Caught Up. Shannon Holmes

and she clasped her hand over her mouth. “Brian?” she whispered lowly.

      The man raised his chin so that his eyes were no longer shrouded. His gaze met Dixyn’s head on and he removed the baseball cap. Dixyn had to admit the physical resemblance with Bryce was striking.

      “Live in the flesh,” he stated. “But you can call me B-Dub.”

      “Please don’t tell Bryce you saw me dancin’ at a strip club. He’d kill me!” Dixyn blurted out. She had been attracted to becoming a stripper by the vast amount of money Kendra promised she would make and by the notion that she could remain anonymous in this dark, seedy underworld. Ironically, her identity had been discovered her very first night on the job.

      “Oh, I doubt that,” B-Dub said calmly. “I hate to say it, but my big bro’s about to get an asshole full of time. He won’t be killin’ nobody anytime soon. C’mere, Dixyn, have a seat while we figure out what to do about this unfortunate incident. I’m sure we can work somethin’ out. But of course, that’s up to you.”

      Dixyn was too upset to comprehend everything B-Dub was saying. She sat down in the only other chair in the room and began to cry.

      “Damn, Dixyn, you looked so fuckin’ sexy and shit while you was up on that stage,” he continued. “Every nigga in da club wanted a piece of that, ma. Including me. If you were mine, you wouldn’t . . .”

      B-Dub’s conversation was going off track and he began hurling sexual innuendoes at Dixyn. She tried to shrug off the comments until it became clear that he was dead serious.

      He reached out and ran his palm up Dixyn’s leg, startling her. She quickly brushed his hand away. “What do you want from me?”