The Devil's Eyes Read online

  The Devil’s Eyes

  Jennifer Loren

  Copyright © 2011 Jennifer Loren

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 0984733698

  ISBN-13: 9780984733699

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to everyone who gave me a smile when I needed it, made me laugh to keep me from crying and cried with me, when words just weren’t enough.

  Prologue

  The last time I saw him, I didn’t breathe again until he had dressed himself completely. From the crack in my sister’s door, I saw him get out of her bed and inhale, as if he had accomplished his mission for the day. I had seen many of my sister’s boyfriends before, but none were ever like him. Athletes, academic-All Americans, and the prom king, attractive as they may have been none came close to comparing to him. You could recognize him from any angle: lean tall stature, deep black hair, and a walk that had an air of authority - like no one could possibly have anything to say that was of any importance to him. Biting my mouth closed, I struggled to keep from blinking as I watched him, taking in his entire body with a long, single breath. I knew his body would be incredible, but the blackened tattoo blazing up his right side reminded me that despite his designer clothes, his background was all but respectable. It was his eyes, though. Ooh his eyes … Adjusting himself comfortably as he dresses, he only glances at my sister’s naked body draped across her bed, still gasping for more from him, until she faints from exhaustion. Without even a single word, without even a gentle kiss on the lips, or even a wave of good-bye, he walks out the door making eye contact with me for only a second. It was at that moment that he lured me in. I was captivated by him and, for the first time, I understood his power. Nicholas Jayzon commanded attention when he walked into a room. If you were ever damned enough to make eye contact with him, you would know what it is like to be lured in by The Devil’s Eyes.

  ~1~

  Kayla

  Today is the anniversary. After picking up some flowers I catch the noon train to the Bleaker Street bus stop and ride it all the way to the cemetery. I walk solemnly to the modest grave marker and crouch down to lay her favorite flowers next to her name. “Hi Bray. I know it has been awhile but I have had a lot going on lately. A lot of work to do you might say, but it has finally paid off. I have worked real hard learning everything I can about him and how to get his attention."

  “Those are beautiful flowers, dear.” Stunned, I turn around to see an unassuming, older woman walking towards me. “Oh, I am sorry I startled you. My manners aren’t the best sometimes.”

  Standing, I brush myself off with a gracious smile. “It’s perfectly alright, I guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

  The old woman grips my arm and struggles to read my sister’s name. “Braylin Patrick … someone special to you?”

  “My sister.” I said with a shaky breath.

  “Oh, she was so young.” The woman said with a tragic expression.

  “Yes. Too young.”

  “Excuse me for being nosy, but how did she die? I have always wondered what happened. My husband is right over there and I pass her grave all the time."

  “It is a long story.” I tell her, hoping to end our conversation.

  “Well, I don’t have anywhere to be. My son isn’t due to pick me up for a while now. So, if you don’t mind, I would love to hear about her. My name is Dorothy.” She responds with a friendly face.

  “Kayla. Nice to meet you.” I give her my hand with a weary smile.

  “You were close to your sister, weren’t you?” Dorothy asked and I nod simply. The woman seems to sense my hesitation, “It may help you to talk about her, I know I always feel better remembering my dear Charles.”

  Faking a smile, “I don’t want you to think she was always like the way she was at the end, because she wasn’t.”

  “So, start where you feel comfortable.” Dorothy pushes with a little more persistence.

  Taking a deep breath, I look down as the breeze blows the dirt across her name. “Braylin wasn’t just my sister, she looked after me once she was old enough to get her own place. She was optimistic, responsible, and motherly. She wouldn’t let me work so I could concentrate on school. I could take classes during the school year and in the summers so I finished high school in less than three years. I loved living with her, even though I worried about her all the time. I always tried to pretend I had been asleep for hours when she would come home from work only because she would worry if I waited up for her so late. Except for Fridays. On Friday, Bray would buy me a used book with what she had left over after paying the bills. I couldn’t wait to read it. I would rush to the restaurant where she worked to see her just so I could start reading it right away. When she would get home we would lie against each other and I would read it again to her.”

  “She sounds like a wonderful sister.” Dorothy says with a smile.

  “Bray was beautiful, she had every man she met with eating out of her hands.” I smiled at the woman before recalling the reason she is here. “Except for one, he had her spinning for him. When we escaped my mother’s house, Bray promised to take care of me. “Take care of us,” she said. And then one day she came home on top of the world. She had met the perfect man and he was going to take us away from the run down shack we were living in, buy us a new car, and even help pay my way through college. I was already sneaking into the college and taking classes on my own. The prospect of being a student became all I could think about and Bray knew it and tried even harder to please him. I should have known better, I shouldn't have been so excited and encouraging of the relationship. No man is that wonderful." Bending down, I reset the flowers against the marker and brush the dirt away from her name. “The first time I met him, not even a meeting really, he came over to see Bray and he didn’t notice me at all. I was so nervous around him I would hide whenever he would come over. I don't know why, but I was jealous of her. I never thought anything about her other boyfriends. But Nick … Nick was amazing. He would buy her some beautiful things and treated her like a queen. I began dreaming about him, pretending he was my boyfriend. It all seemed perfect for a time and then suddenly he stopped coming around. I never knew why, but I assumed it was because of me. Bray suddenly would stay away from home for days and would forget to pay the bills. I was afraid she was staying with him because he didn’t like me. When she did come home, she was lost- absent of any life. She would carelessly throw money at me and tell me to deal with the household bills. “She didn’t have time,” she said. She would be gone all-night and sleep all-day, if she slept at all, most of the time she cried. I asked her so many times if it was Nick and she would say “No … no, Nick’s perfect.” I tried to ignore the signs, hoping that she would pull herself back up but she was doing whatever she could to please him or what she thought would please him. It didn’t take me long to realize what she had become, what he had turned her into. Drugs, prostitution, whatever he needed she did until he finally agreed to meet with her and discuss getting back together. She was overjoyed to see him again. She had spent all-day getting ready, even bought a new dress.” I smile remembering her spin joyfully in front of her mirror. Taking a deep breath, I continue. “But … he dismissed her like she was nothing. She came home devastated and nothing I said or did would bring her out of it. After days of sitting up with her, I finally fell asleep. The next morning I found her ...” Tensing my lips, I fight back my tears. “She had hung herself from the showerhead.” Sighing, I wipe the tears from my cheek and refocus on my mission.

  As I crouch down and hold my face, the old woman takes my head in her hands, “Oh dear, that is terrible." She pats my head searching for the right words to say. “How did you get by after that?” She asks surprisingly. I didn't exp
ect her to ask any more questions. Was that not enough to know about a total stranger? Nosey old woman.

  Standing, I clear the lump in my throat, “I was still under age so they sent me back to my mother and her new husband. He was the worst of them all. He hid all my books from me one night. He promised to give them back to me, depending on the deeds I would do for him. Each deed was worth so many books. Give him a blowjob? I got one. Let him screw me? I got two. If I entertained his friends, I could get three back. I told him to go …” I look over at the old woman’s horrified expression. “Well, I said no.” The woman snickers some as I try to clean my language for her.

  “Good for you. I am sure you earned some respect from him then.” She said with an encouraging smile.

  “Not exactly. He took all my books outside and started to burn them. I was in a rage and I went at him to try to save my beloved books. I tried kicking him and hitting him to get him to stop. I don’t know what I was thinking, he was so much bigger than me. He had me down on the ground in an instant, telling me the dirty things he was going to do to me. I screamed and I kicked and I screamed some more.”

  “He didn’t …?”

  “No, actually, a crazy thing happened. A man came out of nowhere and started yelling at him. While he was distracted, I ran and hid. The next thing I remember is hearing my stepfather scream. Whoever the stranger was, he stabbed my stepfather to death. Probably some out of his mind drug addict looking for money. There were plenty of them around. I stayed hidden for a couple of days. When I returned my mother was passed out drunk and my books were gone. So I gathered what I could and ran away for good.”

  “Well at least you were able to get away from him. I am sure your sister would be proud of you now.”

  “I hope so.” I said.

  “Well, dear, I have to go. My son is here and he gets impatient quickly.” Cradling my face she looks up at me fondly, “He is single by the way.” She said pointing to the nearly bald, squirrelly man sitting behind the wheel of a giant old Lincoln. Looking back up at me with her eyebrows raised, she seems hopeful.

  After what I told her and she still wants me to date her son? He must be a perfectly wonderful catch. “Well, I don’t know. If he wants to visit me at work sometime, I will talk to him and see if we have anything in common. I start tonight at Pigalle Place.” Without another breath passing between us, she is gone- waving good-bye as she double steps towards her son’s car. I watch her leave with a slight smile. I guess I am not right for her son after all. Pigalle is well-known in this city, even among the elders who wouldn’t dare step foot in such a place no matter how upscale it is. I turn back towards Braylin’s grave and take in a deep breath. “Don’t worry, Bray. I know what I am doing and I am prepared for him. Unlike the others, I know what to expect from him. I know how to gain his interest and beat him at his own game. I have nothing to lose now and he has everything for me to take.”

  ~2~

  Kayla

  He walked out of our lives, making us feel privileged that he even bothered to make the trip across town for us. I am not even sure he knew her last name, or cared to know, let alone remember me. There was no reason for him to remember me. I was awkward and shy the last time I saw him. We never spoke and he only looked at me the one time. I have changed a lot since then and I am not a shy, awkward girl anymore. Now I am a woman who is standing outside his club working up the courage to go in and perform well enough to gain his attention. Stripping was never my intent, but it is money and more than I can possibly make working at the same diner my mother worked at until her pained legs gave way. Oh hell, why do I even bother to think of her at this moment? She was no saint and certainly no mother to Braylin and me. The men she brought home were no saints either. I think she drank so she wouldn’t have to realize what was going on around her. It was Braylin that got us out of there. Bray's on a rare occasion, successfully, gambling father was kind enough to give us enough money to get us started. We didn’t dare bother to ask for much more. And, of course, my father, whoever he may be was useless to us. Walking in the, for the moment, brightly lit room, I gaze over the stage that I performed on to get this job. “Great ass and certainly great tits,” the judges said as they admired my every move. I know I have the body- they didn’t have to tell me that- or that I am innocent looking enough to drive the men crazy, but I blushed when they called me pretty. “Really pretty,” they said, twice. No one has ever said that to me. They have commented on my body before, or my long brown hair, or my bright green eyes, but I never have been called pretty.

  “Kayla, come with me and I will show you your locker and your area. It’s your responsibility to keep it clean and make sure you have all your valuables locked up. I’m not policing every girl in this club,” Kyler, the manager of the club, tells me as he walks me through to the back of the club. “You did bring a lock with you, didn’t you?”

  “I did. And I picked up some new costumes and makeup from the supplier you suggested.” Suggested? It wasn’t much of a suggestion. This is no ordinary gentleman’s club. The women have to be perfect, expensive, and, yet, unattainable. The women don’t strip nude, they leave a well designed and expensive g-string bikini on, not that it covers much. Between the somewhat respectable line of the barely there bikini and the money, it is enough to draw in some of the most beautiful dancers. The place is so clean and so upscale that even women come here to watch the shows, some come for the atmosphere of rich men and others hoping to meet Nick. Nick has a reputation and every woman in the city is aware of it, if not from word of mouth, then simply by catching a glimpse of him. He has come a long way since dating my sister. He is no longer the bagman for Harvey Rice. In fact, he took over most of what Harvey used to own and now nearly owns the city. And yet, he is only a few years older than me.

  Kyler opens the door in front of me and points to an area with a makeup table and a small, open closet. “Well, here you are. It’s not a bad spot but make sure you keep your things on your side of the closet. You’re sharing with Meagan. She is not too good about sharing and I am not too good with having to listen to her complain. So, please stay away from her.” Kyler’s stern look gives me pause but it is not enough to scare me.

  “So! You’re the new girl.” I turn towards the lanky, dark figure coming at me, full of attitude and swagger. “I’m Exie and despite what you may hear I am the best dancer here. No one else compares. So, don’t even think you’re going to come in here and take my time slots.”

  With a slight smile, “Well, if you’re that good then you shouldn’t have to worry about it, should you?” I said.

  Exie’s bright smile forms smoothly across her face, “I like you, so a piece of advice from me to you: most of these bitches are backstabbers, but as long as you understand that pretty much whatever you’re told is a lie, you will be fine.” From the moment Exie eyed me up and down, I knew we were going to be good friends.

  “Thanks, I will keep that in mind.” I said.

  “No problem. Now, I hope your little white ass can dance because, if you can’t, you will not make it here. They are constantly bringing in new girls to keep the atmosphere fresh. The same goes for your outfits and your routines. Otherwise, you will be replaced quickly.” Exie said admiring all my makeup. “Can I borrow this? I will give it back.”

  I snatch the tube of lipstick out of her hand as she tries to disappear with it, “I don’t think so! Get your own.”

  Exie smiles, putting her hands on her hips, “You may last after all.”

  The night goes as I would have expected: a little nervous the first round, but eventually I learn to focus outside my surroundings, and put myself in a place that eases my nerves. This isn’t my first time on stage, but this place is a little more intimidating because of its upscale clientele. During my down time, I watch from the side as each dancer performs, waiting, and wondering if he will ever show. Towards the end of the night, walking in like she owns the place is Meagan. Looking me up and down, she space
s herself around me as if I have a disease she doesn’t want to catch. Her superior attitude is understandable, the gorgeous blond dresses to kill and a single piece of her jewelry would pay my rent for a year. I’m impressed despite her loathing of me. Not far behind her, Nick swaggers in with his entourage of men, all dressed in designer, tailor-made suits. As always, he commands attention from the moment he enters and is already causing my knees to shake and my heart to race. I have prepared for this numerous times in my head, but standing near him again is almost enough to send me running out the door in fear of failure.

  “Hot as hell, isn’t he?” Exie questioned from over my shoulder.

  “Yea, I guess he is.”

  “You guess? Are you blind? Girl, he is so fine it’s scary. I nearly had an orgasm the other day when he asked me for a cup of tea. But don’t stare too hard, Meagan will scratch your eyes out if she catches you staring at her man.” Exie said with a high eyebrow warning.

  “He is seeing Meagan? Why?”

  “That’s Nicholas Jayzon, the man that owns this club and the sole reason that Meagan thinks her shit don’t stink. And why the Bitch is getting the prime time slots. Not only is Nick sexy as hell but he also takes care of his women, which isn’t only Meagan no matter what she may say. Although she seems to be the main one or at least the one he flaunts in front of his associates over there. The worst part is the scrawny white girl can’t dance for shit. If it wasn’t for her big tits and blond hair no one would look twice at her.” Exie sighs and walks away with an air of disgust and jealousy. Laughing as Exie does a mock impression of Meagan’s dancing, I find a good spot and eagerly wait until Meagan enters the stage. She gives a weak performance, just as Exie said she would. It doesn’t matter to me though because I mostly watch Nick: how he moves, how he watches her, how he responds to every twist and turn that she makes. When she finishes he gets up to leave, catching sight of me with interest. Holding my ground, I take his intimidating stare head on. Nick pauses briefly before a slight smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He turns away from me and after a second glance over his shoulder, I know he is interested.