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DANCE INTO MY LIFE

A NASTY BASTARDS MC NOVEL

HAYLEY FAIMAN
HAYLEY FAIMAN BOOKS, LLC
 CONTENTS

Also by Hayley Faiman

Stay Connected

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
Chapter 32
Epilogue

About the Author

Also by Hayley Faiman
Dance Into My Life

Copyright © 2022 by Hayley Faiman

All rights reserved.
Cover Designer: Pink Ink Designs. Cassy Roop. http://www.pinkinkdesigns.com
Editor: My Brother’s Editor. Ellie McLove. http://www.mybrotherseditor.net

Proofreading: My Brothers Editor. Rosa Sharon. http://www.mybrotherseditor.net

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief
quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Visit my website at: http://hayleyfaiman.com
Created with Vellum
ALSO BY HAYLEY FAIMAN

Men of Baseball Series—

Pitching for Amalie
Catching Maggie
Forced Play for Libby
Sweet Spot for Victoria

Russian Bratva Series —

Owned by the Badman
Seducing the Badman
Dancing for the Badman
Living for the Badman
Tempting the Badman
Protected by the Badman
Forever my Badman
Betrothed to the Badman
Chosen by the Badman
Bought by the Badman
Collared by the Badman

Notorious Devils MC —
Rough & Rowdy
Rough & Raw
Rough & Rugged
Rough & Ruthless
Rough & Ready
Rough & Rich
Rough & Real

Cash Bar Series —

Laced with Fear
Chased with Strength
Flamed with Courage
Blended with Pain
Twisted with Chaos
Mixed with trouble

SAVAGE BEAST MC —
 UnScrew Me
UnBreak Me
UnChain Me
UnLeash Me
UnTouch Me
UnHinge Me
UnWreck Me
UnCage Me

Unfit Hero Series —

CONVICT
HERO
FRAUD
KILLER
COWBOY

Zanetti Famiglia Series —

Becoming the Boss
Becoming his Mistress
Becoming his Possession
Becoming the Street Boss
Becoming the Hitman
Becoming his Wife
Becoming her Salvation

Prophecy Sisters Series —

Bride of the Traitor
Bride of the Sea
Bride of the Frontier
Bride of the Emperor

Astor Family Series —

Hypocritically Yours
Egotistically Yours
Matrimonially Yours
Occasionally Yours

Nasty Bastards MC —
Ruin My Life
Tame My Life
Start My Life
Dance into My Life
 Shake Up My Life
Repair My Life
Sweeten My Life

Russian Torpedo—
Stolen by the Sinner
Bound to the Sinner
Caught by the Sinner
F*cked by the Sinner
Stripped by the Sinner
Rejecting the Sinner
Loved by the Sinner

Offspring Legends—
Between Flaming Stars
Beautiful Unwanted Wildflower

Esquire Black Duet Series –

DISCOVERY
APPEAL

Forbidden Love Series —

Personal Foul
Kinetic Energy

Standalone Titles
Royally Relinquished: A Modern Day Fairy Tale
 STAY CONNECTED

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I do not try to dance better than anyone else. I only try to dance better than myself.
MIKHAIL BARYSHNIKOV
 CHAPTER ONE

MARILYN

H itching my duffel bag over my shoulder, I look up at the flashing sign and wonder if this is
really my life? Three years ago, I was a carefree twenty-one-year-old. Now I’m twenty-three
with the weight of the world on my shoulders. Though, to be truly fair, I was never carefree at
any age.
Not really.
Dipping my chin down, I walk through the back door of the building. The music is only a low hum
as all of the employees set up and get ready for the evening. I don’t mind it though, it’s kind of nice
that it isn’t thrumming through the room immediately. It will be blaring soon enough, vibrating my
body, but it does make me forget where I am and what I’m doing for a little while.
“You look good, girl,” Synergy calls out.
She’s on stage warming up, her legs wrapped around a pole as she extends her arms out. I don’t
know how she does it, her strength is unfreakingbelievable.
Smiling, I wave toward her. “You too,” I call out.
A shadow stands to the side of me, and I shift my attention over to Greg, who is looking down at
me. He always stands a little too close, his eyes always linger a little longer than is comfortable, and
honestly, he just kind of creeps me out. But he’s the bouncer and I need him. I can’t piss him off by
being rude to him.
Pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose, I try to give him a smile, but I have no doubt that it’s
nothing short of a cringe.
“Are you dancing tonight?” he asks, ignoring my look of disgust. “We have some important people
coming in.”
“Important people?” I ask, my expression shifting to curiosity.
We live in East Texas. I mean, it’s not completely dilapidated, but at the same time, we are
definitely not a thriving metropolis. So, I cannot imagine who could be coming here that would be so
important.
“Very important. They’ll want to see the best of the best. You will be performing.”
I don’t know when Greg became the man in charge of the lineup of performers, but I don’t argue
with him, mainly because I want to run away from him and performing means money in my pocket and
that is the only reason I’m here. So instead of saying anything, I give him a smile, a nod, and walk
away.
Thankfully, he doesn’t continue to follow me. It’s the little things that really make my evenings.
Greg leaving me alone. It’s not much, but I’ll take it.
Slipping down the back hallway, I make my way toward the dressing room. It’s not much of a
dressing room though. It’s more of a closet. There is a desk, a chair, a mirror, some hooks screwed to
the wall, and a small set of lockers for our personal use. I only lock my tip money up in them. That’s
all.
Keith doesn’t really want to expand the dressing room because that would take away from the
floor and he is not going to take away from his customers. The more bodies on the floor, the more
money he makes, and the more money I make too, so really, I don’t bitch about the lack of dressing
room.
A hand touches my elbow before I reach for the dressing room door. Looking behind me, I blink
and then smile at the sight of Keith standing there. I like Keith. He’s a decent guy, and he always looks
after us. He’s fair and kind. He’s compassionate too, but right now, he is staring at me and he looks…
off.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Got some important people coming here tonight. Use you as a closer, okay?”
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
His eyes flick to the side, looking away before they come back to meet mine. “Hope so. It’s
important tonight though, be on your A game, okay?”
“I will, but tell me everything is okay, that you’re okay.”
He doesn’t answer me, at least not right away. He lifts his chin slightly, his eyes shifting above my
head, then he lowers his gaze to meet mine. “It’s fine.”
It most definitely is not fine.
“Go on, get ready.” Keith doesn’t say anything else. He turns and walks away from me.
I watch him for a moment before I slip into the dressing room and set my bag down. Taking my
phone out of my pocket, I look at my notifications and am surprised that there isn’t a text there waiting
for me.

Are you okay?

JEFFERSON: Eating Hot Pockets watching a movie.

What movie?

JEFFERSON: Star Wars IV

Take a shower and brush your teeth before bed. I’ll be home to make you breakfast before
school.

JEFFERSON: K
I love you, punk.

JEFFERSON: Yup.

Punk is absolutely right. Putting my phone back in my bag, I start to get ready for the evening.
Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I frown. Taking my glasses off, I quickly slip my contacts in
with a sigh. I hate wearing them, even if it’s just for the evening.
I try not to think about anything, but visions of my life, of what it was supposed to be and what it
isn’t, fill my head the second I see my reflection without my glasses on, knowing what is about to
happen. This was not supposed to be my life, but then again, this wasn’t supposed to be Jefferson’s
either.
Reminding myself once again, as if I’d forgotten it somehow, this is for him, nobody else. This is
to give him the things that he needs so that he never has to do anything like this, if he doesn’t want to,
that is.

PREZ

T heThough,
man across from me gulps as he closes his eyes. No doubt he thinks that his life is over.
to be fair, the life that he once knew is indeed… over.
Clearing my throat, I lift my hands to my face, pressing them together as I watch him. Typically, I
do not conduct club business at my garage, but I know that Luella isn’t going to be in today, and I
didn’t want to do this at the clubhouse. I want to keep this separate, because though this involves the
club, I’m not ready to go public with it yet.
“What happens now?” he asks.
“You have no way to pay me?”
He shakes his head from side to side, tears welling in his eyes. “I owe too much on the building. I
just have too much debt. I don’t have even a dime to my name left over at the end of the month.”
Nodding my head a couple of times, my eyes focus on his. “What did you do with the money you
borrowed?” I ask.
Usually, I don’t give a shit what anyone does with anything. I loaned him the money. He did
whatever the fuck he did with it. But this is different. I’m not going to just get some random property,
a car, a house, whatever. I’m getting a fucking fully running business, one that I’m not sure I want.
He clears his throat, shifting in his seat, looking supremely uncomfortable, which makes me think
that he did something really fucking foolish with it.
“I got a lead,” he begins. They always get a lead, it’s for different things, but the excuse is always
the same. I don’t say that though. Instead, I listen intently as he continues. “Got a lead on some
cryptocurrency and thought it was a sure thing.”
“Yeah?” I ask.
I know what it is, but I got no damn clue how the shit works, so I don’t even pretend like I do. I
work with cash, that’s what I know, that’s what I care about. But I don’t say that, instead, I just listen
to him and wait for whatever he’s going to say next. He shifts in his seat, yet again, clearing his throat
as he does.
“Yeah, it was a scam. A week after I transferred the money, everything just vanished. I won’t be
able to pay you back, not at all. I got nothing but debt piled on debt.”
Leaning back in my chair, I watch him for a moment. Everything that I’ve heard about the guy is
that he’s decent. However, I can’t give him a break just because he got swindled, sucks that he fucked
up, but business is business. It wasn’t his money to lose and not pay back.
“I’ll come by the club tonight with a few of my men. We’ll make a decision on where to go from
there.”
He nods, standing to his feet. “Is there a chance that I’ll be able to keep it?” Keith is so hopeful
that I almost tell him yes, just to say yes, because I have a feeling the moment I tell him the truth, his
face is going to crumple.
“Not a chance,” I say. “No way in fuck can you keep it, but maybe we can come up with some
way to keep you involved, if that’s the route we take.”
His eyes widen, then his brows knit together as he stands. He starts to walk toward the door, his
hand wrapped around the knob when he pauses. He turns his head to look back at me, his eyes finding
mine.
“I thought you were going to kill me,” he says.
I let out a chuckle. “Dead people can’t pay, Keith. Plus, I don’t kill people because they can’t pay
a loan back. People would stop coming to me for loans if I did.”
He lifts a shoulder in a shrug, then clears his throat. “Makes sense,” he murmurs.
I watch as he walks out of the door, then I lean back in my chair, well Luella’s chair, and close my
eyes. There’s a knock on the doorjamb a few moments later and I turn toward the sound, opening one
eye as I look at the man standing in the doorway.
He is watching me with an obvious question. There’s no doubt he recognized Keith, who just left
the garage, and did so without taking a car with him, or dropping off keys. He’s going to demand an
answer, curiosity no doubt overflowing.
This deal with Keith was never made public, I made the executive decision to loan him the
money, I thought it would be an easy investment considering his line of business, that he could and
would pay it back quickly, but I was wrong a-fuckin'-gain.
 CHAPTER TWO

PREZ

“W anna tell me why the owner of the T.N.A. was just in here?” Bowie asks, his shoulder leaning
against the doorjamb as he watches me, his brows knitted together, his eyes on me and
focused.
Grunting, I stand and make my way toward him. My fucking son-in-law, nosy as fuck too, at that.
“That’s the stupidest fucking name. But he’s no longer the owner, well not after tonight.”
“You shittin’ me?” Bowie asks, his eyes wide.
My lips curve up into a grin. “Not shittin’ you. Handles is working up the documents right now.
I’m going to get them signed tonight. T.N.A. is going to be owned by the Nasty Bastards MC.”
“What the fuck we gonna do with a goddamn titty bar?” he asks.
I can’t stop myself from laughing. I know that I’m over forty, but the name, that shit is still funny as
hell, titty bar. Makes me laugh every goddamn time. He’s right though, it’s not a full-nude strip club,
it’s just tits and ass, no cunt on display. And I got no fucking clue what the hell I’m going to do with it,
either.
It’s been a while since I’ve been in there, no need to when I got a roomful of whores who will do
a lot more than dance and shake their tits at me.
“You gonna manage it?”
I shrug a shoulder as I lift my hand and place my palm against his chest. “Luella manages this
place so well, don’t even need to fuckin’ be here anymore. Might as well.”
He snorts. “Fuck off,” he says with a laugh.
He knows I’m messing with him. I got a club to run, the mechanic garage, and I have this shit with
the LA Mafia still on my back, plus I’m balls deep in recruitments and patch-over offers. So, no, I
won’t be running a bunch of bitches shaking their asses for dollar bills.
“Hoping that Keith will manage it for a paycheck.”
“Damn, that’s a good idea.”
Laughing, I shake my head a few times. “Had a few of those in my day. Anyway, I have to meet
with some guys about patches. You hold down the fort here?”
He jerks his chin. “Fucking Rebecca’s minivan is back in the shop. Ironfist and I are going to
work on it together. We’ve done it separately, but it keeps breaking down.”
 “Need any help?” I ask.
He moves his head from side to side. “Nah, we’ll get it patched up. That thing’s limpin’ along.
She really needs something new, but her old man is fucking worthless.”
“She should leave his ass,” I say, even though I got zero fucking clue what the situation is with
her.
Bowie lifts his chin in a jerk, his eyes finding mine. “She absolutely fucking should. Don’t know
why she’s still hangin’ on. Though guessing there’s a reason, and I’m honestly not sure I need to know
that reason.”
His words are clear enough to me. Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around his shoulder and
give him a shake.
“You’re a good man, August,” I say, using his real name, something I don’t ever do. But this is
bigger than the club. This is father-in-law and son-in-law shit. “Offer her a place if she needs it with
her kids. Whether it’s now or sometime in the future, make sure it’s clear there is no time frame on
that, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he rasps.
Leaving him, I head toward my bike. It’s parked in the back of the garage, and I have to pass all of
the bays and my men working their asses off as I do. This is always what I wanted for me, for my
club, a clean operation… well, at least one.
We’ll never be a clean club, but this will be, this garage. This is our place where we can just do
what we fucking love, no matter what the fuck is going on in the club. A place we can get away from
whatever is happening, whatever bothers us.
Once I’m outside, I turn around and look at the back of the garage.
I built this.
For me, for my brothers.
This is who we are, what we love. Even if it is a hell of a lot of work. And it is, but it’s ours.

MARILYN

“S hit,”The
Synergy announces as she walks into the dressing room.
club has been open for several hours, but I haven’t done a dance yet. I’m okay with that,
this job is just to help Jefferson have a better life. It is not my favorite thing on earth to do in the
evenings. So, if I earn enough in one night to pay a bill for the week, I’m good with that.
“What?” I ask, glancing down at my phone, then letting out a sigh before I shift my attention back
to her.
“That room out there is full of a bunch of hot ass, badass, dudes.”
“From where?” I ask.
I can’t imagine these hot ass, badass dudes being from anywhere around here. They must be from
out of town or something. I also wonder when these super important people are going to show up.
“Nasty Bastards MC. Girl, I have heard about their parties. Top notch. I’m hoping that one of them
will buy a lap dance and maybe I can get an invite to the next one.”
That name sounds really familiar, Nasty Bastards, but I can’t place it and I’m about to go on stage,
so I push it out of my head. Whoever they are, it doesn’t mean anything to me. I’m not going to be
asking to be invited to any parties. I need to focus on my dance.
 I’m not the best dancer in the club by far. Synergy is a master on the pole, and I’m completely
subpar, but people seem to enjoy my naughty secretary dance a hell of a lot. I even bought some fake
black-rimmed glasses and everything. No way could I wear my prescription ones up there.
Thankfully, my glasses are needed, but I’m not completely blind without them. They’re more for
preventive care, so that my eyesight doesn’t get worse. I can’t always read small print at a distance,
but for the few minutes on stage for a dance, I don’t need them.
Plus, I think that they sense my natural shyness, something I’ve learned men find intriguing. I was
not made for this job at all, in fact, in the real world, I am an actual secretary. I’m studying to be a
paralegal, or at least, I was until Jefferson came into my life full time.
Walking out of the dressing room, I hurry to the side of the stage just as the lights start to go down.
Looking down at my black high heels, I wonder how this truly became my life. The music starts
before I can figure out my conundrum, and that is my cue to stuff everything down and get on with my
night.
Climbing the short stairs, I’m thankful for the umpteenth time that Chris makes sure the bright
lights are right in my face, that way I can’t see the audience. He always has my back on that. In fact,
everyone who works here, aside from creepy Greg, is really awesome.
I dance, pretending to be a sexy secretary, my short skirt showing the cheeks of my ass before I
eventually rip the Velcro away, which leaves my bottom half in only a thin G-string and my black high
heels.
On top, my little white top is still tied between my breasts, and I crouch down in front of the
stage, spreading my thighs as I do. I lick my bottom lip as sensually as possible as I reach for the top
and tug on the ends, releasing it.
Shrugging my top off, I bite my bottom lip as I toss it away. Then I rise, straightening my legs
before I walk around the stage, rolling my hips, I lift my arms and arch my back. I do all of the things
that I need to do with just my pasty hearts covering my nipples.
When the music ends and the lights dim again, I let out a sigh before I hurry off of the stage. I
know that Tiara is going to be collecting my money for me, thankfully. It’s part of what she does. She
doesn’t dance, but she does collect the tips and she also helps out in the club. She’s basically an
assistant manager.
“Girl, you were on fire,” Tiara announces as she gives me the money from the stage.
There is a lot there, more than I would have even guessed. It’s a blessing, no matter how I got it. I
thank her, then organize it and tuck it away in my small locker before I put on my little pair of stretchy,
barely there hot-pink shorts. They match the pink heart pasties covering my nipples perfectly. It’s
probably my favorite outfit ever, of the stripper outfits that I wear.
We always have to go out after our shows to mingle with the crowd. It’s the one thing that I
absolutely hate about this job. I don’t really care for dancing on stage, but as long as Chris can make
the audience disappear with the lights, I’m okay with that.
“You did great,” Keith practically shouts as I step out of the dressing room.
Tipping my head back, I look up into his eyes. He looks stressed as shit, but he gives me a grin.
“Thanks,” I say.
“You’ve been requested for the Black Room,” he announces.
“Keith,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, lifting his arm, he wraps his fingers around my bicep and squeezes gently.
“You don’t have a choice. You are who he wants. There was no other option that would work.”
“Keith, I’m a little hesitant,” I breathe.
 He shakes his head a couple of times, his fingers tightening on my arm before he jerks me roughly,
then he releases my arm and takes a step backward, running his fingers through his hair.
“You don’t have a choice. Nothing will happen, he knows the rules.”
I open my mouth to protest again when he leans down, his face close to mine.
“This is important. Please,” he begs.
Swallowing, I nod my head once, my eyes searching his. “Okay.”
He straightens, clears his throat, then jerks his chin as he walks past me. Apparently, he’s going to
deliver me to whoever this is waiting for me in the Black Room. Once I’m in front of the door, I look
at the black, solid thing as if it’s going to jump out and bite me, staring at it, wondering who the fuck
is going to be on the other side.
Turning my head, I look back at Keith. He gives me an encouraging smile, but I don’t think that
he’s going to help me in any way. And he doesn’t. He just continues to smile. Shifting my attention
back to the door, I reach forward and wrap my hand around the knob, twisting it before I push it open.
“Well, hello,” a voice murmurs as soon as I walk into the room and my eyes widen at the same
time I suck in a breath, staring at the man who is sitting in a chair facing me.
 CHAPTER THREE

MARILYN

H oly fucking shit.

Mr. Legend Nelson, Esq., stares back at me. My fucking boss. He smiles, stands to his feet
and walks toward me. He stops in front of me, dipping his chin so that he can look down at me.
He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
“I guess I didn’t know you as well as I thought that I did.”
I blink a few times, wetting my lips before I let out a sigh, then my eyes flick down to his black
vest and I lift my gaze back up to meet his.
Nasty Bastards MC.
“I don’t think that I know you very well either,” I say, arching a brow.
He tucks his chin down, looks at his vest, then lifts his eyes back to meet mine. “You wanna tell
me why you’re here? I pay you more than average for your position, or do I not pay you enough?”
Instantly, I feel like shit. Mr. Nelson is a great boss, he pays me extremely well, plus I have
insurance and benefits. He also probably would have given me a raise or a loan or whatever I needed
had he known my circumstances, but I never told him. My change in circumstance is not someone
else’s problem.
“It’s personal,” I say, attempting to square my shoulders.
He doesn’t say anything immediately, his eyes focused on mine, holding my gaze in silence. Then
he clears his throat and takes a step toward me and another until he’s standing right in front of me.
He’s close, too close. I can feel his disappointment in me.
“Mr. Nelson.” My voice comes out on a tremble, and I try not to cry, but I’m standing here in
pasties and hot pants with my boss. It’s embarrassing as hell and all I want to do is cry about it.
“I’m not going to judge you. Hell, you could judge the shit out of me, and you’ve never said
anything. But I am going to offer you my help, in whatever way you need it. That is open ended, and
I’ll see you Monday morning.”
He gives me a grin, then brushes past me to the door. He opens it, closing it softly behind him, and
that is when my knees give out. I don’t fall to the floor, but I do stumble forward and grab onto the
arm of the black sofa for support.
Sucking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly, then I close my eyes and try to calm down from what
has just happened. My boss, my attorney boss, just freaking saw me strip on stage. I’ll never
emotionally recover from this, but then that image of the patch on his vest pops into my head.
Nasty Bastards MC.
My eyes open and my lips part. Oh my god. Realization slams into me. He’s one of them… I’ve
only heard about them, and not really much about them. When Synergy was talking about them earlier,
I didn’t even pay much attention. They’re kind of legends, the men of the Nasty Bastards MC.
Their clubhouse is out in the country, down a road that you do not travel unless you’re looking for
trouble. And as much trouble as I’ve had in my life, I have never been one to actually seek it out, so
that road, I’ve never traveled down.
But I know my boss, he’s not evil or bad. He’s not perfect by any means, but he’s a good person.
And to think that he’s one of them, it makes my stomach twist. I don’t know how that makes me feel.
Then I remember when a group of them came into his office not too long ago. They were rugged
and sexy, beautiful even, and they scared the absolute shit out of me. They terrified and intrigued me
all at the same time.
They were his friends. Holy. Shit.

PREZ

H andles emerges from the private room, his brows knit together as he looks behind him at the
closed door, then back to me. I’m leaning against the wall across from him, my shoulders on the
hard surface, my boot flat against it as well to prop myself.
“That was Marilyn. I knew it was, but I needed confirmation.”
“Marilyn?” I ask.
His lips twitch and his gaze lifts to mine. “My secretary.”
My eyes widen and I have no doubt that they practically bug out of my head. I remember his
secretary. She was a hot piece, but skittish, scared, quiet, with her little black-rimmed glasses and
skirt. She was definitely not someone that I would ever have imagined dancing on the stage in a strip
club.
“That was her with the sexy schoolgirl kind of getup?” I ask.
The images are burned into my head, because it was hot as fuck. She may not use the pole like
some of the other girls, but she did not need it. The sweet sensuality of her shyness was everything it
needed to be.
He nods his head. Fuck. She was a goddamn knockout, though it doesn’t really surprise me that
she looked as amazing naked as she did clothed. She was hot when I saw her in his office a few
weeks ago.
Clearing my throat, I’m trying not to be disrespectful, because this is his secretary, this is someone
that he knows, but my cock is twitching at the thought of that body on stage. Then the concept of that
hot body beneath mine. Shifting my gaze over his head and toward the door that he just emerged from,
I think about slipping inside and taking my shot.
“I don’t want to know what’s going through your head,” Handles murmurs.
“You really don’t,” I say on a laugh, my attention shifting back to him.
As much as I want to walk past him and into that room, I can’t tonight. We have to meet with
Keith. There is a lot to discuss, and business always comes before cunt. As much as I wish it didn’t
have to—especially tonight.
“Keith’s waiting,” I say.
Handles grunts, then together we make our way toward Keith’s office. He’s sitting behind the desk
as we slip into the room. Handles closes the door behind us as I walk over to the chair and sink down
across from Keith. Handles sits in the chair next to mine.
“Did you look at the documents?” Handles asks.
Keith shifts in his seat, then nods his head. He looks pathetically sad, and I do feel bad for him,
but this is something that he did to himself. He took a risk, and I have to give him props for that, but
this particular risk was a failure. That doesn’t mean the next one will be, but this one, without a
doubt, was just that.
“I did. They look fair,” he admits. And they are. I’m not in the business of fucking people over.
All I want is what is agreed upon and what is fair. Nothing more, nothing less.
Handles nods, then clears his throat. “Come to my office tomorrow and my secretary can notarize
everything. We’ll get it filed with the county and do the transfer of everything then.”
I almost say some smart-ass remark about his secretary, but I don’t. This is not the time nor the
place, and hell, Keith might know exactly who the secretary is. I don’t know how much he knows
about Marilyn.
“I also have a preliminary offer to make you,” I announce, shaking off thoughts of the sexy
secretary.
Handles’s gaze shifts to me and he narrows his eyes. He has no fucking clue what I’m going to say
and it’s almost comical. But I’m not going to manage this place and none of my men are either. We’re
not made for this shit.
“Preliminary offer, but as long as the books look good, and everything checks out, I wondered if
you would continue to manage the place for a paycheck?”
Handles doesn’t object, in fact, he jerks his chin up in a swift move and raises his brows. He
likes the idea as much as Bowie did, and that makes me feel good. Because I got no desire to manage
this place, but I damn sure have a desire to make the kind of money that I know this place can make.
Maybe one day Keith will be in a position to buy it back at fair market value, that’s something that I
could consider one day too.
“I like the sound of that.”
“You still owe the money on the building and whatever loans you took out. No reason to put you
even more in debt. I’m an asshole, but I’m not cruel just for shits and giggles.”
“Thanks,” he says, and I can see that the stress on his face has lifted slightly.
Standing, I look over to Handles who rises to his feet as well. “Monday nine o’clock in my office,
address is on the letterhead. Be ready to sign.”
“I’ll be there,” Keith murmurs.
We leave the office and head out of the building. Straddling my bike, I stare at the brick building
with the flashing neon sign of a woman’s body dancing. Handles lifts his hand in a wave and leaves.
I can’t, not yet. There’s something keeping me here, or maybe more like someone. Looking down
at my watch, I bite the corner inside of my mouth as I stare at the back door. I stay there for far too
long, watching, waiting, like a fucking creep.
The door opens and the women start to filter out and toward their cars. I decide that I need to at
least make myself scarce, so I move my bike to the side of the building, facing the back parking lot.
I watch like a total fucking creeper. My focus saved for one person and one person only. That sexy
as fuck secretary, Marilyn. Even in the dark parking lot, I see her as she walks toward her car.
 But then something catches my attention causing me to frown at the sight.
There is a man standing out with the women, his arms crossed as he watches them get into their
cars. Except, when Marilyn is making her way toward her vehicle, he walks her to it. His hand on her
back. He’s too goddamn close to her. I watch. Her body is stiff, and I don’t know how I know, but
even at a distance, she looks uncomfortable to me.
I stay right where I fucking am, begging this fucker to make the wrong move. Lucky for him, he
doesn’t. She slips into her car and starts the engine. He stands there, watching her as she pulls out of
the parking lot like a fucking asshole.
Unlike him, I don’t stick around to watch her taillights, instead, I follow her home. Maybe I’m the
fucking asshole here, but I find it hard to give much of a fuck. Instead, I continue on my way and am
surprised when she heads toward the bad side of town.
When she pulls into the driveway of a very small bungalow, I frown, looking around the
neighborhood. No way in fuck should a single woman, in her early twenties, be living in this hood.
No fucking way.
I stay where I am, watching and waiting as she makes her way safely inside of her home. She
intrigues me, this Marilyn, and now I’m on a mission to find out more about her, mainly and most
importantly, how her cunt feels wrapped around my dick.
 CHAPTER FOUR

MARILYN

L ocking up the house, I make my way toward Jefferson’s room and open the door slightly to
check in on him. He’s sound asleep and I watch him for a moment. He’s too old for me to check
on him, but I do it anyway. When he’s like this, asleep, he looks much younger, he also looks
less hurt by life too.
Closing the door quietly, I walk to my own bedroom and close the door behind me, then make my
way toward my bathroom. Starting my shower, I wait for the water to heat up while I strip away my
clothes and peel off my heart pasties.
I don’t look at myself in the mirror. I’m not ashamed of dancing to earn money. It’s not what I ever
planned on doing, but I don’t feel shame, not in this case. I need the money for Jefferson and that just
strips the shame away as easily as I strip my clothes away. But I can’t deny that this was not the life
that I was trying to build for myself.
It doesn’t matter though.
My intention was never to do this, but at the same time, Jefferson’s intention was not to be
abandoned by the only people who were supposed to be there for him. Abandoned the way that I was,
but just in a different circumstance. So, we have each other, my brother and me, and that is all that
matters.
Once I’ve washed the shimmer, lotion, oil, and sweat away from my body, I wrap my towel
around myself before walking into my bedroom. Once I’m in my room, I pull on my sweats before
slipping into bed for what will be the best three and a half hours of sleep of my life.
The workweek is almost over and although I’ll be stripping tonight and tomorrow night, I am
looking forward to resting all day long on Sunday. I live for and look forward to that day all week
long.
Pulling the blankets over my head, I close my eyes and see him. The same man that I have seen in
my dreams for the past few weeks. The man who came to see Handles. Now I know he was one of his
friends.
I don’t know why I haven’t been able to get him off of my mind, but he’s stuck there and so is his
rough, deep voice. His short beard, his gorgeous blue eyes. That man was perfection, even if he was
about twenty years older than me. It just made him even more gorgeous to me.
 In what feels like five minutes, the alarm on my phone sounds and I sit straight up. My eyes are
wide as I look around the room. Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out, then force my way out of bed.
I need to make Jefferson a good meal for breakfast, make his lunch, get us both ready, and out of
the door for another day. It seems like every day, I go through the motions of trying to do everything
right, though I’m not sure if I’m failing or not.
Stumbling toward the bathroom, I look at my tired reflection in the mirror. “Time to get your shit
together. It’s Friday,” I whisper to myself before I slide my glasses on my face.
My reflection doesn’t say anything back, she doesn’t even smile. In fact, she just looks exhausted
as hell. Although, I know from experience that this is nothing a good eye cream, makeup, and coffee
can’t fix. So, I get right to work.
When I’m dressed, I make my way into the kitchen and get started cooking. If the smell of food
doesn’t wake Jefferson up, then I’ll have to go into his room and brave the stench of boy. Smiling to
myself, I flip the pancakes and scramble the eggs. I even bought this fancy uncured frozen sausage to
make.
I feel like I’m really doing the most I can, at least I’m trying. I don’t know anything about raising a
kid, my role models… hell our role models, weren’t so great, and now I have one who I’m
responsible for.
“Hey Mari, that smells so good,” a sleepy voice cracks, interrupting me from thoughts of our
parents.
Turning my head, I look over my shoulder to the boy-man who makes his way toward me. He’s
shuffling his feet wearing a pair of sweats that he’s cut off into shorts, and no shirt. His hair is all
mussed up, and he’s rubbing the sleep out of one of his eyes.
“Come on and sit down. It’s just about ready,” I call out.
He makes his way over to the small table that I have in the corner of the dismal dining room. He
leans back, lifting his arms above his head as he stretches.
“You do too much, you should sleep in instead of making all this. I can have cereal,” he murmurs.
I plate his food, then carry it over to him, along with some eggs and sausage for myself. Sitting
down across from him, I reach out and take his hand in mine. His eyes flick from the food that he no
doubt wants to start shoveling into his mouth immediately and he grins.
“You need a hot meal to start the day, Jefferson. I’m taking care of you, and this is what I want to
do for you.”
He nods, his cheeks tinting pink, and I shake my head, giving him a smile as my hand falls from
his. “Thanks,” he rasps.
We don’t say anything else. He dips his chin and starts to demolish his plate. I’m so caught up in
watching him that I almost lose track of time and forget to eat my own food.
His smile, the way he eats with gusto, everything about him makes me proud of him, and I know
deep in my gut that I am doing the right thing with him. Even if I work myself into an early grave, it
will be worth it as long as he is safe and healthy.

PREZ

I have all weekend before that strip club is officially mine, and no matter how much work I throw
myself into, I cannot get that woman off of my mind. I’m sitting in the Nasty Bastards clubhouse,
staring at the wall and wondering why I don’t just go to her fucking place and claim her, get that shit
over with, or at least claim her for the night.
There’s a knock on my office door and I look up to see Bans standing there. He’s not a patched
brother of the club officially, but he’s damn close. He’s the new recruit for tech. He’s smart as shit,
and Country knows him from the police force.
A rogue cop like himself once, he got lost when a dirty outfit ran his name through the mud. He’s
cleaned himself up and now he’s a recruit for us, his sole job being tech right now. Then later, I have
no doubt I’ll find plenty for him to do.
“Talk to you for a minute?” he asks.
Dipping my chin, I lift my hand and motion for him to sit in the chair across from me. “I got some
info on the club in Louisiana, the one in Bossier City. Their finances are a mess, their president is in
prison and will be for life. Their VP is running it into the ground because he’s too busy shoving shit in
his veins. From what I can tell, the others don’t seem to be doing that and it appears as though they’re
trying to save their club.”
“The president able to get visitors?” I ask.
He nods his head. And this is why I love this nerdy little fuck in his Ray-Bans. He already has my
questions answered before I can ask them.
“You can,” he says. “I am looking at the other five clubs closer to the gulf and I think so far, three
of them would also be a sure thing for a patch-over,” he explains, then slides a stack of papers across
the desk to me. “Don’t think any of them at all would be hostile. They’re small. They would probably
welcome the protection.”
“Good,” I murmur, glancing at the names. “And west?” I ask.
“Got five more there that are good to go. All the research has been completed, it’s at the back.
Information on every member, everything you could want, plus I’ve scheduled a meet with all of the
presidents and you at once, next Friday.”
“Fuck me,” I grumble. “You’re building me a fucking empire, aren’t you?” I ask on a chuckle.
“You said you needed men, an army, and that’s what you’ll have.”
Shaking my head, I give him a smirk. Then I clear my throat before I lean over like I’m going to be
telling him a secret or some shit. Well, maybe it is a secret, hell if I fucking know the future or how
it’s going to play out.
“Need you to get me some information on a woman. Don’t know her last name, but I know where
she works.”
“What kind of information?” Bans asks.
Arching a brow, I clear my throat again. “Personal,” I say. “And this is between us, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agrees as he gets his phone out.
He always takes digital notes on his fucking phone, and I feel like a goddamn dinosaur because
never in my life have I ever thought to do that shit. I have about a million sticky notes all over my
desk for reminders, but my phone? Never entered my head.
When he’s ready, I give him everything that I know about Marilyn and when I mention Handles, he
lifts his gaze to meet mine, his brows raised high. Shaking my head, I clear my throat.
“She works for him, but she’s dancin’ down at the T.N.A. nights, and I want to know everything
that I can about her.”
He nods his head, then he stands and starts to make his way out of the room, except he pauses at
the doorway and looks back over his shoulder at me. His eyes are focused on mine, and I can read the
hesitation on his face.
 “She in any trouble?” he asks.
“Not with me,” I say.
He nods and a look of relief crosses his face, then he turns his head and walks out of the room.
Riff clears his throat at the door in Bans’s absence. I don’t know why my office is suddenly a
revolving door, but I lift my hand and motion for him to come inside.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“You really takin’ over a titty bar?” he asks.
“I should just hold church. None of y’all can keep nothin’ to yourselves.”
His mouth curves up into a smile and he sinks down in the chair across from mine. “Gotta say, I
ain’t mad about bein’ involved in a titty bar.”
“Bet you ain’t. No free shit though, don’t even try. Those women are there for a job and we might
own the business and the building, but they’re gonna have their own manager and we do not own the
staff.”
Riff holds his hands up in mock surrender and lets out a laugh. “Okay, Prez, damn.”
“Yeah,” I grunt.
I know without a doubt that I would not have been so fucking adamant about the women getting
paid and not giving any benefits if Marilyn weren’t one of them and I didn’t want to fuck her.
I do want to do just that, too. I want to take every fucking part of her, and I can’t help but wonder
what Bans is going to uncover. I hope whatever he finds, he finds soon, because I don’t know how
long I can stay away from her.
 CHAPTER FIVE

MARILYN

T hank God Mr. Nelson is not in the office today. I breathe out a sigh of relief to see that he’s left
me an email message saying he would not be able to come into the office, but to clear out a
block on Monday morning from nine until one in the afternoon.
It’s going to take some canceling and maneuvering, but I’m good with that because I didn’t have to
face him today. I would actually be good working from home for the foreseeable future, so that I never
have to be face to face with him again, but I don’t think that he would quite buy into that one.
The rest of the day, I spend focusing on work. I do some filing since I was seriously behind. I
return phone calls and reschedule Monday morning for Mr. Nelson. Fridays are my favorite days at
work, because the office usually closes at two and today is no different.
Shutting everything down, I grab my purse and hurry out of the building. This is the day that I go to
the grocery store and stock up for next week. With a growing boy, food does not last long in the house
anymore.
Plus, I can’t really buy a huge stock either, it’s a weekly shop and a hope and prayer that it lasts
the week. What used to be a bi-weekly shopping trip has turned into a weekly one. I’m flying through
the store, my list in hand and sticking to that list as I move through the aisles.
If I hurry, I can pick up Jefferson from school and head home. I am usually not able to pick him up
from school, typically he walks, but Fridays I try to make an exception. Tonight, we’ll be able to eat
dinner together before I go to work.
Fridays may be my favorite, but Saturdays are my second favorite when it comes to workdays.
Saturdays I get to go to his baseball games during baseball season and his basketball games during
basketball season. I’m able to spend the day with him. We eat lunch and dinner together and it’s
almost as if this is normal, like I’m a normal sister and he’s a normal teenager.
But as I check out at the store, I can’t help but think about Sundays. Those are my complete and
total favorite days ever. Even though I spend the entire day resting and cleaning the house, I still love
it because it’s a bit of normalcy in our otherwise chaotic lives.
The cashier announces my total and I nod my head as I dig through my purse. I have a whole stack
of ones and fives, there are a few tens mixed up in there too. It should be embarrassing as hell to
count out my grocery bill in ones and fives, but I lost the ability to be embarrassed when paying a bill
a long time ago.
Although, being embarrassed because my boss saw my ass and boobs… that is still something that
I don’t think I’ll ever not be embarrassed about. It could happen a million times and I will be
embarrassed every damn time.
“That’s a lot of change,” the guy behind the counter announces, his mouth turned up into a wide
smile.
Asshole.
I press my lips together, giving him what I can muster of a smile, then take my receipt and walk
away. I don’t have time for that, and it’s painfully clear he knew exactly where my money came from.
Hurrying to my car, I load everything into the back seat and start the engine, then roar out of the
Kroger parking lot and head straight for the high school. The pickup line is long, but I don’t mind,
because it’s also worth it.
Jefferson sees me before I see him, I happen to chance looking over to where kids are filing out of
a building and see that he’s jogging toward my car. Lifting my hand, I wave to him, then drop it when I
see a couple boys behind him laughing and pointing in his direction. I frown, wondering if I’ve just
committed a teenage-boy sin by waving to him in public and I instantly feel horrible.
Moving my hand to my lips, my eyes are wide as he throws the door open and sinks down in the
seat next to me. He slams the door and throws his head back against the headrest. I open my mouth to
ask him if he’s okay, but I decide first to start driving toward home instead.
“Did I do something wrong?” I finally ask when the school is no longer in view.
He shifts his head to the side, looking at me, but he doesn’t say anything right away. I keep my
hands on the steering wheel and drive straight ahead, waiting for his answer. I don’t know anything
about teenage boys, so I’m really hoping he’ll just tell me.
“It was nothing,” he says, and my hopes are dashed.
“Jefferson,” I say in my best warning tone.
He lets out a laugh, then a groan. “Those guys were just saying stupid shit. Pissed me off.”
“Don’t cuss like that,” I attempt to scold. He just scoffs. “Are they your friends? Are they bullying
you? Tell me what’s going on.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. I sit through a stoplight, then drive toward another one
before he speaks.
“They were talking about how hot you are. I guess they saw you come into the office when you
registered me a couple weeks ago and they just like to say shit about how hot you are. They’re just
assholes.”
I should not smile. Pushing my glasses up as they slip down my nose, I bite the inside of my cheek.
They were little boys, but I can’t help but feel a little puff of self-pride at the fact that at least
someone thought I was hot.
I mean, sure, I dance naked on stage, but that’s different. Men want to see nakedness, but that
doesn’t mean I’m necessarily pretty. Even if they’re intrigued by my shyness, that doesn’t mean that
they ever approach me. So, even though they’re little boys, it’s still a complete ego boost.

PREZ

B ringing the beer bottle to my lips, I look around the clubhouse. It’s a birthday party for Country.
There are whores in abundance, they are everywhere and naked. But none of them really do anything
for me.
There is only one woman that I want, and that singular thought bothers the shit out of me, the last
time I felt that way about any woman was with Luella’s mother and that was a fucking nightmare, for
me and Luella both. I’ve shut that part of me off, or at least I thought that I had. I guess nobody else
really did anything for me until now.
“You look like you’re thinkin’ really fucking hard,” Ironfist announces from next to me. Turning to
him, I give him a grin, then take another pull from my beer.
“Not really,” I mutter.
“Yeah, you’re full of shit, brother.”
“I am full of shit,” I admit. “But I also ain’t tellin’ you shit.”
Setting my half-empty beer down on the bar, I stand up and stretch slightly. He tilts his head to the
side, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at me, waiting for me to answer. He’s not going to
get it.
Taking a step toward him, I lift my arm and wrap my fingers around his shoulder, shaking him.
“I’m out for the night. See you later, yeah?”
“You coming to family day tomorrow?” he asks.
Since Luella and Magnolia, and the other brothers have all started settling down, we’ve been
doing a family day every Sunday. The club buys the food or pays an old lady back for the food, and
we all just enjoy the afternoon.
No club business, no whores, just us. Well… the whores show up after the families have left, we
haven’t suddenly become saints or anything.
“I’ll be there,” I say, then lift my hand and walk away.
He doesn’t ask me where I’m going, although I have no doubt that he’s curious as fuck. I could say
that I don’t know where I’m headed, but that would be a fucking lie. There is only one person I want
to be around, one person I’m curious about, and I can’t wait for Bans to get back with the information
on her.
I need to feel her tonight.
My bike goes exactly where I know that it should not—to the strip club. Like a creeper, I sit
outside on my bike, hiding against the side of the building of T.N.A. It’s going to be closing soon, the
front part of the parking lot is already empty, and the back is still full of the dancers’ cars.
There is a moment of silence, the building is quiet, there is no movement and I second-guess
myself, but then the back door opens, and I hear the women’s voices filter out as they talk among
themselves and make their way toward their cars.
I don’t see her right away, but then I recognize the asshole that was a little too close to her last
night when he walked her to her car. He’s there again, practically hovering over her, his body almost
touching her he’s so close.
I get a bad fucking vibe from him, although what the fuck does that say about me considering I’m
over here goddamn stalking her?
She turns to him, nodding her head a couple of times, and I’m too far away to see the look on her
face, but I have a feeling it isn’t a big welcoming smile, judging by her body language.
Then she slips into her car, having to shimmy between him and the door because he’s practically
got her pinned against her vehicle. The motherfucker is lucky that I’m standing this far away from him
right now.
When she starts her car, she backs away and drives off before I can even blink. Instead of
following her immediately, I wait for the other women to leave. The man is now alone, walking to his
beat-up pickup truck, and I decide to take care of him once and for all.
I can’t let him get away with whatever the fuck he has planned, because he no doubt has something
fucking planned. I can tell by the look on his face, by the way he watches her, stays a little too close to
her. But this fucker isn’t going to have an opportunity to go through with this plan, or any other.
Taking my knife out of my hip sheath, I hold it loosely at my side as I make my way up to him.
He’s got his back to me, opening his truck door, but doesn’t climb inside yet. He takes his phone out
and I watch as he looks down at it.
“Hey partner,” I call out.
His spine straightens and he spins around. I watch as he tosses the phone on the passenger seat,
his eyes wide as he looks at me. Obviously, he didn’t expect me, but if he’s bouncing at a strip club,
he should always be on the alert, especially after hours.
“Who wants to know?” he barks, as if that shit makes any sense at all.
“You got a problem with Marilyn?” I ask.
His lips curve up into a grin. “Hot piece, but she won’t fuck you. Been workin’ on her for months.
I’m almost in though.”
“Yeah? Didn’t look like it to me. Looked like you made her uncomfortable and was borderline
harassin’ her,” I say.
“Sometimes women need that, gotta wear her down, make her realize she really does want it.”
“Nope,” I state before I thrust my knife forward, right into his side. “Fuck that shit and fuck you.”
He gasps, his lips parted and his eyes wide in shock. I don’t give him a chance to recover, to try
to fight back. Maybe it’s a cheap shot, but I don’t give a fuck. He’s talking about hurting Marilyn and I
won’t have that shit. And if he would talk to me about hurting her that way, how many other women
has he done this to?
So, fuck that and fuck him. I end his ass right here in the middle of the fucking T.N.A. employee
parking lot. Going to Marilyn’s and claiming her for myself will have to fucking wait. This shit is
more important.
A lot fucking more important.
I don’t kill him because he’s competition, he’s anything but that. Marilyn will be mine with or
without this asshole being alive. I kill him because he’s a fucking predator. Nobody else needs to be
worn down by him.
 CHAPTER SIX

MARILYN

M y phone rings at noon. I’ve just finished watching Jefferson hit a double on the ball field and
he was freaking amazing. I want to celebrate, so I’m waiting for him to gather all of his
equipment and while I can’t afford to take him out to a fancy meal anywhere, I can take him
out for a pizza to share.
Reaching into my bag, I’m surprised to see that it’s Keith calling. He never calls me. Not ever. If
he has anything to say, he usually just calls us into his office when we’re actually at the club. Sliding
my thumb across the screen, I bring my phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
He doesn’t say anything immediately, I hear him clear his throat a couple of times and then I hear
what sounds like whimpering. I open my mouth to ask him if he’s okay when he finally starts to speak.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps. “So sorry, but Greg…” His voice trails off.
I close my eyes and a shiver of a mixture of fear and disgust slides down my spine just at the
mention of Greg. Last night he cornered me more aggressively than he’s ever done before. He
practically pressed himself against me. He whispered in my ear and told me that he would have me
soon.
He did scare me, but most of all, what he really did was creep me the fuck out.
“What about him?” I ask Keith, trying to get this conversation over with because the last thing that
I want to do is talk about fucking Greg.
“I’m so sorry. I know you have a special bond with him. He told me how close you two were, so I
wanted to tell you before I told the entire staff later,” he says, hiccuping. “His body was found in the
parking lot earlier. He’s gone, he was stabbed.”
Lifting my hand to my lips, it’s my turn to react. I let out a gasp and a sense of relief floods me
along with the guilt for that relief. I know that I should be really upset that someone hurt him, but I’m
not. I’m beyond relieved. He won’t be bothering me. He won’t make me feel uncomfortable. He
won’t be around to just plain scare me.
“Thank you for telling me,” I breathe.
“I just couldn’t not tell you first.”
I don’t want to lie to Keith, but I decide to keep the fact that Greg and I were not friends or
anything else, to myself.
“If you want the night off, I understand. I’ve called in extra security, but the police said we could
open by tonight.”
“No,” I practically cry out. “I can’t stay home tonight. I need to work,” I say.
“To keep your mind off of things, I completely understand. I’ve called in a private security firm
for the night as extra help. Byron can only be in so many places.”
Clearing my throat, I thank him, then end the call as Jefferson makes his way toward me. He gives
me an easy smile. He is so excited about his team’s victory, but more importantly for his part in that
victory.
“Celebratory pizza, Taco Bell, or Whataburger?”
He tilts his head to the side, squinting one eye as if he’s thinking, then something crosses his face.
It’s the look of disappointment and my heart sinks.
“No, nothing Mari. Let’s just go home. We can eat at the house, you just went shopping yesterday.”
Nope.
No way in hell.
Lifting my hand, I wrap my fingers around his shoulder and give him a little shake until I get his
attention. His eyes find mine and I hold his gaze. I will not have him think that because I have to work
two jobs that he has to deny himself anything at all. I work two jobs so that he doesn’t have to be
denied anything.
Sure, there are some things that I’ll probably never be able to get him, extravagant things, but I can
buy him some fucking fast food.
“I have money for a fast-food lunch, Jefferson. I don’t have money for a full-on steak dinner
somewhere, but I have money for a celebratory fast-food lunch.”
“Okay,” he says, gulping, and I can see the wetness swimming in his eyes.
Lowering my head, I rest my forehead against his and inhale a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
We stay like that for a moment, then I smile and lift my head, looking down at him.
“Whataburger,” he whispers. “Can I get a shake, too?”
“You hit a double. You can have a shake.”
His lips curve up into a huge smile, so big that the dimple in his right cheek appears. Together we
leave the ball field, and my little fifteen-year-old brother takes my hand in his. My heart fills to the
brim with love and pride and everything good in the world in this exact moment.
This is why I have him.
This is why I work two jobs. This moment right here, the baseball games, the Whataburger, the
endless stomach, and the endless clothes and shoes from growing. It’s all completely and totally
worth it. Every second.

PREZ

K eith calls me and I look at the phone, debating on answering him or not. In the end, I decide to go
ahead and take the call. I know what it’s going to be about. It’s going to be about his dead
bouncer, and it is. He informs me that his man is dead, and the police were there, processed, and left.
I probably shouldn’t have killed him there. Perhaps I shouldn’t have killed him at all, but I
couldn’t just let him continue to be a fucking problem and a predator.
 I thank him for the information, make sure that he’s still going to be at Handles’s office on
Monday, and end the call just as my door flies open.
Looking over, I watch as Magnolia, my granddaughter, comes flying toward me. Standing from my
chair, I bend my knees slightly and brace for her impact. She slams into me, but I pick her up before
she can knock me over and I twirl her around.
“Hey Maggie, baby. What’re you doing here?” I ask.
Lifting my head, I look over hers toward Luella, who is standing in the doorway with the baby on
her hip. Dash has his head resting on her chest and he doesn’t look well. Instantly, I fill with panic,
and I march toward my daughter and grandson.
“What’s wrong?” I demand.
She shakes her head, lifting her hand to his, and lets out a sigh. “He’s got a fever. I can’t get rid of
it. I’ve tried everything. I’m going to go ahead and take him in. The doctor said he could see us. Can
you watch her for a few hours?”
“Of course I can,” I say. “We’ll go and get an ice cream.”
Magnolia lifts her arms and shakes her hands. “Yay,” she cries out. “Ice cream.”
The girl is after my own heart. She loves ice cream as much as I do. She knows any time she’s
with me for any length of time, ice cream is always on the table.
Luella gives me a sweet smile and nods her head. “Thanks, August wants to go. He doesn’t think
it’s just a cold, he’s stressed out.”
“It’ll be fine, Lulu.”
“I know,” she says softly and I’m not sure if she’s trying to convince herself or me, or maybe the
both of us. “I like that I don’t have to do this alone.”
Giving her a smile, I start to say something when Bowie calls out her name. She gives me a small
smile before mouthing a thank you, then turns and walks out of the room. Looking over to Magnolia,
my full of energy, over-the-top granddaughter, I give her a grin.
“What should we do?” I ask.
“Ice cream first,” she announces. “Then, second stop, shopping,” she says.
“Where do you want to go shopping?” I ask, unsure of what a fucking almost-four-year-old would
want to goddamn shop for.
Her eyes light up and she gives me the biggest smile on fucking earth, then she lifts her hands,
cupping my cheeks, and leans forward as if she’s got a secret to tell me.
“Target,” she exhales.
I can’t help but chuckle, and for the millionth time, I thank God, or whoever is up there, for
bringing this joy to my life. This family. My daughter and granddaughter and now my grandson—my
world.
“Target it is, then.”
And that is how I spend my Saturday afternoon, going to fucking Target, after ice cream, and
shopping. I buy her a few dresses, some other clothes, a sparkly fucking purse, a couple pairs of new
shoes, and some toys.
I’m a goddamn sucker for this girl.
Though, I can’t deny that spoiling her is just as much for me as it is her. I love her. When I was
younger, I didn’t take care of my daughter the way that I should have. I didn’t appreciate everything
that comes with parenthood, and I feel incredibly blessed that Luella is back in my life. I didn’t
realize all that I was missing when it came to her, to what I could have. Also, that she’s brought
Magnolia with her, then she went and gave me Dash.
 They truly are my biggest fucking blessings, and I know without a doubt that I do not deserve
them.
 CHAPTER SEVEN

PREZ

T .N.A. is open for business. Apparently, a death in the parking lot doesn’t affect men wanting lap
dances or women needing to make money. I see a familiar car waiting in the parking lot and I
grin at the sight.
There are a few things that I should probably do. One of them is take my ass home, the other is
hide at the side of the building again. I do neither. Instead, I kick the stand down on my bike and walk
into the club.
There is more security than usual. The man checking IDs and taking the cover gives me a jerk of
his chin. He doesn’t give me the bad vibes that the fuck Greg did.
“Heard you’re taking over this place. I’m Byron. Greg and I were running the security here. Now
it’s just me. Keith hired some temporary help, but I can’t do this on my own.”
Nodding my head, I give him a small smile. Honestly, I was hoping to just slip in here tonight,
watch Marilyn, then try and fuck her. I’m sure that makes me sound like Greg, except if she were to
tell me no, I wouldn’t push it… I mean, she won’t, but if she did.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take that into consideration. You won’t be alone. I want this place to run
smoothly. Everyone needs to be and stay safe.”
He lets out a sigh, then nods his head a couple of times. “Thanks,” he exhales. “We got a good
bunch of girls and the last thing I want is for any of them to get hurt.”
“Agreed,” I mutter.
He gives me a big smile as I brush past him, then I head to the bar. I order a beer and walk over to
a darkened part of the club. I know that she won’t be able to see me from the stage in this spot.
I sit through three decent shows until I get to hers. Her music starts and she walks on stage. I know
it’s her before she even turns around.
There is definitely something about her. Something really fucking sexy. Something I have to taste
and feel. Something I need to control… at least for a while. I don’t know if it would be for forever,
but I need her.
When her dance is finished, I stand and make my way over to the waitress who is running around.
“Who do I talk to about a private room?” I ask her.
She tilts her head backward, her eyes stopping on my patch before she slowly drags her attention
up to meet my eyes. She presses her lips together, then slowly opens and closes her mouth before she
speaks.
“I can do that for you, who… who do you want?” she says, stumbling over her words.
“Marilyn, back room.”
Her eyes widen and she nods her head once. “Someone will meet you at the door to collect the
money. It’s two hundred.”
My brows lift at the same time my lips twitch into a small smile. “Send Keith, yeah?”
Without saying anything else, she dips her chin and rushes away in her high heels. Slipping into
the hallway, I make my way down toward the door at the end of the hall, the one that Handles used a
few days ago when he wanted to talk privately with Marilyn.
“I didn’t know you would be here tonight?” Keith calls out as he approaches me. “One of the girls
said that you wanted to have a private room with Marilyn?” he asks.
Smiling, I nod my head. “I’ve seen her around. I’d like to talk with her.”
“Do I want to know what’s going to happen in there? I’m supposed to have rules,” he announces.
“We have rules, and this place is swarming with cops.”
At least Keith isn’t a complete fucking dumbass. I shrug a shoulder. “How about… nothing that
isn’t consensual? And when she walks into that room, you take her off the clock?”
“We have laws we have to follow,” he murmurs. “You can’t have sex, no touching, and no paying
for extras. I run a clean club. You want a clean club?”
Leaning forward, I give him a grin. “Keith, I don’t rape women and I don’t pay for shit. So make
of that what you will.”
His eyes widen and he takes a step backward. I turn from him and walk into the back room,
closing the door behind me. There aren’t any windows in the room, but there is a picture on the wall
of a silhouette on a pole. Standing in front of it, I wait for her.

MARILYN

K eith makes his way over to me, just a few moments after I’ve put on my hot pants and am about to
mingle on the floor for lap dances. He reaches out, touching my forearm, and inhales a deep
breath before he speaks.
“I know you probably don’t want to, but there is a man waiting in the Black Room for you.”
All I can think about is Mr. Nelson waiting for me again and I suck in a breath.
“I know it’s hard,” Keith murmurs. “I know it’s been a hard day and you hate it, but you need to
go. He was insistent.”
He mistakes my hesitation and reaction for whatever he thinks that I felt for Greg. I should just tell
him the truth about that jackass, but I decide against it. At this point, it doesn’t even matter anymore. If
he wants to feel whatever the fuck he wants to feel about Greg, then I’m not going to burst his bubble,
Greg is gone anyway.
Instead, I just give him a small smile. “It’s okay,” I say softly.
He gives me a sad smile and releases my arm. “You know where the alarm button is if you need
help,” he reminds me.
I don’t know why he’s reminding me of this, he never has before, not that I go back there often. I
try really hard to stay on the floor and on the stage only. Inhaling a deep breath, I let it out slowly,
square my shoulders, and make my way toward the private room in the back of the club.
Music is thrumming throughout the room as I reach for the doorknob, and I know that Synergy is
on stage and she’s no doubt completely rocking it. She’s seriously amazing. I can’t quite do what she
does when she works that pole. She is completely dedicated to her craft.
Dropping my eyes, I push the door open and step into the room. Slowly, I lift my head up and see
him. Well, the back of a man. I recognize the vest, seeing the name Nasty Bastards MC across his
shoulder blades. Then curving along the bottom, it says Texas.
It’s not Mr. Nelson, but it’s one of his friends. One of the men from his MC, something that I didn’t
even know he was part of until just a few days ago. He’s looking at a framed picture on the wall and I
think that he doesn’t realize I’m here, until he turns around.
I suck in a breath at the sight of him. It’s the man I’ve been falling asleep dreaming about. He was
in Mr. Nelson’s office with several others. The sight of him then both terrified and intrigued me all at
the same time, just like it has every night in my dreams, just like it does this very moment.
I take him in, really look at him. He has dark-blond hair and striking blue eyes. He looks like he’s
at least in his thirties, but he wears whatever his age is well, because he’s beyond handsome. He’s
dare I think, beautiful even.
Rolling my lips together, my eyes drag down his body. His shoulders are wide, his waist thick but
I can tell he’s muscular. He’s sturdy, his jeans hugging his thighs as if they were made just for his
body, or rather that he’s worn them for so many years that they have molded to him perfectly.
“Marilyn,” he says, his voice is husky, it’s rough, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.
The way he says my name, it’s just… I have to press my thighs together. I don’t think I’ve ever had
to do that before from a man saying one single word… although maybe it had to do with the fact that
the only word he’s said is my name.
“That is my name,” I say, then bite the inside of my cheek at how ridiculous that just sounded.
His lips curve up into a grin, and he lets out a small chuckle. “I’m Hank,” he says, and damn if it
doesn’t fit him. It’s short and sweet, but sexy and manly all at the same time. Hank. Fucking shit.
“You called me back here for a dance?” I ask.
He shakes his head, his eyes finding mine, and then he slowly closes the distance between us. The
music fades into the background and all I can hear is each step of his heavy boots as they move
toward me.
“I did… and I didn’t,” he murmurs softly when he’s directly in front of me.
My breath hitches when he lifts his hand, and his fingertips skim the underside of my jaw. His
gaze holds mine. He doesn’t say anything right away. His eyes focus on my own, and his lips curve up
into a small smile.
“What exactly did you call me back here for?” I ask on an exhale.
He tilts his head to the side, his eyes never leaving mine and his lips curving up into a wide smile
beneath his beard. Fuck. He’s so damn hot. I didn’t think that a man dressed in jeans and leather could
be hot, a man who is clearly older than me, but he is and he’s amazingly beautiful.
“For so much more than a dance. I noticed you at Handles’s office, his sweet and shy secretary.
Then, I see you here and…” His eyes shift down to my bare breasts, well almost bare, my nipples are
covered in star-shaped pasties tonight. “You’re not so shy.”
“I’m still shy,” I breathe.
He chuckles, shifting forward, his lips almost touching mine but not quite. “I want you, kitten.”
Then his tongue slips out and slides along my bottom lip, then he tastes my top lip before that
same tongue slides into my mouth and he tastes me there, too. He wraps his arms around my back,
pulling me against his chest.
Hank’s teeth gently sink into my bottom lip as he breaks the kiss and I let out a whimper as he lifts
his head and looks into my eyes.
“What do you want?” I ask on a breathy whisper.
“You. Everything.”
“I don’t even know you,” I point out.
He lets out a chuckle. “You don’t, but your body doesn’t lie, Marilyn. Your thighs are squeezed
together, your eyes are dilated, you are breathing heavily. You want me. Every part of you wants me.”
Everything that he’s just said is one-hundred-percent true. I want him. I’m breathing heavily, my
thighs are squeezed together in an effort to relieve the ache in my center.
I know that if I tell him any of those things, it will give him power, and I’m not sure I want him to
have that kind of power over me. He’s essentially a stranger. So instead, I just look at him, refusing to
verbalize any kind of response.
He doesn’t really give a shit what I have to say, anyway. Instead of asking me any questions or
trying to say anything else to me, he kisses me. It’s long, hard, and deliciously wet. It’s downright
perfect and I find that I have to squeeze my thighs together even tighter by the time he breaks the kiss.
 CHAPTER EIGHT

PREZ

S he’s fucking perfect. She tastes goddamn amazing, too. I lower my head and touch my mouth to
hers again, I can’t get enough of her taste. Sliding my hands down her back to her ass, I moan at
the feel of her flesh in my palms.
Gripping her ass tightly, just that bit that peeks out from beneath her short shorts, I pull her hips
closer to mine, grinding myself against her. If I could will my goddamn jeans and her little shorts off
at the same time, so that I could slide inside of her, that would be fucking amazing.
With a grin, I nip her bottom lip and look down into her eyes. She’s breathing heavily, her chest
rising and falling with each breath, and fuck me, but her tits look amazing right now. Running my
tongue along my bottom lip, I watch her for another moment, then I clear my throat.
“Marilyn,” I rasp. “I gotta know how you feel, kitten.”
Her breath hitches, then she clears her throat and slides her tongue along her bottom lip before her
teeth sink into her flesh. Releasing one of her ass cheeks, I lift my hand and cup her cheek with my
palm, then slide my thumb across the apple of her cheek.
“I-I-I don’t even know you,” she exhales again.
Dipping my chin, I touch my mouth to hers but don’t deepen the kiss. “Your body is fucking
begging for it.”
She shakes her head, but she doesn’t shift away from me. Her lips are still pressed against my
own and her lips move back and forth. Fuck, I want more from her. I want to feel her soft lips pressed
against my dick, hell, against every fucking part of my body.
“If I slip my fingers between your thighs, you’d be wet for me, wouldn’t you?” I ask.
“Hank,” she cries out softly.
Hearing my name on her lips, I think it’s a sound that I could get really fucking used to. A little too
used to, but I’m not going to worry about that right now. The only thing that I really have on my mind
is the way her pussy feels wrapped around my dick, everything else can just fucking fade away.
“Yeah,” I grunt, squeezing her ass again, then my hand falls from her face and I prove my words
correct.
Slipping my hand down the front of her little shorts, I glide my fingers along her warm, wet pussy.
She is wet too. Smiling at her, I lean forward, brushing my lips against her cheek as I press them
against her ear.
“Drenched, kitten. Fucking drenched.”
Her breath hitches, but she’s already lost the fight. Sliding two fingers through her wet folds
again, I glide them inside of her, curling them before I press my thumb against her clit. As soon as the
pad of my thumb presses against her clit, her hands lift, and her fingers grip my shoulders.
With a gasp, her hips shift forward, and her head falls backward. Lifting my free hand from her
ass, I wrap my arm around her waist to hold her stable. Her little breathy gasps and hitches are sexy
as fuck, and I wish that we were in a bed so I could bury my face between her thighs.
Her hips start to move, her pussy flutters around my fingers and I grind my palm against her clit.
She’s so fucking close and I watch to see her face, I want to watch as she comes. I pause my
movements and she lifts her head, her eyes wide and wild.
“I want to see your face when you come all over my hand, kitten.”
Her eyes stay wide and wild, and she opens her mouth to say something, but I start to move my
fingers again, my palm grinding against her sensitive clit. It doesn’t take much, just a few curls of my
fingers and her hips buck once, twice, three times, and then her lips part and the sweetest fucking
sound escapes from them.
“Hank,” she breathes. “Oh my god.”
Leaning forward, I touch my mouth to hers. “Want to tell me that you don’t even know me?” I ask.
“I don’t.”
Stubborn woman. I smile, my lips still pressed against hers. “You’re about to, really fucking good
too.”

MARILYN

O h,even
holy Jesus. I should not be doing this, especially here at work, or at all. As I’ve said to him and
to myself, I don’t know this man, but as I reach for his pants, pulling on his belt, unbuttoning,
and unzipping his jeans, I shove them down his hips and ass and gasp at the size of his length.
Lifting my eyes, I shake my head. I open my mouth to tell him no, that I can’t do that. I’ve only
been with a couple men and none, absolutely zero of them looked quite that massive. He chuckles,
pushing my hot pants down.
I’m still in my heels and pasties are firmly in place on my nipples, but my shorts are off and Hank
has picked me up so that my legs are wrapped around his waist. He walks me backward until I feel
the solid door against my back.
He shifts his head back slightly. “Condom,” I breathe.
There is a slight pause, and I think that he’s going to say no, but then he moves one of his hands
and I feel him fumbling around. He brings a foil packet between us and holds it up to me. “Put it on,
kitten.”
I don’t hesitate, mainly because for whatever asinine reason, I really want this. I know that I
shouldn’t, and yet, I can’t stop myself from tearing open the foil packet and taking the rubber out. I
wonder if it’s going to fit.
Rolling the condom down his length, I can’t help but watch as it stretches around him. I don’t
know how, but it does actually fit and I’m glad, because I want him to be inside of me. Even if I know
that this is really stupid, he makes me feel, and I haven’t done that in a long time.
 “Please,” I breathe.
He grips right below my ass, holding on to the backs of my upper thighs as he lifts and situates me
the way that he wants me. I can feel the head of his cock against my center, and he starts to push
himself inside of me.
Holding on to his shoulders, my nails dig into his vest as he shifts closer to me, sinking deeper
inside—stretching me farther than I thought physically possible. He presses his lips against mine and
his tongue slides into my mouth.
Hank tastes me, but he doesn’t just give a quick kiss and then fuck me. He takes his time, as if he
has all night long in the Black Room with me. He consumes me as if he has been starving for a decade
and I’m his first morsel of food. My entire body relaxes, and I find that I’m no longer clenching my
jaw at his size.
Once he’s decided that I’ve adjusted to his girth, when I’m seconds from clawing at his leather
vest and begging for him to move, he finally does start to move.
Ripping my lips from his, I suck in a breath as he slowly moves in and out of my body. His eyes
find mine, those blue eyes that I think I could stare into for the rest of my life, and he fucks me. It’s
slow and steady, he takes his time just like he did with the kiss, except this seems bigger.
He is fucking me like he has all the time in the world. His hips move languidly, his attention is
mine and only mine, as if I’m the only woman on earth…
I don’t know where this man came from, I don’t know how dangerous he is, but I want to keep him
—forever. Yes, he’s clearly been around in this world longer than I have, but my god he knows how
to make me feel… everything.
“Kitten, put your hand between us, I want to feel you come around my dick.”
Jesus.
Those words.
“Hank,” I moan. “I’ve never…”
His lips curve up into a bad-boy grin, a grin that tells me everything and nothing all at once.
“Touch yourself for me, Marilyn. Let me see your face when you come again, it’s the prettiest thing
I’ve ever seen in my whole fucking life.”
The way he says it has my entire body on edge. As if he’s set fire to my nerve endings. His hips
swivel in his downstroke and I suck in a breath. If he notices, he doesn’t pause or even hesitate.
Slipping my shaky fingers between my thighs, I brush the back of my hand against his hip before
my fingers find my clit. Hank lets out a grunt, his gaze focused on mine and nowhere else. There is a
knock on the door and my lips part with a gasp. My eyes rolled into the back of my head, my heart
racing at the danger of the moment.
“Occupied,” Hank growls out.
“Time’s up,” Keith’s voice calls out.
I can’t stop my fingers from moving, I’m so close, so very close. I’ve never come twice in one
evening before like this, just moments between each orgasm. I need this more than I need to breathe
right about now.
“Just another minute,” I say, trying to keep my tone even, but no doubt failing.
Moving my hand, it doesn’t take much, one, two, three strokes from my fingers and I’m there. I cry
out softly and Hank fucks me. He doesn’t hold back, his hips move hard and fast, slamming against
mine.
I hear him grunt, then he slams himself deep inside of me, stilling. He buries his face in my neck,
breathing heavily as he continues to move inside of me. I can feel his cock twitching as his breath
tickles my neck.
Closing my eyes, I stupidly pull him closer to me. I want him. To keep him. This stranger that I let
inside of my body. This man who wears this leather vest with these patches that are a beacon for all
things bad. Except it feels so good. He feels so good.
Hank lifts his head, his eyes finding mine. “You’re trouble, Marilyn.”
I open my mouth to say something else when there is a loud bang on the door. Security announces
themselves and I gasp. Hank chuckles, stepping back and I feel the loss of him like a living, breathing
thing.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to continue my night, my life, without him inside of me and that
thought terrifies me.
 CHAPTER NINE

MARILYN

A fter Hank leaves, I slip into the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I am flushed,
my lips are swollen, and I can see red marks from where Hank’s beard deliciously scraped
against my skin.
Leaning forward, I grip the edge of the sink. What the fuck is wrong with me? I stupidly allowed a
customer, a paying customer to fuck me against the door of the private room? Gasping, I lift my head
and my eyes connect with the ones in my reflection.
“I’m a prostitute,” I breathe.
Oh god no. I’m going to be sick. This was exactly what I did not ever want to be. Tears fill my
eyes as I sink down to my ass in the middle of the dirty women’s bathroom of the club.
The words play on repeat, over and over. I’m unable to stop them. I’m everything I never wanted
to be. I knew that this second job choice was a slippery slope, but I didn’t think that this was
something I could ever do or be.
I’ve turned into my mother.
I’m a prostitute.
The door flies open, and I look up to see Synergy standing in front of me. “Oh my, honey, are you
okay?” she asks.
“No,” I whisper.
“What happened? Did someone hurt you?” she asks.
I can see the panic on her face, but I am having a hard time ensuring her that I’m okay. Synergy
reaches down, she wraps her hands beneath my arms and hoists me to my feet. I can’t believe that I’m
standing here, pasties still in place, little hot shorts and heels on and I’m wrapping my arms around
my friend.
“What happened?” she begs on a whisper.
Lifting my head, my watery eyes find hers. “I’m a prostitute.”
Synergy’s eyes widen and then she starts to giggle. She takes a step backward, her hand touching
her lips as she continues to laugh. “You?” she asks. “You’re joking, right? You are the least prostitutey
person in this whole place.”
“I had sex with someone in the Black Room tonight,” I admit on a whisper.
 Her eyes practically pop out of her head, but there is a different kind of expression that crosses
her face at the same time. She is in complete and total shock. I don’t blame her, I feel the same way.
Then her lips curve up into a smile.
“Was it that hot biker guy?” she asks.
Gulping, I look down at my feet and nod my head once. God, I am so stupid. So incredibly stupid.
“You know he didn’t pay, right? I mean, he told Keith to make sure you got what you needed for
the time away from the stage, but he didn’t shell over a damn dime.”
My head pops up, my lips parted, and my eyes wide. I am so confused, and I know that I look that
way to Synergy because she lets out a giggle. A giggle that takes over her entire fucking body.
I open my mouth again and snap it closed, unsure of what to even say at this point. She is laughing.
Hank didn’t pay me for my service. I don’t know what happened. I am completely and totally lost
about what just happened.
“You know I fuck Keith, right?” Synergy announces.
My entire body jerks because no, I did not know that. She laughs again, this time much softer. “I
love him, and he loves me. He made some bad investment decisions. Took a loan from that man that
was in here and can’t pay it back.”
Holy. Shit.
I feel like I say that to myself a lot, but I can’t not, there is just too much that has happened the past
couple of days. The tears have stopped flowing down my cheeks as she tells her story, but my lips are
still parted, this time in awe.
“Synergy?” I ask when she doesn’t continue right away.
She lifts her hand and cups my cheeks just the way that Hank did not long ago. “The man you just
slept with is, as of Monday, the new owner of the club. I don’t know why he did what he did. I can’t
answer any questions about him, but he is going to be taking over as of Monday.”
“He can’t,” I breathe.
She hums. “Keith lost everything. He’s got no choice.”
“What happens now?” I ask.
She shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe you’ll get some preferential treatment,” she says, then lets out a
laugh. “But you’re not a whore, Marilyn. You are a fucking saint and the sweetest and cleanest woman
in this whole ass place. Don’t ever try to make yourself out to be anything less than an angel sent
straight from God himself.”
“Can I keep you around forever just to tell me how wonderful I am?” I ask.
She opens her arms and wraps them around me again, her cheek touching mine before she
murmurs next to my ear.
“You’ll never get rid of me. We’re sisters, Marilyn.”

PREZ

I watch her climb into her car, then she starts the engine and turns the headlights on. I don’t know
why, but it bothers me that her car is too old to have automatic headlights. She should be driving
around something fucking decent. This looks like it’s going to give up at any given fucking moment.
I’m unable to just let her drive away and into the night. I follow her, like the fucking stalker,
creeper, that I am. Riding through the crisp night air, I wonder if this woman is more than just a fuck
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
{329}

"The process may be tedious, but it is not costly. Lawyers are

not employed as counsel before either the boards or the court
unless all parties to the action agree thereto, and they very
seldom do agree. A firm of employers may appear by a manager
or accredited representative, a trade union is usually
represented by its Secretary or other official. During the
hearing, of course, the factories concerned remain open, and
work goes on as usual. Employers are secured not only against
a dead stop of business, but against the meaner kinds of
competition of undercutting rivals. In the organized trades
all the shops of a district have to keep the same hours and
pay the same wages. No man may filch trade from a neighbor by
sweating his own people. The fair-minded employer now knows
where he is, and is freed from many anxieties.

"For six years there has virtually been neither strike nor
lockout in New Zealand. All these, except the first, have been
years of remarkable and increasing prosperity. During the time
of depression which came before them, wages had fallen. With
improving times employers would have been faced by resolute
demands from trade unions for a return to former high rates of
pay, and had there been no arbitration system in working order
a series of very bitter conflicts must have ensued. This has
been avoided. Workmen and workwomen have gained notable
advances of pay, and also improved conditions as to hours of
labor and otherwise. But this has come about gradually, and
only after careful and painstaking inquiry. Many of the
demands of labor have been refused; many more have been
modified. In no case has an industry been throttled or
crippled. Not only can we claim that no factory has been
closed for a single day in New Zealand by labor war, but we
can claim that the peace thus obtained has not been bought at
the dear price of hampered industry and discouraged
enterprise.
"When the Arbitration act came into operation the number of
hands returned as employed in the registered factories was
about 26,000. It is now not far short of 50,000. A percentage
of this striking increase may be due to more thorough
registration. Far the larger part of it represents an actual
increase of industry. During these years the imports and
exports of the colony have grown apace. The revenue received
from the customs, from the income tax, from the stamps, and
the railways has risen in each case rapidly. Employment from
being scarce has grown plentiful. Building has been brisk in
all centres of population. The marriage rate has gone up. In a
word, New Zealand shows all the signs which we connect with a
highly prosperous country. It would be too much to claim that
this is chiefly due to the working of the Arbitration act. It
is perfectly fair, however, to claim that the Arbitration act
and the improved condition of labor, and of confidence which
it has brought about, have had some share in leading up to
this happy state of things.

"It is frequently asked, How could you possibly enforce an

award of the Arbitration Court upon an employer or a union
stubbornly determined to go to all lengths rather than obey
it? In the first place, for nearly five years the law has been
in constant use without a single exhibition of this desperate
resistance. That alone should be evidence of some weight that
such a duel is not likely in a British community. It is quite
true that an employer could go out of business rather than
obey an award, and that the court could not prevent him from
doing so. But employers are not given to ruining themselves
merely because they may not like the decision of an impartial
tribunal. It is suggested that the decision itself might be
ruinous. There need be no fear of that. Experience has shown
that if arbitrators err at all it is almost invariably in the
direction of overcaution. They may show too great a desire to
'split the difference'; they are not in the least likely to
impose intolerable conditions either upon masters or men. An
 employer who has the choice between accepting a legal decision
arrived at after painstaking inquiry, and being taken into
court and fined, will almost always accept the decision. In a
very few cases he may run the risk of being fined once, but he
will not lay himself open to a second penalty. That is the New
Zealand experience.

"On the other hand, it has been flatly declared that the court
cannot coerce trade unions. Vivid pictures have been painted
of the tragic absurdity of endeavoring to collect fines from
trade unionists by distraining on the goods of poor workmen
whose union is without funds, and who are themselves
penniless. The answer to that is that poverty-stricken unions,
composed of penniless workers, are only too thankful to accept
the decision of a State tribunal. They cannot strike against a
powerful employer; much less can they hope to starve out a
court of arbitration. Its decision may not altogether please
them, but it is all they are likely to get. The Arbitration
Court, therefore, is as potent to deal with trade unions as
with employers. Wealthy unions it can fine. Penniless unions
are helpless to fight it. Finally, at its back is the mighty
force of public opinion, which is sick of labor wars and
determined that the experiment of judicial adjustment shall
have a full and fair trial."

The full text of the New Zealand "Industrial Conciliation and

Arbitration Act" is published in pamphlet form by the United
States Department of Labor, and appeared also in one of the
Bulletins of the Department, in 1900.

NEW ZEALAND:
Land system.

"The Crown lands of New Zealand are administered under 'the

land act, 1892,' and the regulations made thereunder. The
distinguishing features of the present land system are the
outcome of ideas which have been gradually coming to maturity
 for some years past in this colony. These features involve the
principle of State ownership of the soil, with a perpetual
tenancy in the occupier. This, whatever may be the difference
in detail, is the prevailing characteristic of the several
systems under which land may now be selected. In New Zealand,
this tendency to State ownership has taken a more pronounced
form than in any other of the Australasian colonies, and the
duration of the leases has become so extended as to warrant
the name, frequently given to them, of 'everlasting leases.'
In point of fact, most of the Crown lands are now disposed of
for terms of 999 years. The rentals are based on the assessed
value of the land at the time of disposal, without increase or
recurring valuations.
{330}
Under this system there is a fixity of tenure practically
equal to freehold, and which, like freehold, necessarily
carries with it the power of sale, sub-lease, mortgage, or
disposition by will. Since all lands held under the Crown 'by
lease in perpetuity' are subject to the land tax, the
necessity for the periodical revaluations under the
perpetual-lease system is done away with, the State reaping
the advantage of the unearned increment through the
before-mentioned tax. At the same time, the improvements made
in the soil by cultivation, etc., are secured to the tenant.

"The advantages of this system to the selector are manifest.

When it is taken into consideration that, with few exceptions,
the Crown lands are, in their prairie condition, incapable of
producing anything until brought into cultivation, the
advantage to the settler of setting free his capital to
develop the capabilities of the soil, rather than having to
expend it in the purchase of a freehold, is very apparent. One
of the most striking benefits of this system is the advantage
it gives to the poor man, who, with little more capital than
his strong right arm, is enabled to make a home for himself,
which, under the freehold system, he is frequently unable to
accomplish. The values placed on the Crown lands are, as a
rule, low, for the State does not so much seek to raise a
revenue directly therefrom as to encourage the occupation of
the lands by the people; this secures indirectly an increased
revenue, besides other advantages, resulting from a numerous
rural population.

"Again, underlying the whole of the New Zealand land system is

a further application of the principle of 'the land for the
people,' viz, the restriction in area which any man may hold.
This subject has been forced upon the attention of the
legislature by defects in former systems, under which one
individual with means at his command could appropriate large
areas, to the exclusion of his poorer fellow-settler. Under
conditions where the price at which the land is offered is
fixed and where choice of selection is by ballot, the poor
settler has the same chance as the rich one and may, should he
wish it, hold as much land. The limit that a selector may hold
is so fixed as to encourage the class of small farmers, and up to
that limit the amount he may select is left entirely to
himself. The act defines the amount of land anyone may select
at 640 acres of first-class or 2,000 acres of second-class
land, inclusive of any land he may already hold. These limits
apply to lands which are thrown open for 'free selection,' as
it is termed, but in some cases, where found desirable, the
limit is by regulation made much smaller.

"In addition to the many advantages offered by the

'lease-in-perpetuity' system, the land act provides others to
meet the wants of different classes. The rule is almost
invariable that land thrown open for so-called 'free
selection' is offered to the public under three different
tenures, and the choice left entirely to the would-be settler.
The three tenures are:

(1) For cash, in which one-fourth of the purchase-money is

paid down at once, and the remainder within thirty days. The
title does not issue until certain improvements have been made
on the land.

(2) Lease with a purchasing clause, at a 5-per-cent rental on

the value of the land; the lease being for twenty-five years,
with the right to purchase at the original upset price at any
time after the first ten years.

(3) Lease in perpetuity, at a rental of 4 per cent on the

capital value, as already described above.

"The present [1895] land laws have been in force since the 1st
of November, 1892, and, therefore, the returns of the
Department of Lands and Survey for the year ending the 31st of
March, 1895, will give a fair idea of the proportions in which
lands are selected under the three tenures above described
during the past two and a half years. The figures given below
include the 'special settlements,' all of which must by law be
held on lease in perpetuity:

(1) Selected for cash, 1,542; area, 110,570 acres.

(2) Occupation with right of purchase, 1,060; area, 236,270

acres.

(3) Lease in perpetuity, 3,224; area, 634,086 acres.

"'The land act, 1892,' provides for a special class of

settlement, which has found favor with the public to a very
considerable extent during the last two years. This is known
as the 'small-farm association' system. It provides that,
where not less than twelve individuals have associated
themselves together for mutual help, such an association can,
with the approval of the Minister of Lands, select a block of
land of not more than 11,000 acres, but there must be a
selector to each 200 acres in the block. The extreme limit
that one person may hold is fixed at 320 acres. Settlements of
this class are held on 'lease in perpetuity' for 999 years, in
 the same way as lands under the same tenure when thrown open
for free selection. The conditions of residence and
improvements are the same."

S. Percy Smith,
in New Zealand Official Year-Book, 1895
(reprinted in United States Consular Reports,
January, 1897, page 4).

NEW ZEALAND: A. D. 1899.

Old-Age Pension Act.

In the winter of 1899 an old-age pension act was added to the

radical legislation of New Zealand. The Agent-General for New
Zealand in England has described the measure in a review
article, as follows: "As finally licked into shape, the act is
one for giving a small pension to the poorest section of aged
colonists without any contribution on their part whatever.
Briefly summarized, its effect will be that any New
Zealander—man or woman—who has come to the age of sixty-five,
after living not less than twenty-five years in New Zealand,
shall be entitled to 6s. 11d. a week, or £18 a year. The full
pension is to be paid to those whose income from any source is
less than £34. When the private income is above £34 a year £1
is deducted from the pension for every £1 of such excess
income. When, therefore, the private income is large enough to
be £18 a year in excess of £34 no state pension is paid. In
other words, no one who has an income of £52 a year is
entitled to even a fraction of the pension. A rather more
elaborate portion of the act deals with deductions to be made
from the pension where the applicant for it is possessed of
accumulated property. Under this the applicant's real and
personal property are assessed, and his debts, if any, are
subtracted from the total value thereof. Then he is allowed to
own £325 without suffering any deduction therefor. After that
he loses £1 of pension for every £15 worth of accumulated
property. The result is that any one possessed of £600 worth
 of accumulated property ceases to be entitled to any allowance
whatever. Men and women are equally entitled to the pension, and
where a husband and wife are living together their property or
income is divided by two for the purpose of the calculations
above mentioned. That is to say, their united income must
amount to £104 or their united property to £1,200 before they
are altogether disentitled to any part of the pension. They
may have, between them, an income of £68, or as much as £650
of property, and yet be entitled to draw their respective
pensions in full."

{331}

The government is only authorized to pay the required amounts

during three years from the passage of the Act, after which
Parliament will have to decide on its continuance or
amendment. Mr. Reeves expects that "the opposition will, more
or less in unison, submit a rival old-age pension scheme to
the constituencies. One of their prominent members, Mr. George
Hutchison, indicated in the debate on the third reading of the
measure scheme which some think will be generally adopted by
his party. This is to draw a distinction between the older
poor of the colony now living and the younger generation of
colonists. All now over fifty years of age are to be permitted
as they attain sixty-five to take advantage of Mr. Seddon's
act without let or hindrance. But for the younger people a
contributory scheme is to be drawn up, under which they would
have to pay some such sum as sixpence a week, to go in aid of
a substantial pension in their old age. Whatever may be
thought of the economic merits of such a scheme, it might
conceivably be expected at election-time to disarm the
hostility of the aged poor to any such interference with their
prospects under the present system as would be entailed by a
complete repeal of the Seddon act."

National Review, February, 1899.

NEW ZEALAND: A. D. 1900 (March).
Looking towards federation with Australia.

New Zealand did not take part in the movements which led to
the federation of the Australian colonies in the Commonwealth
of Australia, but watched them with evident interest and a
final wakening of inclination to be joined in union with them.
When the Act of the Imperial Parliament "to constitute the
Commonwealth of Australia" was under discussion in England
(see, in this volume, AUSTRALIA: A. D. 1900), the
Agent-General for New Zealand in London addressed to the
Colonial Office (March 30, 1900) the following Memorandum,
which explains the attitude of that colony towards the
federation movement in Australia: "The Government of New
Zealand desires to secure the insertion of certain amendments
in the Commonwealth of Australia Constitution Bill shortly to
be laid before the Imperial Parliament. These amendments are
three in number. The first of them is, in effect, that New
Zealand should preserve the right of joining the proposed
Commonwealth of Australia on the same terms as the original
States now about to be united in such Commonwealth. The second
is, that while New Zealand remains outside the Commonwealth,
litigants in her higher Courts, though reserving the right
they now possess to appeal to the Queen in Council, should, as
an alternative, have the right to appeal to the High Court of
Australia on paying the fees and complying with the rules of
that tribunal. The third amendment is, that the Australian
Commonwealth and the Colony of New Zealand should be empowered
to make the necessary arrangements to employ their naval and
military forces for mutual aid and defence, including
operations outside their own boundaries, and for that purpose
to co-operate in forming a homogeneous Australasian force.

"The importance of the first amendment to New Zealand is

great. The Colony is divided from Australia by 1,200 miles of
unbroken sea. It still takes from four to five days for
persons quitting New Zealand to reach any port in Australia.
Though a large and valuable trade is carried on between the
two countries, and though New Zealand is linked to Australia,
not merely by financial ties, but by bonds of intercourse,
cordial friendship, and sympathy, she has also vital and
separate interests. Many, also, of the leading matters on
which the discussions on Federation in Australia during the
last 12 years have turned are topics with which the New
Zealand people is almost unacquainted. It is therefore only to
be expected that the Colony should watch the Federal movement
with caution and reserve. It is also true that, until June of
last year, New Zealand was unable to judge as to the
intentions of the great Colony of New South Wales with regard
to the Commonwealth Bill. It was not until the month of
September that Queensland decided to enter the Commonwealth;
Western Australia has not even yet done so. And it was
directly after the decision of Queensland had become known
that, in response to a request from Sir John Forrest, the
leading statesmen of Australia intimated that, in their
opinion, it was impossible to consider any further amendments
of the Commonwealth Bill. From that moment the only course
left open to New Zealand has been that now taken. About that
time there appeared in New Zealand evidences of the growth of
a feeling in the Colony in favour of a closer union with
Australia. This was on the eve of the general elections, and
Mr. Seddon, the Prime Minister, then defined his position,
stating that the future relations of New Zealand with
Australia were a matter for education and careful examination:
that for himself he kept an open mind, but that prudent
deliberation was advisable. At the general elections which
took place in December last, Mr. Seddon was returned to power
with an unusually large majority. It may therefore very safely
be assumed that this cautious but not hostile attitude fairly
represents the present view of the people of the Colony. Some
stress may be laid on the foregoing facts in view of the
possible objection that New Zealand's action now comes too
late. The Colony virtually asks that, in view of its position
of distance and difficulty, it should have more time given it
 to make up its mind than has been found necessary by colonies
which are contiguous or almost so. If it should be proposed to
fix a limit of time to this, that would clearly be a matter
for reasonable consideration.

"In so far as the second amendment would give certain New

Zealand litigants a right of resort to the High Court of
Australia, it is scarcely likely to meet with objection in
Australia unless on the general ground that no amendment
whatever of the Commonwealth Bill is now desirable. In the
event of the amendment being admitted, it is obvious that
certain precautions might have to be taken to conserve the
existing rights of New Zealand litigants, and also to prevent
clashing of appeals, but doubtless these could be provided
for. The third amendment, that providing for a species of
partial federation for purposes of defence and mutual
assistance, seems not only desirable but unobjectionable in
every way.
{332}
It does not propose that any kind of compulsion should be
applied to either the Commonwealth or New Zealand: it merely
empowers them to make such arrangements as may be deemed
mutually advantageous. At present it seems more than doubtful
whether either the Commonwealth or the Colony has the power to
make simple, binding and effective arrangements which would
involve operations and expenditure outside their own
boundaries, and under which each would have to act so as to
affect colonists not subject to their respective
jurisdictions. Recent events have clearly shown that the time
has passed by for regarding the military forces of a colony as
something never to be employed outside of its own boundaries. I
need not point out that such a co-operation would be of value
not only to Australia and New Zealand, but to the Empire which
both are so anxious to serve."

The reply of the Colonial Office to this Memorandum set forth

that its suggestions had been submitted to the delegates of
 the federating colonies and did not meet their approval. "They
pointed out that during the period of grace proposed to be
allowed circumstances might arise which would cause grave
embarrassment to the Commonwealth if it were open to New
Zealand to claim admission on the same terms as the original
States, and that Article 121 of the draft Bill provided
sufficiently for the admission of New Zealand at any time upon
such conditions as might be found mutually acceptable to the
Colony and the Commonwealth." It was added that "the suggested
amendments as to the appeal from New Zealand Courts to the
High Court of Australia, and the arrangements for mutual
defence, would, if undertaken now, lead to great delay, and
involve a fresh referendum to the people of the Federating
Colonies, while there does not appear to be any probability
that the Federation would not favourably entertain any
proposals of the kind, if put forward after Federation."

In the Constitution Act as passed, however, New Zealand is

mentioned specifically among the "States" to which its
provisions may apply, though not included in what relates to
the "Original States."

See (in this volume)

CONSTITUTION OF AUSTRALIA.

Great Britain, Parliamentary Publications

(Papers by Command:
Cd. 158, 1900, pages 30-31, and 51).

NEW ZEALAND: A. D. 1900 (October).

Annexation of the Cook Islands.

A correspondent of the "London Times," writing from Rarotonga,

the largest of the Cook (or Hervey) Islands, on the 10th of
October, 1900, reported the arrival there of the Earl of
Ranfurly, Governor of New Zealand, for the purpose of
effecting the annexation of the islands to that colony, in
accordance with the expressed wish of the natives. "Lord
Ranfurly," he writes, "landed this morning, and, as the
representative of her Majesty, addressed the Arikis, or high
chiefs, on the question of annexation, for which they had
asked. This is his second visit to the island, and he
congratulated the people on now finding such a satisfactory
condition of affairs in Rarotonga. He expressed pleasure at
their liberality in subscribing so large a sum of money for
the relief of those families who, in the fortunes of the war
in South Africa, might lose their main support, and in sending
one of their representative residents to represent them on the
field of battle. All this and much more about the interest
they took in the British Empire the Queen was aware of, and
their petition for annexation had been laid at the foot of the
Throne and duly considered. He urged them, however, to
consider carefully their decision in this matter, and,
further, that it should be arrived at of their own free and
untrammelled will. He had heard from the British Resident that
the high chiefs and all the people wanted annexation, but he
wished to hear it from their own lips. It would then remain
but for them to perform the act of cession to her Majesty, and
for him formally to annex the group, hoisting the British
flag, and proclaiming that from henceforth they were part of
the British Empire whose prestige and honour they would from
that moment share. The high chiefs unanimously agreed to
annexation. … There are 2,300 Maoris on this island and 70
Europeans. All are intensely loyal to Queen Victoria. The
island was discovered in 1823 by Messrs. Williams and Bourne,
two officers of the London Mission Society, which for many
years has had its headquarters for the Eastern Pacific located
here. The volcanic soil of the island is marvellously fertile,
coffee, cocoa, cotton, oranges, limes, cocoanuts and many
other tropic fruits and trees growing without almost any
cultivation. A British protectorate was declared over the
group by Captain Bourke, of H. M. S. Hyacinth, in 1888. Since
1892 the interests of the protectorate have been guarded and
directed by a British Resident, paid by the New Zealand
 Government, so that the islands will now probably be included
within the boundaries of that colony. Nearly the whole of the
trade is with New Zealand. There are six islands in the group
annexed [700 miles southeast of Samoa] the total population of
which is about 4,500." The "Times," commenting on the
annexation, remarked: "The New Zealand Legislature has passed
resolutions expressing its desire that the Suwaroff Island, to
the north of the Cook group and about half-way to the Penrhyn
group, should also be annexed to the colony. This island,
although thinly inhabited, is said to possess one of the best
ports in that part of the Pacific. The only quarter from which
any protest against the acquisition of the Cook Islands has
come so far seems to be New South Wales, which fears the
influence of the introduction of the New Zealand tariff on its
trade with that place."

----------NEW ZEALAND: End--------

NIAGARA, Electric power at.

See (in this volume)

SCIENCE, RECENT: ELECTRICAL.

NICARAGUA.
Nicaragua Canal.

See (in this volume)

CENTRAL AMERICA; also,
CANAL, INTEROCEANIC; and
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA: A. D. 1899-1901.

NICHOLAS II. OF RUSSIA:

Coronation.

See (in this volume)

RUSSIA: A. D. 1896 (MAY-JUNE).
NICHOLSON'S NEK, Battle of.

See (in this volume)

SOUTH AFRICA (THE FIELD OF WAR):
A. D. 1899 (OCTOBER-DECEMBER).

NIFFER,
NUFFAR, Explorations at.

See (in this volume)

ARCHÆOLOGICAL RESEARCH: BABYLONIA: AMERICAN
EXPLORATION.

{333}

NIGERIA: A. D. 1882-1899.
History of the formation of the Niger Coast Protectorate.
Conventions of Great Britain with Germany and France.
Settlement of the boundary of the French Sudan and
Sahara Sphere.

The following "Notes on the Niger Districts and Niger Coast

Protectorates, 1882-1893," tracing the several steps by which
the existing Protectorate was formed, appear in a paper
"presented to both Houses of Parliament by command of Her
Majesty, 1899 (C.—9372)":

"In 1882 a Company, entitled the 'National African Company,

Limited,' was formed to take over the business of the 'United
Africa Company, Limited,' in Central Africa and in the Niger
Regions. In October, 1884, the Company purchased the business
and objects of the 'Compagnie Française de l'Afrique
Equatoriale.' In the same year various treaties were concluded
between Consul Hewett and native chiefs of the Niger Districts,
by which these territories were placed under British
protection. On the 26th February, 1885, the General Act of the
Berlin Conference was signed, Chapter V. of which contained an
'Act of Navigation for the Niger,' which applied, generally,
to the Niger and its affluents the free navigation articles of
the Final Act of the Congress of Vienna of 1815. In
April-June, 1885, the British and German Governments entered
into an Agreement, by an exchange of Notes, defining their
respective spheres of action in the Gulf of Guinea. By this
Agreement Germany engaged not to make acquisition, accept
Protectorates, or interfere with the extension of British
influence in that part of the Gulf of Guinea lying between the
right river bank of the mouth of the Rio del Rey entering the
sea between 8° 42' and 8° 46' longitude east of Greenwich and
the British colony of Lagos, nor in the interior, to west of a
line following the right river bank of the Rio del Rey from
the said mouth to its source, thence striking direct to the
left river bank of the Old Calabar or Cross River, and
terminating, after crossing that river, at the point about 9°
8' of longitude east of Greenwich, marked 'Rapids' on the
English Admiralty chart.

"On the 5th June, 1885, a Notification was inserted in the

'London Gazette' to the effect that a British Protectorate had
been established over the Niger Districts; the territories
comprised within the Protectorate were defined to be—the line
of coast between the British Protectorate of Lagos, and the
right or western bank of the mouth of the Rio del Rey; and
also the territories on both banks of the Niger, from its
confluence with the River Benué at Lukoja to the sea, as well
as the territories on both banks of the River Benué, from the
confluence up to and including Ibi. On the 10th July, 1886, a
Royal Charter was granted to the 'National African Company,
Limited.' In July-August, 1886, a Supplementary Agreement was
entered into between the British and German Governments
defining their respective spheres of action in the Gulf of
Guinea from the Rio del Rey to a point to the east and near to
Yola. On the 18th October, 1887, another Notification was
inserted in the 'London Gazette,' in which it was stated that
the British Protectorate of the Niger Districts then comprised
the following territories:—On the line of coast between the
British Protectorate of Lagos and the right or western river
bank of the mouth of the Rio del Rey, and all territories in
the basin of the Niger and its affluents, which were or might
be for the time being subject to the government of the
'National African Company, Limited' (then called the 'Royal
Niger Company'), in accordance with the provisions of the
Charter of the said Company, dated 10th July, 1886.

"On the 5th August, 1890, a Declaration was signed by the

British and French Governments, which contained the following
clause:—'The Government of Her Britannic Majesty recognises
the sphere of influence of France to the south of her
Mediterranean Possessions up to a line from Say on the Niger
to Barrawa on Lake Tchad, drawn in such manner as to comprise
in the sphere of action of the Niger Company all that fairly
belongs to the kingdom of Sokoto; the line to be determined by
Commissioners to be appointed.' On the 1st July, 1890, another
Agreement was entered into between the British and German
Governments defining their spheres of influence in the Gulf of
Guinea and in other parts of Africa. On the 18th June, 1892,
that portion of the Niger Protectorate which lies on, or to
the north of, the 7 degree of north latitude was, by
notification to the Signatory Powers of the Brussels Act,
placed under the terms of Article 91 of that Act, within the
zone of prohibition of alcoholic liquors. On the 14th April,
1893, an agreement was signed between the British and German
Governments, in which it was declared that the right bank of
the Rio del Rey waterway should be the boundary between the
Oil Rivers Protectorate and the Colony of the Cameroons.

"On the 13th May, 1893, a Notification was inserted in the

'London Gazette,' announcing that the portion of the British
Protectorate of the Niger Districts which was under the
administration of Her Majesty's Commissioner and Consul would,
from the date of that Notification, be administered under the
name of the 'Niger Coast Protectorate,' and would cease to be
 known as the 'Oil Rivers Protectorate.' And on the 15th
November, 1893, a further Agreement was signed between the
British and German Governments defining the boundary between
their respective spheres of influence in the region extending
from the Rio del Rey to 'a point to the east of, and close to
Yola,' and on Lake Chad.

"Between 1884 and 1893 numerous Treaties were concluded by the

National Africa Company and by the Royal Niger Company with
native Chiefs and others possessing territories in the basin
of the Niger districts, by which they engaged to make no
cession of territory or to enter into any Treaty negotiations
with Foreign States without the previous consent of the
British Government, and in return for which they were placed
under British protection."

Great Britain,
Parliamentary Publications
(Papers by Command, C.—9372).

{334}

In October, 1897, after a number of threatening collisions

between English and French claims and undertakings had
occurred in the Niger region, representatives of the two
nations met in Paris to negotiate an agreement concerning
boundaries. The result of their work was embodied in a
convention signed June 14, 1898, but not ratified by both
governments until June 13, 1899. By this agreement, the
frontiers separating the British colony of the Gold Coast from
the French colonies of the Ivory Coast and Sudan, and the British
colony of Lagos from the French colony of Dahomey, were
defined with precision, and the British and French possessions
east of the Niger were then in the IVth article of the
Convention, delimited as follows: Starting from a point on the
left bank of the Niger which is fixed by the median line of
the Dallul Mauri at its mouth, "the frontier shall follow this
median line until it meets the circumference of a circle drawn
from the centre of the town of Sokoto with a radius of 100
miles (160,932 metres). From this point it shall follow the
northern are of this circle as far as its second intersection
with the 14th parallel of north latitude. From this second
point of intersection it shall follow this parallel eastward
for a distance of 70 miles (112,652 metres); then proceed due
south until it reaches the parallel of 13° 20' north latitude,
then eastward along this parallel for a distance of 250 miles
(402,230 metres); then due north until it regains the 14th
parallel of north latitude; then eastwards along this parallel
as far as its intersection with the meridian passing 35° east
of the centre of the town of Kuka, and thence this meridian
southward until its intersection with the southern shore of
Lake Chad. The Government of the French Republic recognizes,
as falling within the British sphere, the territory to the
east of the Niger, comprised within the above-mentioned line,
the Anglo-German frontier, and the sea. The Government of Her
Britannic Majesty recognizes, as falling within the French
sphere, the northern, eastern, and southern shores of Lake
Chad, which are comprised between the point of intersection of
the 14th degree of north latitude, with the western shore of
the lake and the point of incidence on the shore of the lake
of the frontier determined by the Franco-German Convention of
the 15th March, 1894."

On the 21st of March, 1899, the following Declaration was

added to the Convention, and ratified with it in the following
June: "The IVth Article of the Convention of the 14th June,
1898, shall be completed by the following provisions, which
shall be considered as forming an integral part of it:

"1. Her Britannic Majesty's Government engages not to acquire

either territory or political influence to the west of the
line of frontier defined in the following paragraph, and the
Government of the French Republic engages not to acquire
either territory or political influence to the east of the
same line.

"2. The line of frontier shall start from the point where the
boundary between the Congo Free State and French territory
meets the water-parting between the watershed of the Nile and
that of the Congo and its affluents. It shall follow in
principle that water-parting up to its intersection with the
11th parallel of north latitude. From this point it shall be
drawn as far as the 15th parallel in such manner as to
separate, in principle, the Kingdom of Wadai from what
constituted in 1882 the Province of Darfur; but it shall in no
case be so drawn as to pass to the west beyond the 21st degree
of longitude east of Greenwich (18° 40' east of Paris), or to
the east beyond the 23rd degree of longitude east of Greenwich
(20° 40' east of Paris).

"3. It is understood, in principle, that to the north of the

15th parallel the French zone shall be limited to the
northeast and east by a line which shall start from the point
of intersection of the Tropic of Cancer with the 16th degree
of longitude east of Greenwich (13° 40' east of Paris), shall
run thence to the southeast until it meets the 24th degree of
longitude east of Greenwich (21° 40' east of Paris), and shall
then follow the 24th degree until it meets, to the north of
the 15th parallel of latitude, the frontier of Darfur as it
shall eventually be fixed.

"4. The two Governments engage to appoint Commissioners who

shall be charged to delimit on the spot a frontier-line in
accordance with the indications given in paragraph 2 of this
Declaration. The result of their work shall be submitted for
the approbation of their respective Governments.

"It is agreed that the provisions of Article IX of the

Convention of the 14th June, 1898, shall apply equally to the
territories situated to the south of the 14° 20' parallel of
north latitude, and to the north of the 5th parallel of north