Chapter 2 Dancing For Danger

“Well fuuuck me,” Marcus slurred in a thick drunken voice. “If it isn't the Raven herself in the flesh. Told Tommy I wanted the best, and damn if he didn’t deliver.”

Kira closed the door behind her with a soft click. She kept her face neutral…professional, distant. “Private dance is fifty up front. House rules.”

Marcus laughed loudly, then dug into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled wad of bills, tossing them onto the table without counting. They scattered like dead leaves…twenties mostly, with a few fifties mixed in. Way more than enough.

“There. Happy now, princess?”

She stepped forward, bending smoothly to gather the money. Her fingers worked quickly, counting as she tucked it into the small purse at her hip. Enough for rent, groceries, maybe even a little extra. Enough to make tonight worth the nausea that was crawling up her throat.

Kira straightened, hit the remote for the room’s speaker, and a slow, grinding beat leaked out…something with heavy bass and breathy vocals. She moved into the center of the small space where the pole was, keeping the table between them.

“No touching,” she said clearly, looking firmly into his eyes. “Club rules. You break them, I walk.”

Marcus leaned back with his legs spread wide, still grinning like a lunatic. “Yeah, yeah. Heard it before. Just dance for me, baby.”

She started with slow circles at first, rolling her hips and touching herself in the most sensual parts that really pleased private customers. She kept her gaze just past his shoulder, unfocused and simply letting muscle memory take over. The routine was second nature already…dip, rise, turn, arch.

Marcus watched with hungry eyes, and his breathing grew heavier with each second, clearly audible over the music.

“Goddamn,” he muttered. “Look at you, gorgeous. Prancing around like you’re too good for this place.”

Kira ignored him, spinning so her back faced him, and bending forward slightly to give him the view he’d paid for. The bikini bottoms rode up as she moved, and his groan was immediate as his cock bulged viciously.

“Come closer,” he said, his voice becoming rougher now. “Lemme see that ass up close.”

She stayed where she was, shifting sideways, and using the pole for leverage. One leg hooked high, body inverting slowly. The position was meant to put distance between them while still delivering what he wanted.

Marcus shifted restlessly on the couch, hand dropping to his crotch as he adjusted himself openly. “Fuck the rules. Come here.”

“No touching,” she repeated in a firm voice.

He laughed again, but there was a dangerous edge to it now. “You think you’re better than me, huh? Teasing all night on stage, and shaking that pussy for everyone. Bet you love it.”

Kira landed lightly, turning to face him again. She kept on moving…slow grinds, hands cupping her breasts briefly before sliding down her stomach. The money was already in her purse. She just had to ride out the song and get the hell out.

Marcus’s hand moved faster at his crotch. “Wanna fuck you so bad,” he muttered. “Bet you’re tight. Bet you’d scream real pretty.”

Kira felt like throwing up, but she didn’t stop. Just a few more minutes.

Then Marcus began to fumble with his belt. The clink of metal was unmistakable, and Kira’s eyes snapped to him as he roughly pulled his zipper down, and pulled out his cock with a drunken grunt. It dangled half hard in his fist, already leaking at the tip.

“I’ll pay anything,” he slurred, stroking himself lazily. “Anything you want, Baby doll. Just get on your knees and suck it. Be a good girl for me, will you?”

Kira froze in place while the music kept on playing, oblivious to the madness going on.

Marcus waved a handful of bills with his free hand. “Come on. Don’t act like you haven’t done it before. Everyone knows dancers like you…”

She didn't let him finish before she turned and headed for the door, but that one single move triggered something in him.

Marcus surged up from the couch with surprising speed for someone so drunk, charging wildly across the small space. His hand clamped around her upper arm, pulling her back with enough force to make her stumble. Before she could twist free from his heavy grip, his other arm snaked around her from behind and grabbed her breast, squeezing viciously through the bikini.

Pain exploded in her head as she struggled against him, but he held on tight and pressed his hardened cock tighter against her ass.

“Fucking tease,” he snarled in her ear with his breath hot and sour with whiskey. “You think you can just walk away after getting me hard? I paid…”

Desperation and anger unleashed the pure animal rage in Kira, and she reacted without thinking.

Her eyes landed on the champagne bottle on the table…close enough. She forced herself away from him with a desperate push, grabbing the bottle by the neck and swinging it wildly at him.

The bottle connected heavily with the side of his head, then exploded with a loud bang as shards of glass and champagne sprayed across the room. Marcus made a strangled sound, something between a grunt and a gasp, then he crumpled to the floor like a stuffed toy.

Blood immediately gathered under his skull.

Kira stumbled back in horror, breathing heavily while still clutching the broken bottle neck in her shaking hand. She waited for any sign of movement, but Marcus didn’t move.

There was a long silence, and the only sound she could hear was the muffled thump of music from the main floor and her own ragged breathing.

Then the door banged open.

Tommy burst in first with his face purple with fury, followed by Lola…one of the older dancers who was still in her robe from her own set. They took in the scene immediately…Marcus unconscious and bleeding on the floor, Kira backed into the corner with the broken bottle raised like a weapon and her eyes wild with terror.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Raven!” Tommy roared. “What the hell did you do?”

Lola’s eyes went from the angry Marcus to Kira, softening with compassion. “You okay, baby?”

Kira couldn’t answer. Her throat was too tight. The bottle neck slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.

Tommy knelt beside Marcus, pressing two fingers to his neck. “He’s still breathing. Out cold, but breathing.” He looked up at Kira, glaring savagely. “Don’t you know who Marcus is now? He’s now one of the Serpents. Reaper’s boy.”

Kira found her voice through the terror, though it came out small. “He grabbed me. Wouldn’t let go.”

Tommy stood, wiping his hands on his pants like he could wipe away the mess. “Doesn’t matter, Raven. You just assaulted a patched member’s prospect. You think they’re gonna care about your side of the story?”

Lola stepped closer, reaching out but not quite touching Kira’s arm. “She’s bleeding, Tommy. Look…he bruised her.”

Tommy waved her off. “Get her out of here and clean this up before someone else sees.” Then he glared at Kira again. “You’re done, Raven. Pack your shit and get gone. Don’t ever come back.”

Kira didn’t argue.

She let Lola guide her out of the room, past the staring faces of other dancers gathering in the hallway. Her legs felt like water, but she kept moving.

In the dressing room, she changed back into her jeans, hoodie, and sneakers. The money from Marcus went into her bra, while Lola hovered nearby, wringing her hands.

“You gotta get out of town, honey. If Reaper finds out…”

“I know,” Kira muttered.