Page 4 of A Love Like Venom
You only come here if you’re asking for trouble.
As for me?
Well, desperate times call for desperate measures.
The money that pours in and out of this place is exceptional. Working as a barmaid the cash flow is phenomenal.
I am by no means a materialistic girl.
I grew up in a trailer park. For most of my younger years I shared a tiny bedroom with my sister. When my sister decided to break my heart, my new room became the living room. I have been sleeping on that old worn ripped sofa for years. Sleep would be too kind of a word. Any time mother had a man over I stayed up all night. Or I fell asleep in the arms of a boy who promised he would never leave me.
Stop. I can’t go down that path again. It’s in the past. He moved on. So can you.
Shaking my head softly I take in a deep breath and exhale. I can’t change my past. I can’t erase the things that have been done. Nor can I magically turn back time and rewrite history.
All I can do is live in the present and prepare for the future.
And my future is getting the hell out of this town and finding a place to call home.
That’s why I work here. This is all saving up for my dream of finally escaping this town.
A fresh start.
A new beginning.
“He’s going to ask you again tonight,” Grace tells me as she leans against the bar. Her manicured hands are placed on her hips. She’s wearing black hot leather shorts with fishnet tights. Her cleavage pops out of her tight V-neck. To finish the ensemble she has thigh high stiletto black boots.
And I’m wearing the exact same thing.
The uniform comes with its pros and cons. Some nights one outweighs the other.
But no one looks as sinfully tempting as Gracie Mae. The girl just has it. And when you have it, flaunt it.
Whereas the uniform looks as if it was made for her, I look like someone in a pathetic Halloween costume.
Yet somehow, I’ve managed to warrant the attention of the club’s owners right hand man. As his right-hand man, he may as well be the owner. What he says is just as influential.
That’s what happens when you’re The Vice President of The Crowned Devils.
The very same man who wants my attention.
If I had known The Crowned Devils MC owned this club, I wouldn’t have applied. I may be desperate, but I am notthatdesperate.
I had known the club was bad news. I knew it was seedy and riddled with crime. Where in this god forsaken town isn’t there? Sure, I heard this place might be a little bit darker than the others.
Except when I signed up, I had no clue I was signing my very own death wish.
That’s the catch with The Crowned Devils. Once you enter you can never leave. It’s like their very own version of Hell.
A Hell I plan on escaping. That plan was going smoothly, too. All until The Vice President decided to turn those eyes on me.
He’s already ruining my plans. It’s going to be harder to escape now.
Tossing my hair over my shoulder I pin Grace with a look of boredom. “And you know what the answer will be.”
No.
The answer is always fuckingno.
