Page 30 of The Enforcer’s Revenge (Untamed Hearts #4)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“ H ow much?” Tino asked the woman at the door and made sure he spoke slowly, enunciating the words like they were foreign on his tongue.

“Twenty each.” The hostess was pretty, with her long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail.

She wore a red corset and black skirt, fully dressed for her work in front of the register. Tino gave her a wide smile and pulled his money clip out of his pocket. “You’re going to dance for me?”

“I’m almost disappointed to say no.” She tilted her head and leaned past the high table she was sitting behind to get a better look at Tino and Nova standing there. “Where are y’all from?”

“ Sicilia .” Tino paused and glanced back to Nova, feigning confusion. “Sicily. Italy.”

“Oh.” Her blue eyes grew wide. “Wow. Are you having fun?”

“Sì, what’s not to like?” Tino started to thumb through the massive stack of hundreds he deliberately put in his pocket. He caught the hostess eyeing it as he turned to Nova and said in Italian, “Pull out your money clip.”

Nova gave him an annoyed look and held up his hands. He was a reluctant participant in this ruse at best and, in his way of playing along, asked in Sicilian, “ Picchì? ”

“’Cause I fucking said so, that’s why,” Tino growled at Nova before he turned back to the hostess with a smile. “ Mi dispiace . I don’t have the right one. Hold on. My brother,” he gestured to Nova, “he has it.”

“You know I have change, right?” She laughed as Nova pulled the gold clip off his roll of cash and unfolded the money to get to the twenties. “How long are you fellas in town?”

“Eh, um, two…” Tino paused, like he was looking for the right word. “Two weeks.”

“No kidding? What’re you going to do in Tampa for two whole weeks?”

“Watch this. I’m going to get a date,” Tino said in Italian and hit Nova’s shoulder. Then, he gave the hostess another smile. “ Sei bellissima . You’re beautiful.”

Tino kissed her hand, and she blushed, looking truly pleased. “Thank you.”

“I could stand here.” Tino winked as he kept her hand in his. “All night… only to see you.”

“Minchia.” Nova put two twenties down on the table between them. “ Quaranta. ”

“It’s forty, yes?” Tino translated for him as he dropped her hand. “He doesn’t know English so well. I go to università back home.”

“University?” she asked curiously. “You’re in college?”

“It’s not so easy for him,” Tino explained to her with a wince. “He does, um, the family business for our father.”

Nova shook his head. “ Cristo Santo .”

“Listen, I’m not supposed to do this.” The hostess leaned closer to Tino, speaking in a soft, sexy voice.

“But if you wanted someone to show you the real Tampa while you’re here, I could give you a tour.

” She ripped off a corner of a piece of paper and wrote on it.

Then she reached over, grabbed Tino’s hand, and placed the paper in his open palm. “I’m Heather.”

Tino grinned. “I’m Ash.”

“Don’t fall in love in there.” Heather pouted. “’Cause you are yummy, Ash.”

Tino held the paper to his heart. “I’ll keep it safe.”

Nova grunted in disgust next to him.

“I’ve got a girl for your brother,” Heather said conspiratorially. “She’ll cheer him up.”

Tino snorted at that. “That’s not… so easy. He’s not a normal Siciliano. Very serious. All work. No fun.”

“Oh, you wait. She’s new, and we already have guys showing up every night just to see her. Seriously, she’s amazing. He’ll like her.” Heather sounded really enthusiastic about it, like she was a fan. “And she speaks Italian, too.”

“Ah.” Tino tilted his head, giving Nova a knowing look as he said in Italian, “How good am I at this?”

“You just shit on our entire culture,” Nova reminded him. “And your accent is horrible. It’s all over the place.”

“Says you.” He held up the number, knowing it looked like he was bragging about getting it, which was exactly what a twenty-something Siciliano tourist would do.

“I think she likes my accent. I’m pretty sure it does it for her,” he pointed out before he turned to Heather and switched back to English. “He’d like to see your friend.”

“Okay, I think she’s coming up next,” Heather said quickly.

Tino kissed her hand once more. “Grazie.”

When they turned to walk into the club, Nova looked to him and asked, “Ash?”

“What’s wrong with Ash?”

“Like Ash from Pokémon?”

“Yeah,” Tino agreed. “Do you have a problem with Pokémon now?”

Nova was quiet for a moment before he said, “It’s not even Italian.”

“She doesn’t fucking know that,” Tino said dismissively as he pulled open the door. “It’s all about the delivery.”

All the other issues had been hitting Tino one after another, and he forgot how much he fucking hated strip clubs until they were inside.

It wasn’t the dark lighting or the throb of blatantly sexual music because he loved club culture as much as just about anyone.

It was the other stuff. This was one of those all-nude strip clubs Tampa was famous for, and the mix of dressed men and fully naked women tossed Tino back to a time he tried very hard to forget.

The gut-wrenching thing was that a part of him instinctively looked for Lola and the rest of his friends.

He had this deep, painful hole in his stomach as the very damaged Tino from his youth scanned the crowd with a rush of raw panic.

They couldn’t play the game right if they weren’t together. They couldn’t protect each other.

What if a bad one found her?

What if one found him?

Except there was no Lola.

There was no saving her.

This wasn’t the first strip club he’d been in while working, but the other times he was able to tell himself Lola was happy and free of the game when he found himself looking for her and the others in his crew on instinct because it was the only safety net any of them had back then—each other.

This time, it felt as though every ounce of joy had been sucked out of his world, like every sex slave’s story, including his, was going to end gutted, naked, and tragic.

There was no saving any of them.

Tino stood there looking at the beautiful, naked women walking around like it was normal and completely lost his cool. He could physically feel all the color drain from his face, and for one horrible moment, he thought he might pass out in the middle of this club—that was how sick he got.

He had no idea how fucking violent his PTSD really was until he was looking down the barrel at it. He must’ve been obvious, too.

“We can leave,” Nova said in hushed Italian against Tino’s ear. “I’ll come back by myself.”

Tino was just about to agree.

He knew he was a liability, and that was the last thing they could afford. Then the music ended, and the DJ’s voice came over the surround-sound speakers.

“A little sugar with a lot of spice. She’s naughty and nice. Get your money out and welcome Calypso to the stage!”

Some of the men whistled as the low pulse of music started playing. It was different than typical strip club music, an Enigma mix that was slower and much more seductive. It also required quite a bit more skill to pull off. A slow song meant the performance better be pretty fucking captivating.

Tino turned, seeing a stream of mist flood off the stage, and he glanced away rather than watch when he lost his nerve.

“Cazzo,” Nova grunted next to him.

He sounded equally enthralled and disgusted with himself, like he wanted to look away but couldn’t.

That was different.

Nova didn’t lose his game too often, especially for something as simple as looks, but then this was no ordinary stripper. Tino knew it because he knew who that woman was. Even with the stage name, it was obvious.

He didn’t have to watch.

Nova’s reaction said it all.

If she threw him off, these motherfuckers stood no chance.

Tino glanced back to the woman they both knew was Carmen. Arms folded, annoyed, he reluctantly watched what every other man felt lucky to see.

Tino flat-out hated pole dancing.

He would bite off his own tongue before he told Nova why, so he just stood there, forcing himself to see it. He was used to watching it done by soul-dead participants, but Calypso was into it.

Big time.

And that changed the whole fucking game.

Her hair was wild, with curls that framed her face in a way Lola would’ve never done. It was shorter than Lola’s too, well above her shoulders, but that wasn’t the shocking part.

Carmen was blonde.

Natural blonde .

More honey in hue instead of platinum like her father, but it was still clear where she got it.

Tino wanted to hate it, but the effect was startling because Carmen was stunningly gorgeous.

Thicker than Lola had been, Florida tan, with all those soft, pretty curves rather than runway-slender like Lola.

If it wasn’t for her hair, she’d actually look more Dominican—but there it was.

She didn’t even fucking dye it, which was crazy.

Worse, she had Lola’s eyes, that hauntingly ethereal gaze that stood out under the stage lights, making it very hard for most men to look away from her.

Tino could barely watch for the exact same reason.

She was wearing one of those form-fitting, thin, almost see-through dresses that were common for strippers.

The simple blue cotton stretched across full tits, displaying tight nipples before she grabbed the poll, sliding down, showing off a full, firm ass that was without a doubt her best asset, and that was saying something.

The men all shouted because she did have a great ass, and when she turned back around, Tino finally accepted why his mind blanked the moment Carmen rose out of that mist. He didn’t want to see this, not in person, and certainly not while holding the bomb he was about to help Nova drop.

Watching her now, with the haunting, sexual music playing—he got it. All the rumors. All the drama.

She was gorgeous.

And confident.

And mysterious.