Page 19 of Conor
Conor’s knuckles are white as he drives to the club, and any connection we might have shared earlier is gone now. Tension bleeds into his body with every second we spend together, and I don’t feel like I can breathe again until we finally pull into the parking lot of Sláinte and open the doors.
We are both absent of words as we walk inside together, and when I look at him, he refuses to return the gesture. Instead, he disappears into the void of the club while I stand there feeling wrung out and confused.
“There ye are.” Crow appears out of nowhere, scaring the hell out of me. He looks at me expectantly, and I swallow hard, wondering what it is he wants. I can barely look at him because I’m certain he’ll be able to figure out what we did.
“Feeling better?” he asks.
I stare blankly, uncertain what he means. He seems annoyed with me when I don’t respond and looks at me as if I can’t comprehend basic English.
“Conor said ye had one hell of a bug.” He arches a brow. “I just need to be sure ye aren’t getting the other girls sick if that’s the case.”
My mouth feels like sandpaper as I process his words. Conor told me Crow gave me the night off last night, but obviously that was a bullshit lie. What I can’t figure out is why he would say that. But the last thing I want to do is give Crow any more doubts about my character. If Conor told him I was sick, then I was sick.
“I’m much better.” I force a smile. “It was just a quick bug.”
Crow crosses his arms and shakes his head. “I have to tell ye, so far ye aren’t making a real big impression on me. Ye beg me for the job and then call in sick the second day. I hope this isn’t going to be a regular occurrence.”
“It won’t,” I promise.
“Alright then, I’ll leave ye to it. Ye’re on in twenty, so best be getting ready. And for the record, ye need to be here a little earlier so you can give yourself time to prepare.”
He retreats down the hall and I gulp in a few large breaths as I venture in the direction of the dressing rooms. I hate this constant edginess inside me and I wonder if it will ever go away.
I attempt to focus on the task of getting ready, but I’m even more of a mess than usual. It’s been a crazy day. One surreal event after another. This afternoon, I got married. And now, I’m at a strip club getting ready to take off my clothes for the world to see. Not exactly a fairytale ending.
Tears prick my eyes, and I wave my hands in front of my face, hoping they don’t ruin my makeup. I told myself I could do this. I told myself that I could dance naked as long as it put some desperately needed cash in my pocket. I swore that I would do anything to earn money if it meant getting Archer out of this city safely.
The first time I danced, I was so high on adrenaline and the simple prospect of a job, it seemed like I could do anything. But now I’m keenly aware that I’m married to one of these guys. A truth that’s going to come out sooner or later. And when it does, all his friends will have seen me naked. It makes my stomach flip. It makes me want to vomit.
The fact that Conor lied to keep me away from here keeps playing on repeat through my mind. There must have been a reason. He must have felt the same way too. That’s the only plausible explanation for his surly behavior the entire way over. But if he didn’t want me dancing tonight, he didn’t say so. Not in words, anyway.
It’s not like it matters. Regardless of what happened today, I need this job and the money it brings in. I have to go out on that stage and shake my ass and forget about the fact that I have a warm home and food in my belly for now. In the grand scheme of things, this situation is only temporary. My longevity lies in making money and planning my escape.
With that thought at the forefront of my mind, I force one platformed heel in front of the other when my name is called. But I’m totally off my game tonight, and I don’t feel sexy at all. I’m too stiff and trying to dance organically isn’t working. Even if I somehow manage to make it through the whole set, Crow will probably fire me for scaring customers away.
The intro is long, but the first two minutes pass in a blur of uncoordinated chaos. The intensity of the stage lights makes it difficult, but I can still make out Conor’s form in the back watching me from the shadows. I wish that I could see his face while the other men chant for me to take it all off.
The worst thing is there’s a part of me that wishes he would save me from this too. It’s silly and stupid and entirely impractical to want for such things. He isn’t my prince charming and I can’t allow hope to bloom where none exists. I’m nothing to Conor. We are married in name only, and he won’t hesitate to kill me just like he threatened if I step outside of the invisible boundaries.
My throat works to hold back too many emotions as I untie the strings of my bikini top. The crowd gets louder as they shout encouragement, and the shadow I was focused on has disappeared into the fray. I’m on my own now. As alone as I’ve ever been.
I focus on Archer and the dream I’ve always had. Just me, and him, and the cape. Someday, this will be a distant memory while we build sandcastles by the sea. That’s what I tell myself as I allow my top to drop to the floor beneath me.
My stomach is a riot of nerves, and then without warning, there’s a riot around me. Someone shouts something and the music stutters before two huge hands grab me from behind and yank me back into the shadows, tossing a coat over my body.
“Conor?” I blink.
“For fucks sake.” He stares at me like he doesn’t know what he’s doing either. “This is over. I won’t have my wife making a mockery of herself up on stage like this. It’s done.”
Before I have a chance to answer, our night gets a whole lot worse. Because now Crow is here, stage side, looking up at Conor like he’s lost his fucking mind.
“Would ye care to tell me what the bleeding hell is going on here?”
We follow Crow down the hall and into his office where he tells some of the other lads to get the feck out. They offer me a pitiful look before they scramble, and Crow instructs me to take a seat across from his desk before turning to Ivy. “You can wait in the hall.”
“No.” I look him dead in the eye. “She stays in here with me.”
He stares at me like I’ve gone mad, and I suppose I have, talking to him that way. But I don’t trust having Ivy out of my sight for a second right now. I need his word that no harm will come to her, and in the meantime, I need her where I can see her, so she doesn’t try to run off on me.
