Read Online Little Light of Mine (Club Decadence) by Maddie Taylor - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maddie Taylor
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before you do it, Dex. You need to control your shit, man.”
“I stopped taking orders from both of you when I was discharged. Let me by.”
Joanna, Master Peter and Regan appeared before him suddenly. “Dex, please go easy on her. She’s had a rough time lately.” Joanna pleaded.
“Her daddy had a stroke, Dex. She came back to help her mama take care of him.” Regan added.
Dex let that news sink in for a second. It was unfortunate but it didn't matter to him. Shit happens and you deal with it. It didn’t mean you could run away and hide for two years.
“Dex, give her a chance to explain.” Joanna put her hand on his steely arm.
“Sorry, Jo. She had her chance. I’ve moved on and she isn’t dragging me back into her shit!”
“You haven’t moved on, Dex.” Regan put her hand on his other arm and squeezed. “She hasn’t either. She’s alone. You both are.”
Dex frowned at both women then raised his gaze to the men who stood at their backs. “Control your subs gentlemen; they are both very close to violating club rules. With the mood I’m in it wouldn’t take much for me to order a public punishment for their infractions.” Shrugging off their hands, he moved around the well-meaning group to go back stage and confront his former fiancée. He knew he was acting like an ass to his friends and their subs but he’d deal with the aftermath later. He could only handle one disaster at a time.
Elena waited in her dressing room, if you could call it that. It was more like a closet, made up of paper-thin walls, a flimsy door and a mobile partition. In the crowded backstage area that she shared with her band, it granted only a modicum of privacy for a wardrobe change but not much else. Still, she paced the cramped cluttered area all the while wringing her hands. Any minute now she would face Hurricane Dex who would rain down a storm of monumental proportions. She had prepared herself for this, knowing when she asked to work in his club that this confrontation was inevitable.
The door slammed back on its hinges as Dex entered the room. The mask was gone and his emotions were revealed clearly on his face - rage, indignation, and hostility. He wasted no time demonstrating that fact. “You can finish the night and then I want you gone. Don’t come back. Don’t contact my partners and worm your way back in here. Your run at The Club is over.” This was said in a cold, steely voice she barely recognized.
“Sean said you had moved on. I guess he was wrong. I’m so sorry.”
“Moved on? That’s priceless. What the hell does that mean anyway? How do you move on from a relationship that ended with a Dear John letter? It wasn’t even a letter but a goddamned email! You don’t move on from being treated like that. That kind of betrayal burns deep in your gut for a long damn time.”
Tears threatened. She hadn’t cried in over a year having learned to conquer her emotions and suppress them. They didn’t accomplish anything anyway, just made you appear weak.
“Honestly, Dex. I didn’t mean to hurt you or reject you. I was dealing with some major stuff.”
“Really, and I wasn’t?” The disdain practically dripped from his words. “I guess my “stuff” didn’t matter. It was all about you. You never gave me the opportunity to help you deal with your stuff, major or otherwise. We were engaged, Elena. We also had a contract. You were supposed to be open and honest with me, but you lied. You sent me back to war thinking we were good, that everything was going to be OK, that we were still getting married.”
What did she say to that other than she was sorry? Her breathing was erratic as she tried to keep the tears at bay as the pain of his words ripped through her. No way had he moved on. He was heartbroken and bitter, but could she really blame him? She had brutally dumped
“I stopped taking orders from both of you when I was discharged. Let me by.”
Joanna, Master Peter and Regan appeared before him suddenly. “Dex, please go easy on her. She’s had a rough time lately.” Joanna pleaded.
“Her daddy had a stroke, Dex. She came back to help her mama take care of him.” Regan added.
Dex let that news sink in for a second. It was unfortunate but it didn't matter to him. Shit happens and you deal with it. It didn’t mean you could run away and hide for two years.
“Dex, give her a chance to explain.” Joanna put her hand on his steely arm.
“Sorry, Jo. She had her chance. I’ve moved on and she isn’t dragging me back into her shit!”
“You haven’t moved on, Dex.” Regan put her hand on his other arm and squeezed. “She hasn’t either. She’s alone. You both are.”
Dex frowned at both women then raised his gaze to the men who stood at their backs. “Control your subs gentlemen; they are both very close to violating club rules. With the mood I’m in it wouldn’t take much for me to order a public punishment for their infractions.” Shrugging off their hands, he moved around the well-meaning group to go back stage and confront his former fiancée. He knew he was acting like an ass to his friends and their subs but he’d deal with the aftermath later. He could only handle one disaster at a time.
Elena waited in her dressing room, if you could call it that. It was more like a closet, made up of paper-thin walls, a flimsy door and a mobile partition. In the crowded backstage area that she shared with her band, it granted only a modicum of privacy for a wardrobe change but not much else. Still, she paced the cramped cluttered area all the while wringing her hands. Any minute now she would face Hurricane Dex who would rain down a storm of monumental proportions. She had prepared herself for this, knowing when she asked to work in his club that this confrontation was inevitable.
The door slammed back on its hinges as Dex entered the room. The mask was gone and his emotions were revealed clearly on his face - rage, indignation, and hostility. He wasted no time demonstrating that fact. “You can finish the night and then I want you gone. Don’t come back. Don’t contact my partners and worm your way back in here. Your run at The Club is over.” This was said in a cold, steely voice she barely recognized.
“Sean said you had moved on. I guess he was wrong. I’m so sorry.”
“Moved on? That’s priceless. What the hell does that mean anyway? How do you move on from a relationship that ended with a Dear John letter? It wasn’t even a letter but a goddamned email! You don’t move on from being treated like that. That kind of betrayal burns deep in your gut for a long damn time.”
Tears threatened. She hadn’t cried in over a year having learned to conquer her emotions and suppress them. They didn’t accomplish anything anyway, just made you appear weak.
“Honestly, Dex. I didn’t mean to hurt you or reject you. I was dealing with some major stuff.”
“Really, and I wasn’t?” The disdain practically dripped from his words. “I guess my “stuff” didn’t matter. It was all about you. You never gave me the opportunity to help you deal with your stuff, major or otherwise. We were engaged, Elena. We also had a contract. You were supposed to be open and honest with me, but you lied. You sent me back to war thinking we were good, that everything was going to be OK, that we were still getting married.”
What did she say to that other than she was sorry? Her breathing was erratic as she tried to keep the tears at bay as the pain of his words ripped through her. No way had he moved on. He was heartbroken and bitter, but could she really blame him? She had brutally dumped
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