It didn’t make sense. Catty didn’t come from a broken home, nor did she come from poverty. How the hell did she end up in a strip club? Was it drugs? A broken heart? Something more sinister?
It didn't matter why she was there. What mattered was finding out what she knew about the missing Guardians. And if he was lucky, she might have some information on where his brother was.
He wasn’t sure whether she would even show up for their meeting.
What he did know was Catty Steele was a beautiful woman with haunted eyes and a family she didn’t seem to know anymore.
The latter, he could relate to.
Chapter Seven
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Catty hurried to the dressing room.
“Did he hurt you, Catty?” Celine wrapped her bony fingers around Catty’s arm and halted her escape. The woman might be old, but she had a grip like a vise.
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She forced her mouth into a semblance of a smile and tried to shrug out of Celine’s ironclad grip.
Celine narrowed her eyes into snakelike slits and released her hold. “Don’t sound fine. Don’t look fine either. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
No ghost, but she did catch a glimpse of her past.
“I’m okay. Really.” Her voice cracked, betraying her despite the heavy smile she held in place.
“You’re not on your game tonight, girl.” Celine let go of her arm and pulled out another cigarette she kept tucked behind her ear. Sticking the slender stick in her mouth, she lit up and took a long pull.
Catty squinted as the woman blew a long stream of gray smoke in her direction. She fought the urge to fan the smoke. She didn’t need to give the woman another reason not to like her.
Celine didn’t like anyone, but once you got on her bad side, she made life a living hell.
“Look at you, dark circles under your eyes and hands shaking like a leaf. I knew you needed a night off.” She took another long drag, angled her head away from Catty, and blew out a stream of smoke.
So why did you call me in?
Celine’s eyes softened, and for once she gave Catty a look of pity.
It was the closest thing to a smile she’d ever received.
“The boss can’t make money when all the pussy looks like they’ve been beat to shit.” Celine rubbed her brow with her thumb while she clasped the cigarette between two fingers.
“I need to get ready for my next dance.” Catty clenched her jaw.
Celine leaned into her personal space. “Your eyes are looking mighty red. Bet you’re getting pinkeye.” She uttered a curse. “Work until midnight. Then you’re off. You’ve got the next three days off. I need you rested and in good shape when you get back.” Celine ran her astute gaze up and down her like she was assessing a side of beef.
“Thanks.” It wasn’t an olive branch, but she’d take what she could get from the old bat.
She dodged the other strippers as she made her way back to her seat in front of the vanity table. The first time she’d sat at the little table with the mirror lined with large white bulbs, she’d pretended she was a famous model getting ready to walk down the runway.
She’d held onto the delusion until a few months in, when she kept getting her ass smacked or her boob grabbed by drunk patrons.
Reality set in the night she was approached in the parking lot and offered twenty bucks for a blow job. She was nothing more than a piece of pretty ass for men to look at.
She’d been a fool to believe she was valued.
To them, she was a means to an end. Not even a person.
And now, having someone here in New Orleans who knew her family was another issue. While Arkansas and Louisiana weren’t far apart, wolves tended to stick within the boundaries of their state. When she’d first left Arkansas for NOLA, she’d worried her family would find her. But after a while it became clear they had no interest in looking for her. It should have made her relax, but all it did was create a fissure in her heart.
Now a stranger in black leather showed up and wanted to talk to her. And who the hell wears leather in the middle of summer in New Orleans?
If she didn’t show, he could track her down.
Unease snaked up her body as she stared at her reflection. She should have left this morning. She should have taken what little money she had, bought a bus ticket, and gotten the hell out of this cursed place. But she couldn’t. She had to have a plan and money before she made another impatient move. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake of running off somewhere with no money, no idea how to support herself, and no place to live.
Those days were over. She needed a plan before she left.
Fear tightened its fingers around her heart.