What Lola Wants (London Dolls Book 1) (14 page)

Slicked back hair, and down on one knee, the creep reached out a ring box and asked, “Where should we marry, dear LouLou?”

The emphasis on LouLou sent shivers prickling across her skin. The only person who ever called her that was her mum. She guessed he meant to say it as a way of letting her know he’d been there and talked with her.

The whack job.

“Get up, creep. And get lost.” She pivoted to reenter the theatre, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her against his chest.

“We have your mother’s blessing. The only question is, where should we have the ceremony? Here, or Italy?”

“I said, no. Now, let me go.” She squirmed to break from his grasp.

“Hush, dear. I see your old friends have confused you. You’ve lost sight of your dreams. You’re too good for this place. Don’t you miss getting my flowers? Don’t you cherish my sweet notes anymore?”

“I mean it, Al, let me go,” she hissed.

“Never.” He forced his lips onto hers. Hard, frantic. The gesture made her gag. With her stomach already upset from nerves, she came close to puking.

He squeezed the token of his “love” onto her ring finger. “There, you’re mine. Forever. What were you thinking, leaving me? Such a silly girl, you know you belong to me.”

Chapter Twelve

Dennis joined his sister, who sat alone at the table front and center reserved for dancers and their friends, his focus shot to hell. Lola had accepted his invitation to live with him.

He wanted to scream out the news, tell all how happy she made him. They’d been dating for not even a week, but they’d grown close so fast and effortlessly. Besides, they had history.

His head spun.

Was this what real love felt like?

“Remember how to explain it, Dennis.” His sister poked his ribs. “I don’t want her thinking I did this to her as punishment.”

“You’re a piece of work, Sis.”

“Humor me, what are you going to tell her? I can see it in your eyes, you’re going to snitch on me.”

He rolled his eyes. “I can’t keep secrets, you should know better than that.”

“So…”

“Fine. How’s this? You figured you’d meddle in her life and fake needing her to take your place in the show because you’re selfish and wanted your best friend to work with you.”

“No.” She stood and poked him in the ribs again.

“I know, I’m jesting with you. She already knows why you did it. I had to tell her or she’d never have agreed to go through with it.”

“Tell me how you said it?” she insisted. “Does she hate me?”

He sighed and snatched the dozen red roses he’d arranged for his sister to bring along as a surprise for Lola. He wanted to wish his beauty good luck before her first show as a London Doll. “That you thought she seemed lost, and that she needed something to focus her energy on. That you tried to help. Sound about right to you?”

“Not quite right, but it’ll do. Be good to her, Dennis. I don’t want to lose her again. I bet you’ve already asked her to move with you back home?”

“I have, I told you I was going to.” He smoothed down his hair and straightened the collar of his black dress shirt. “Do I look okay?”

“You look like an evil brother who snatched my best friend away.”

He chuckled. “You better be joking.”

“Of course, Bro. You scrub up nicely. Now, go get her.”

“Wish me luck.”

He strutted backstage while humming “Whatever Lola Wants.” He had the perfect woman, and he was escaping the big city back to the land where he could surf any day he wished, and cross a road without the danger of cars flattening him, a place where he could nurture eager students into promising careers. Where he could enjoy life. In Lola’s arms.

The dressing room, packed with rowdy dancers, all primping and pruning themselves, was a sea of neon and glitter. And Sally. Sally seemed to be everywhere he turned these days. She waved and called him over, her scanty outfit so tight her wiggling boobs seemed to fight to break free. To avoid eye contact with the Venus flytrap’s tits, he kept his sightline high and scanned the room. No Lola in sight.

“Where is she?”

“Who? Louisa? What do you need her for,” Sally crooned, brushing her fingers down his arm, “when you could have me?”

“Put those mounds of flesh away and point me to where I can find her.”

“Sure, lovey. You’ll find her right out there.” Sally pointed toward the fire exit that led to a private car park for the girls. “But, remember, Sweetheart here is a loyal lovey who’ll do anything for her man.
Anything
.”

“She’s in the back car park? Why?”

“Smoking? I don’t know.” Sally shrugged. “Terrible habit, not very ladylike.”

Smoking? She didn’t smoke. Never had. The sinking in his gut told him something was wrong. Or perhaps the sly grin painted all over Sally’s face had tipped him off. Lola had seemed fine just minutes ago.

Nerves. The poor love was probably riddled with nerves.

He inched through the half-dressed dancers toward the fire exit and eased the door open.

Lola. In a lip-lock with another man. And a huge, sparkling rock on her ring finger.

Fucking poppy-cock!

He stopped himself mid-launch, second-guessing his urge to sock a punch to the bastard’s nose. If she was back with him—and it looked like she was—Lola wouldn’t care too much for his bursting into the scene all fists. He backed up and slid behind the door, out of sight, leaving the door open a tad, and lingered. Had she really gone back to him? The bastard who frightened her? Surely not?

“I’m dancing again, Al.”

“Yes, you are, my little prima. Yes, you are.”

So, she was going to dance for him again. His shoulders rounded, and his heart ripped in two. He didn’t need to hear any more.

He eased the door closed and crouched, dropping the flowers.

“Looks like you found her.” Sally grinned.

“Hell, you knew she was out there with another man, didn’t you?” Head in his hands, he fought back the tears welling. “You’re an outright bitch, you know that?”

“I have no idea who he is, but I thought you had to see for yourself… I did you a favor, lovey.”

“A favor?”

“Come to me and let me take care of you, Dennis.” She wrinkled her nose and blew him a kiss.

“You’re not my type.”

“Darling, don’t let my act scare you away. I’m not a bitch. I don’t want you for sex. I just meant… Crap. I’m here for you as a friend. Someone’s got to be.”

He kicked the flowers meant to symbolize new beginnings that now lay torn and tattered, like his pride. “To hell with The Doll House. And fuck Lola.” The anger brewing deep clenched his muscles and he spat out insults.

“Looks like you need a drink. Come on, lovey.” She hooked her arm in his and helped him to stand. “We’ll get you fixed. That dance snob wasn’t good enough for you anyway. Plenty of ladies would count themselves lucky to date you.”

He halted and snapped his arm free. Shoulders tensing, hands fisting. “What the hell am I doing? Lola wouldn’t go back to him.”

“Never mind her. A stiff drink is what you need.”

“No, I need to speak to her. Need to check if she’s okay. That he isn’t… Oh, fuck…I can’t believe I left her out there with that dangerous prick.”

He pushed on the metal bar and kicked, swinging the door open.

“What the fuck is going on?” he yelled.

Al had her arm locked, and she wiggled to break free, her eyes wide and her lips quivering. A few seconds passed, and in that time, joy of knowing she hadn’t gone back to Al flooded him, and fear over her hurting squashed him.

“Let her go, arsehole.”

“Dennis, watch out! He’s got a knife.”

He eyed the short blade in the bastard’s right hand then lunged to his left. In one swift hook, he coiled all his hatred for Al into his curled hand and buried his fist into the bastard’s long nose. Without pause, he grabbed the guy’s left wrist and, with his free arm, pushed Lola free from his grasp. Dennis twisted Al’s arm and punched into the pompous prick’s chin. Blood spurted over his hand from Al’s mouth and trickled down his arm.

Now that he’d drawn first blood, maybe the guy would get scared and leave.

“Get your arse out of here,” he yelled, “before I finish you off.”

Lola sobbed behind him. Distracted, Dennis glanced to her. She clutched her phone and battled to explain their location to someone on the other end of the call. Tears poured down her porcelain-colored face. “Please, hurry. He’s waving a knife around and threatening to kill both of us.”

That was his Lola; exaggerating to get the police there faster. “Baby, get inside—uh.” A jolt of pain tore through his ribs, and Dennis reeled back in shock. He’d been stabbed? He glanced down. Blood stained his shirt and spread fast.

“No! Dennis.” She flew at Al then brought her knee up into the guy’s crotch and rammed into him. “Bastard.”

Al hurled out a wail and fell to the ground. He curled into fetal position, dropped the bloodied blade, and clutched his balls.

Venomous energy seared through Dennis’s chest and overshadowed the sharp sting of the stab wound pissing blood. He clenched his jaw and towered over the sniffling dickhead. “Get up, you worthless piece of shit,” he demanded. “Get up. How much of a man are you without a knife?”

“No, no. I don’t want to fight you.” Al dipped his reddened face toward his chest and curled further into himself. “Please. I don’t want to fight you.”

She kicked the knife farther from his reach.

“Of course, you don’t. I’m not a weak girl you can bully.”

“Hey.” Lola stormed between them. “I’m not weak. I did all right without you.”

“Now isn’t the best time to prove you can stand up to him.”

“Actually, it’s the perfect time.” She hovered over the pathetic man lying before them and cooed, “I’ve dialed 999. Police should be here any second. While you’re rotting away in jail, I’ll be sure to enjoy making love to this wonderful man.”

“You’re making a mistake, Louisa. Why would you give up your dream for this monkey and dancing in a strip club?”

“Being with this ‘monkey’ is my dream.” She moved to Dennis’s side and kissed his cheek. “And at least here I get to dance how I want to, live how I want to. And I don’t get stabbed in the back when the choreographer decides he’d rather bang a blonder, younger model.”

“Baby.” He rose to his knees, his shoulders shaking and his lip quivering. “I told you, that was a misunderstanding. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Go to hell, Al.”

She stormed to him and pushed him back to the ground. “You’re not welcome in my life. In any capacity.”

“Don’t do this, Louisa.”

Dennis glowered at him. “To you, she doesn’t exist anymore.”

She pivoted to Dennis, her eyes wide and her breath erratic. “Are you hurt badly?”

“I’m fine. I’ll handle this creep. You should get ready for your big performance.”

“No way, I’m waiting here with you until the police drag him away.”

“Take a deep breath and go show the world Louisa Lone dances to her own tune.” He shifted to the side and pulled his sports jacket over his wound to cover the blood staining his shirt.

“You’re not fooling me. You’re hurt. I can dance another time.”

“Don’t be daft.” He winced.

“But you’re bleeding. We need to get you to the emergency room ASAP. Now that I’ve found you Dennis Bay, I’m not going to lose you because of your stubbornness. It’s my turn to take care of you. Got it?”

He nodded. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“No, you don’t.” She slipped her arm under his to help him sit. “You wait there, and I’ll arrange a ride.”

“Sit tight. The ambulance is on the way. Sweetheart already took care of it.” Sally swooped in and ruffled his hair. “Poor Dennis.”

“Where the hell did you come from?”

“You didn’t think I’d miss all the action, did you? I’ve been here at the exit watching the whole time, silly. And, oh, my, I do feel bad. If I’d have known that guy was dangerous, I’d have never…ever…”

“It’s okay, Sally. You couldn’t have known.”

“Still. I’m sorry.” She glanced at the ground. “How about I get you guys a cup of tea while you wait? Ambulance might be a while with London traffic.”

“Thank you, Sally. That would be helpful.”

She slinked out the exit and toward front of house.

“Thank you, Dennis.” Lola smothered him with kisses. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Always.”

Chapter Thirteen

A week had passed since the Al incident at the theatre. He had been arrested for theft and grievous bodily harm with intent to kill, and was awaiting trial. Bond had been refused due to flight risk and his tendency toward stalking.

Louisa jigged on the spot. “You made this possible. I once believed I didn’t deserve such loyalty. You and Dennis, you both lavish me in unyielding support and love. And copious amounts of joy. I’m so lucky. Thank you.”

“Hush with the soppy talk. I’m off to the front of house to catch your first burlesque performance.” Jane tugged at her skirt. “Don’t forget to shed these clothes once you’re out there. But not too quickly. You want to make them beg for it. Got it?”

She nodded.

“And you’re wearing pasties, right?”

She nodded again.

“Way to go. This is going to be epic. And I’ve brought my new accountant along for the show. He’s a dear, much nicer than my last date.” Jane leaned forward and whispered, “I think Dennis picked him in hopes I’d fall madly in love with him. I think he may just be right.” She patted her on the back and hurried away.

The announcer gave her the one-minute countdown.

She scurried to the left wing to await her cue. It’d be any second. Nerves bubbled in her tummy, and her feet still insisted on jigging on the spot as if acting of their own accord. Her heart pounded in her inner ears, even over the master of ceremonies and his crass “limber dancers doing the splits” jokes.

He announced her name.

The audience cheered.

Jane whistled. She knew that sound well, and the sharp pitch pierced through the bustle.