My feet seemed to move before my brain made the decision to take her away from this place. I marched down to the front of the stage and stared up at her. She looked beautiful, even surrounded by all the ugliness. Her eyes closed, she was an angel right there in front of me.
And then she opened her eyes and looked down at me in shock. She stopped dancing and yelled over the music, “Kane? What are you doing here?”
I could have explained that I felt guilty for being the reason she had to work at this shithole. I could have told her how wrong I’d been and how if she wanted a job dancing at my club, it was hers.
I didn’t, though.
Instead, I reached up and wrapped my arms around her legs, throwing her over my shoulder before I turned to walk back up the aisle to the front door. A guy with a greasy comb-over and a cigar hanging out between his yellow teeth who sat at the door simply grinned at me as Abbi kicked and screamed for me to let her go. Something told me this wasn’t the first time he’d seen a woman carried out of there.
“Kane, put me down! Why are you doing this?” she yelled as she pummeled my back with her fists.
She could scream and punch all she wanted, but I wasn’t going to put her down until I got her safely to my car. I reached the Mustang and lowered her to her feet, realizing she still wore only pasties and a G-string. As a carload of young guys spilled out into the parking lot, I quickly took off my shirt and held it out to her so she could at least cover herself.
Abbi yanked the shirt out of my grip and threw it back in my face. “What is this?”
“Put it on and get in the car.”
“You can’t just drag me out of there like a goddamned caveman. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and struggled against her fighting me to cover her with my shirt. “Abbi, I need you to put the shirt on and get into the car, please.”
Planting her hands on my chest, she tried to push me away, but I was too big for her. Frustrated, she gave up, even as she continued bitching me out. “Fine, I’ll wear the shirt, but I’m not going in that car with you. You’re kidnapping me! This is kidnapping!”
She looked adorable in my shirt angrily pointing her finger up at me, those beautiful blue eyes so full of fire. Buttoning the second and third buttons, I tried to calm her down. “I’m not kidnapping you. I just don’t want you to dance for those men. Please get in the car and I promise we can talk then.”
I didn’t know what I said to make her stop fighting me, but she sighed and climbed into the car without any more hassle. Half expecting her to jump out as I drove back to the club, I slid my arm behind her seat and held my finger on the door lock, just in case.
“Kane, you and I aren’t close enough for you to pull the knight in shining armor thing. I needed that job to make more money, so after we do whatever this is, I’m going back.”
As I drove, I tried to make sense of what I’d done. She was right—this could technically be called kidnapping. Not that I hadn’t crossed over to the wrong side of the law before, sometimes for far less honorable reasons. If this is what it took to ensure Abbi’s safety, then kidnapping was fine with me.
She didn’t see it the same way. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her flash a look of pure rage at me as I drove. I stopped at a light and turned to face her, knowing I’d probably get more of that Abbi anger. “I’m not letting you go back, so even if you try, I’ll find you.”
“Just who do you think you are? You didn’t hire me, and last I checked, my boss was Stefan, not that he’d ever be crazy enough to track me down and drag me out of a club all the way across town. I don’t need you to save me, Kane, so turn this car around and take me back.”
“No.”
Her eyes grew wide. “That’s it? No? What makes you think I’m not going to jump out of this car at the next light?”
I pulled over and jammed the car into park. Turning my body in the driver’s seat, I hung my head in frustration. This woman was the most infuriating soul I’d ever encountered.
“Abbi, you don’t belong at a place like that. I made a mistake not hiring you to dance at Club X. I’m trying to fix that mistake. That’s all this is.”
She narrowed her eyes to slits and stared at me for a long moment before she spoke again. “Nobody does anything out of the goodness of their heart. I’ve spent enough time on this earth to know that. So what do you want? I have no money. In fact, the only thing I have to trade is what you insisted I cover up in this enormous shirt of yours. So what do you want?”
“Nothing but to see you dance at my club where you won’t be touched and treated like a piece of meat.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Maybe that’s because you’re not used to people being nice to you.”
“You mean men, not people. I see what this is. You think I’m some broken bird who needs a big, strong man to save her. You think because you saw a few bruises that I can’t handle myself. Well, you’re wrong.”
I reached out and gently pressed my fingertips to the inside of her leg where the bruise had been the night I met her. “A man who cares for you wouldn’t hit you, Abbi.”
Pushing my hand away, she squeezed her legs together tightly and turned her face from me. Quietly, she said, “I’m not stupid. I know that.”
“Do you also know that not everyone wants something from you?”
She looked at me with an expression of complete disbelief. “That’s a lie. Everyone wants something. Even you, Kane. I don’t know why you’re doing this. Maybe it is to make up for your mistake. Maybe it’s something else. But whatever it is, I know this. You want something. Everyone does.”
“Right now, I want you to sit there until we get back to the club. Can you do that?”
She studied my face, likely for the answer to the question of what I really wanted from her, and then sighed. “Fine. My purse and clothes are back at The Carousel. Can we go back and get them at least?”
Sliding the car into gear, I began driving again toward my club. “I’ll make sure you get them.”
“What is that on the radio?” she asked with a tone of disgust.
“Led Zeppelin.”
“Jesus, how old are you?”
“Twenty-nine, not that my age has anything to do with knowing what good music is. How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”