Defy You
Rebel Ink #3
Tracy Lorraine
Copyright © 2020 by Tracy Lorraine
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing by Pinpoint Editing
Proofreading by Sisters Get Lit.erary
Photographer Wander Aguair
Model Zack Salaun
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Tracy Lorraine
About the Author
INKED Sneak Peek
INKED
INKED
Andy and Amelia
1
Kas
The bright lights heat my skin and cause my eyes to water as I reach the middle of the stage, ready for my first dance of the night. I can’t see how many people—men—are currently staring at me. And that’s a good thing.
As I glance down, my slutty little school uniform catches my eye and my stomach clenches.
I fucking hate this.
I should be at university right now, enjoying myself with everyone else my age, or at least spending my Saturday night out getting pissed.
But no, I’m here, selling my body to pay off debts that aren’t even fucking mine.
I blow out a breath as the beat drops, the lights get brighter, and I have no choice but to jump into action.
I shut down my reality—helped somewhat by the generous amount of vodka I had before I left the dressing room—and pretend that I’m just at home, letting go.
I push aside the fact that men probably over twice my age are currently out there, staring at me and imagining doing all sorts of disgusting things to my body.
My stomach turns over with disgust.
It’s a means to an end. It’ll just be a few months, and I can move on.
I’ve barely started when the shadow of a person right on the edge of the stage catches my eye. My heart jumps into my throat as I picture some crazy drunk guy chancing his luck.
It’s not until he’s through the spotlights that I get a good look at him.
I recognise him instantly, but his familiarity does nothing to relax me at all.
I back away from him, praying that security will appear at any moment, but my short legs with the god-awful killer heels attached are no match for him.
In seconds, he’s before me, my elbow in his grasp, steering me toward the stairs.
“Let’s go.” His voice is deep and rough. I’ve no idea if it’s caused by alcohol or pure anger.
I fight the best I can, but seeing as I’m barely five foot to his six plus, I stand little chance. I’m like a fucking rag doll as I try to force my legs to keep up with him.
When we emerge from the bright lights, as I suspected, every single person in the club is watching us with curiosity.
Where the fuck are the bouncers? I wonder once more. They’re meant to be here to protect the dancers, not allow them to be carted off by mad men.
He continues forward until he pushes the staff only door open with such force it crashes back against the wall behind.
“Go and put some fucking clothes on. You’ve got five minutes.”
“Wha—”
“Don’t,” he barks. The vicious bite to his voice has a shiver running down my spine, but it’s not the same fear-filled one that I’m used to.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I snap, turning to him and placing my hands on my hips.
I hate that I’ve got to look up at him, but being so small, it’s something that I’ve always had to put up with.
His cold, dark eyes hold mine for a beat before they drop to my body. Goosebumps erupt across my skin from just his look alone. I cross my arms over myself in an attempt to cover up, but I’m already afraid he can see too much.
“You have five minutes,” he repeats, dragging his eyes up to mine. “I’ll be right here waiting.”
“Who are you? My fucking brother?” I regret the words the second they pass my lips, because while they’re not true, in only seconds he could be on the phone with my brother.
I hate what I’m doing, but it’s a necessity. I’m making quick money the one way I know how, but what I really don’t need is the drama of Zach finding out.
“No, Tiny. I’m most definitely not that.”
I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t get a chance because another female comes running over to rip Spike a new one.
“If it were anyone other than you pulling that stunt, they’d be in the back of a police car right about now,” my boss, Dakota, seethes, stepping between the two of us and breaking whatever moment we were having.
“Five minutes, Tiny. Don’t make me wait any longer.”
My teeth grind with the nickname he gave me the first time we met. I fucking hate it.
“Stop calling me that.”
“Stop defying me.”
“Fucking pain in the arse,” I mutter as I spin on my heels to get changed. I want to continue fighting him, but it seems pretty useless. There’s no way Dakota will let me back out there after that. Hell, I’ll be lucky if I still have a bloody job.
With anger filling my veins, I storm into the dressing room, ignoring the curious looks I get from the other dancers. I pull my locker open before impatiently ripping my tiny outfit from my body.
Dragging on a pair of leggings, I pull a loose-fitting tank over my head and stuff everything else in my backpack. I’ll deal with it all later; I just need to get the hell out of here now the night has gone to shit.
With my bag over my shoulder, I march back out the way I came in less time than I was allocated. I almost turn
