was nineteen when I first found out how she was supporting us for all those years.” I clear my throat. “She was selling her body. And she was taking abuse while doing it. She tried to hide the bruises, but I saw them. I started asking questions.”

“Oh my God,” Alyssa breathes, but I pay her no mind and continue on.

“I could have done something. I should have done something.”

“You couldn’t,” she assures me, caressing me, but this time, I don’t break away from her. “You were so young.”

“When I was thirteen, she disappeared.” I grow cold, instantly transported back into the past. “We’d been staying in an abandoned warehouse, and she left to get food, only Anne never came back. They never found her.” My voice shatters, and there’s gravel in my throat. “I’ve searched for her everywhere. Used all my resources and begged, borrowed, and stole some more. It’s like she vanished into the wind. And I think about her to this day. And I’ll always blame myself.”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and I collapse my head against her shoulder. I’m still not crying, but I’m empty inside. I’m so distraught that I don’t care who sees the total breakdown in my confident demeanor. “You survived it. But how? What happened after you no longer had your sister?”

“I lived on the streets,” I continue, “until I was brought to Thornbridge Orphanage. That’s where I met my friends. The orphanage was run by a man named King.”

“What about this man?” She raises my head so we meet at eye level. “Did he do something to you?”

“He took care of me. For a price. The same price all the boys at the orphanage had to pay. King was a criminal and used us to do whatever jobs we could do—stealing, running drugs, that kind of thing. King made me the man I am today.” I chuckle uncomfortably. “For good or bad, I am who I am because of King. He gave me food and shelter. He did a lot of fucked up things, and dragged me kicking and screaming into his world, but he saved me, and for that, I’ll always feel, on some level, that I owe him something. And that’s why I’m here. Because King, King is…”

“No.” She shakes her head and takes a long, measured step back.

“King is Harvey Prince.”

She closes her eyes and her breath hitches on a sob. “Oh God. Why didn’t you tell me?” she cries.

“I was here to issue a message that the women at the club aren’t to be touched. Aren’t to be harassed or hurt. And I met you that first day, and you’re all I’ve been able to think of. I didn’t want any part of my past to touch you. But of course it did. King did. Because even though he’s the reason I met you, he’s also the reason you’re thinking of getting on that stage when you don’t really want to. And I hate that.”

She takes a deep breath. “I get it now.” She nods her head, like she’s calculating something in her mind. “It all makes sense, and I understand why you can’t go in there and watch me dance.”

“So you’re going to do it?”

She swallows hard. “It’s too late to turn back. My dad’s treatments are working. Finally. I have to make sure he keeps getting them. But I need you to be strong, because there’s no way I can get on that stage without you watching over me. You don’t have to be there every night, but I need you there tonight.”

“I don’t know if I can.” I bow my head, wishing I could be the strong man she needs right now, but at this particular moment, I feel like anything but.

“How about this? You come inside, just for tonight, you let me lock my eyes on you while I strip and afterward, I’ll ride your bike.”

“Really?” I arch my brow. There’s a kick of cock against my jeans. I imagine her straddling me on my bike, and it’s such a beautiful image that it eases the pain I’d been feeling at talking about my past. More than that, there’s the realization that after all I’d shared with her in an effort to prove how much she means to me, she’s willing to do the same by facing one of her greatest fears.

“I mean it,” she assures me and looks past me, glancing at my parked bike. “I’m not going to do it forever, but I have to pay for my dad’s bills for now. And that means I have to strip. No, I choose to strip. I hope it won’t affect how you feel about me—”

“It won’t,” I say. “But Alyssa…” I know she’ll refuse, but it’s worth mentioning once more. “Let me take care of you and your dad.”

She smiles sweetly. “You know I can’t let you do that, Axel. Right now, we’re starting our relationship on an even footing. It’s important to me it stays that way.”

I nod, not liking it, but certainly understanding it.

“We can conquer our fears together.” She caresses her hand across my cheek. “You go in there and watch over me, and when we’re done, we’ll leave here on your bike.”

“Okay.” I nod my head. “But I’m going to be speeding away from this place like crazy. As soon as your heels leave that stage, we are out of here.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Axel

Alyssa needed to use the bathroom, so I rushed toward the stage to alert Rhett and Walt that she’ll be on stage soon. But I can’t find either of them, and now it’s been five minutes since Alyssa disappeared into the lady’s room, and she’s nowhere to be seen.

I force my way through the clutter backstage, my eyes scanning for my girl. When I don’t find her, I instead opt to search for Rhett or Walt again, but there’s still no sign of them.

What the hell is going on?

I rush down the long hallway where the restrooms are located and knock against the door before pushing it open. I bend to my knee and make a quick sweep, but she’s nowhere to be found.

Part of me is hoping she saw the light of day and bolted, but the other part of me knows she’d been resolved in her decision. I retreat from the bathroom just as I hear glass shattering, and something being thrown against the wall. It seems to be coming from the first of two dressing rooms.

I burst through the door. Rhett has Alyssa cornered in the far right corner, but instead of wearing her lingerie and heels, she’s wearing street clothes with a pair of sneakers. Two strippers stampede out of the room, running past me in too-high heels.

I race toward Alyssa, ready to intervene and possibly kill Rhett.

But I’m stopped dead in my tracks when Alyssa reaches for a vase and smashes it against Rhett’s head. He stumbles backwards into a chair, knocking it over to the ground.

I charge forward and lock my arm around his throat. His flesh is tight under my skin. He claws at my arm, so I strengthen my grip until his face flushes red and just before he loses consciousness, I throw him to the ground.

He lands with a thud against the dirty floor and Alyssa stares me down, her hair tussled as if he’d dragged her by her beautiful locks. The very thought of this man, someone I trusted to watch after her, hurting Alyssa makes my blood boil with a want and a need for violence.