Elisabeth
"Mmm." I moan, resting my forehead against the cool tile of the shower. Hot water beats down onto my back as the room fills with steam.
It's been weeks since I've had a shower as hot as this, and even though it nearly burns my skin, I soak it all up. Who knows when the next one will be?
Turns out getting an apartment is the easy part. I was on top of the world when I found my place, but then I realized you have to pay for things like electricity and food and water. With my first three checks going towards rent, there wasn't much room for anything else.
Thank God for Nancy. If she didn't let me borrow her key to use the club after my shift a few times a week, I'd be completely out of luck. Dancers are never allowed to use the client locker room, but Nancy's kind of taken me under her wing and she offered up the showers at least until I can get the money together to pay my utilities.
I kind of like the club this time of night anyway. No one else is here, and it's quiet. Peaceful, almost. It's the only time of day that it is. Most of the time, these walls are filled with all kinds of lonely, desperate men dropping all kinds of money for a show.
If you've got a halfway decent set of tits, and a nice lingerie set to show them off, the job pretty much works itself.
I moan again. I hate to be dramatic, but this shower is life changing. It's better than any orgasm I've ever had.
The showers in here are what dreams are made of. Six different shower heads, aromatherapy steam, and bigger than my entire apartment.
I'm so lost in bliss that I don't notice the door to the locker room open. I don't notice the footsteps. The dark, shadowy figure on the other side of the foggy glass.
It's not until Jax clears his throat that I realize he's standing there. A steely, pointed scowl spreads across his face, and folded riding over his chest. He isn't happy at all. Despite the scalding water, the icy look in his eye spreads a chill across my body.
He reaches for the towel hanging from the hook and holds it out to me.
"Out. Now."
I crack the shower door open, snatching the towel out of hood hands and shielding my body as best I can.
"Get dressed. I'll be waiting in the front."
His tone hollows out my stomach as I nod.
Shit. Not only am I about to lose my job, I might cost Nancy hers in the process. As quickly as I can, I get dressed, rehearsing the speech that I'm about to give Jax.
I'm sure nothing I say can make it any better at this point, especially considering this is strike three in as many weeks for me. Now, not only will I not have hot water, but I won't even have an apartment because there's no way I can afford to live in the city without this job.
When I get out into the main area, I see Jax sitting at the bar. He's got a couple glasses of scotch in front of him and a gun sitting on the counter.
He glances up when he hears me coming, and I jump to speak first.
"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were here. Usually, no one else is."
The corner of his lips turn up into a smirk, and I immediately know I fucked up.
"Usually." He repeats. "How often do you use my club for your own pleasure?"
"Not often, I promise." I say. "Only once or twice."
"Who gave you a key?"
I bite my lip, not wanting to get Nancy in any trouble. "I don't have a key."
Jax's stare locks with mine, pressing the glass to his lips as he lets my words simmer. "Do you know what I do for a living, Elisabeth? Who I am?"
I nod timidly.
"Then you know that my entire life depends on my ability to read people. To know when they're lying to me. So I'm going to give you one more chance to answer that question. Who gave you a key?"
I grimace, ready to throw up. "Nancy lets me borrow hers sometimes. But only because she was trying to help me. I couldn't afford to pay my water bill this month, so they turned it off. When I told her, she offered to let me shower here. Just until I got it turned back on."
He spins the gun in front of him as if he's playing a game of spin-the bottle.
My stomach lurches, memories of foster father number two eating their way into my mind. He always liked to remind me how easy it would be to make me disappear, just like Jax is now. It should scare me, but all it does is strike a defensive nerve.
"And the moaning?"
I see exactly where he's headed with this, and I don't like it. "Well, it certainly wasn't what you're thinking. And that's a little presumptuous, don't you think?" I bite back.
"You're got quite the mouth on you." He chuckles. "Most people wouldn't dream of speaking to me that way. Especially after I just caught them in such a compromising position."
Grabbing his glass, I take a drink of his scotch. "You know, Jax, there is one thing you should know about me. There isn't much you can do to me that I haven't already seen, so go ahead." I nod toward the gun. "Hit me with it. Hold it against my head and spin the barrel. Do your worst."
Jax's face twists. He's confused as he looks down at the gun. "You... you think I was going to... Jesus, Elisabeth. This isn't for you. I was preparing for a meeting when I heard you in the locker room."
I press my lips together.
"You know if you ever need to talk..."
"I don't." I snap.
Jax clenches his jaw. "Fine. Then get out of here. I'm expecting some guests and I don't need the distraction. And just so we're clear, the rules apply to everyone. No personal use of the club. Period."
"Yes, sir." I nod, grabbing my bag and hurrying toward the door. I can't get out of here fast enough.
"Oh, and Elisabeth?"
I turn to face him.
"You can expect your next check to show your hourly rate doubled."
"What?" My voice breaks. "Why?"
"I'm not doing you any favors. You've proven yourself the last few weeks and you're an asset to the club. And I can't have my star dancer slumming it. Find yourself nicer apartment."
____________
After Jax left last night, I stayed up for most of the night searching through the case files to see if there was something, anything at all that I could use to get Arias out of jail. The sooner I could magian that, the sooner I could put all of this behind me and move on.
With Jax out of the picture, things would surely settle, wouldn't they?
Finally, I came across one interesting detail. Arias mentioned a tire iron, but the report clearly stated that there was no weapon found on the scene and the coroner's report makes no mention of it either. in fact, it clearly states that there were handprints and finger markings all over her indicating that the person who did this used their hands.
I wasn't sure it was anything, but it was worth looking into.
I'd spent most of the day at the bakery, but as soon as I got a break, I called Jax from the burner phone.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's... me."
Jax lets out a sharp laugh. "Yeah, I know that, Lizzie. You're the only one who calls me from the burner."
"Right." I rub my forehead, heat rising to my cheeks. Why the hell do I let him fluster me this way? "Um, I just wanted to let you know I think I might have found something."
"Yeah?"
"It could be nothing, but Arias mentioned using a tire iron." My heart skips as the words come out of my mouth. "I can't find anything at all in the reports to corroborate that."
"That's great, Lizzie. Nice work." He sounds distracted, and it hurts me more than it should.
"Do you want to come by again tonight and we can..."
He cuts me off, "Look Lizzie, I don't want to worry you, but the Bruno Costas got wind of your visit to Arias. We're on their radar now so I think we should lay low for awhile. We can't take the chance of being seen together, especially not now when you think you have something we can use."
My stomach turns. I knew this was coming, but it still makes me uneasy. Things get complicated and even more dangerous now that the Costas family knows I'm involving myself. "Should I be worried?"
"No." He assures me. "I'm working on a security team for you right now. They'll be discreet but they'll always be around, just in case. They'll be in place by this afternoon."
"Okay." I nod, my hands are shaky. "So I guess we'll just talk later"
"I'll check in when I can."
"Okay. Bye Jax."
"Bye Lizzie."
Right as we hang up, the front door chimes. I compose myself as best I can and turn.
When I see three men walk through the front door, all the blood runs cold in my veins. I know exactly who I'm looking at.
Bruno Costas is standing in my bakery, holding a baseball bat.