And the urge to vomit had disappeared as well. Now I felt like I would pass out from the lack of oxygen instead.
But better to faint than throw up in front of people.
I didn’t get a chance to show off my newly acquired move because someone grabbed me from behind and I found myself slung over a shoulder. I screamed, kicking my legs and pounding on the person’s back.
And there was the urge to vomit again. The sounds faded the farther away from the stage we got, and I lifted my head, trying to see through the curtain of hair covering my face. I struggled to free myself, not sure if I was being kidnapped again or if this was an initiation to stripping.
This better not have anything to do with Jim.
“Guess you won’t be a stripper after all,” Elle said when I passed her. She didn’t seem concerned over my current situation, so I decided not to panic. Yet.
“Put me down,” I said to whoever was carrying me.
“Fuck no,” a familiar voice responded.
“Sebastian? What are you doing?” I asked, feeling a lot less worried about being manhandled.
I was really questioning my sanity about not being scared when a member of a motorcycle club carried me off the stage. Half dressed, mind you.
“Don’t talk,” he growled.
Okay, then. Someone was grumpy. Guess my dancing was worse than I thought.
“Incoming,” he said and then knocked on a door before opening it. Shortly after, I found myself back on safe ground. I brushed my hair out of the way and locked eyes with a red-faced Sebastian.
I opened my mouth to ask him again what was going on, but when I saw his dark, angry expression, I wisely shut up. I forced a demure smile on my face instead, hoping he’d either let go of the strong and angry routine or explain what just happened.
He did neither. Instead, he stalked to my dressing table and collected my clothes. I followed, confused.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I yelled at him. “You have no right to manhandle me like that.”
“Get dressed,” he barked and held out my clothes.
There were still a few girls left, all of them staring at us. This was sure to get back to Smitty, and suddenly the only thing that mattered was that I couldn’t lose my job.
If I couldn’t strip, I had to at least keep my waitressing gig. And Sebastian had just made sure I didn’t have either.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? I need this job. My kids need me to have this job,” I yelled, waving my arms around. “You ruined everything.”
When he didn’t respond, I jerkily pulled my clothes on, the anger making my hands shake. Once my clothes were back in place and I was wearing sneakers instead of the sky-high heels I could barely walk in, I grabbed my purse and stalked past the son of a gun.
His arm shot out and stopped me. “I hope you’re on your way to my bike.”
I pulled free and stepped back. “Definitely not,” I spat out. “I need to fix what you just broke.”
He reached out for me again, but I turned and sprinted down the hallway to Smitty’s office. Once there, I knocked just as Sebastian reached my side.
“We’re going home,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
“You can go home. I’m going to talk to Smitty and pray I still have a job.”
He didn’t get a chance to answer when Smitty called out from behind the closed door for me to enter.
I did so without delay, and once inside, I pushed the door shut behind me. Sebastian followed, stopping the door from closing when his big body collided with it.
Instead of an apology, I shot him a glare. Head held high, I walked up to Smitty’s desk.
“What the hell is so important that you need to interrupt me?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the papers on his desk.
“Please don’t fire me,” I pleaded, deciding to skip reasoning and go straight to begging.
Smitty looked up, his beady eyes landing first on me, then moving to Sebastian and widening slightly.
“Why would I fire you?” he asked.
The gossip hadn’t reached him yet. I still had time to tell my side of the story. Which was probably not much better than the reality, but I had to try. Losing this job would be a colossal hit to my income.
“There was an incident,” I began.
“As long as you stay off the stage, you’re not fired,” Sebastian cut in, his voice barely controlled.
I turned to him. “Since when is that your decision?”
“It’s always been my decision,” he said, turning to my boss. “Smitty, tell her she’s not fired so we can all get on with our night.”
“You’re not fired,” he said, then looked at Sebastian. “But I wish you’d reconsider letting her on the stage.”
Sebastian took my hand in a tight hold and pulled. “Nonnegotiable. And you have to find a replacement for her tonight.”
“On such short notice? Are you insane?” Smitty sputtered.
Sebastian shot him a look that shut him up immediately, and he put his hands up in surrender. “Of course. No problem.”
Next thing I knew, I was getting dragged down the hallway by an enraged hot guy who thought he had the right to tell me what to do.
His hold wasn’t painful, but it was strong enough that there was no escaping. And instead of looking at me with concern, everyone we passed had a smirk on their face.
“Where are we going?” I huffed, my short legs working hard to keep up with Sebastian’s angry strides.
“Home.”
“But I could still help out at the bar. They could swap me and Crystal. She sometimes goes onstage. In turn, I could cover her shift.”
Instead of a response, he dragged me through the door, nodding at Kai, who was manning the entrance tonight.
“I’m off for the rest of the night. You’re in charge,” Sebastian barked on his way past.
“You got
