by Sweet, Izzy
“As if someone could fucking afford me!” Meredith snaps out loudly.
Walking up behind her, I say, “We’re just visiting. Is Peter here tonight?”
The security guard focuses on me in the dim lighting. Recognizing me, he nods his head. “Yes, sir! Would you like me to have someone escort you to him?”
“No,” I say. Meredith is still fuming as I lightly place my hand on her lower back. “Let him know we’re here when you’re not busy.”
Giving her a light push to get her past the guard, I can feel an electrical current running up my forearm and straight to my groin. While not unpleasant, it annoys me that she is able to have this effect on me with just the barest of touches.
Through a fucking heavy coat, no less.
This is absurd.
I remove my hand from her back as she turns her head to me, her eyes beaming a dangerous glare.
“Why are you touching me?”
“So you will shut up and we can continue on our exciting journey into a filthy disease-ridden adventure.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asks as we make our way into the club proper.
There are tables all around the floor. A bar is set back along the back of a wall, and the main stage has bar stools surrounding it. Mini stages are staggered around the floor for dancers who are not on the main stage to dance.
It’s crowded here tonight. Crowded with a haze of smoke everywhere. Yet another issue I will have to suffer through.
Meredith stands there, looking out across the room of men and women. I’m not sure what she expected when she said a strip club, but I have a feeling she was expecting the glamorous Hollywood-type, not this.
This strip club is located between the business district and the industrial district. It pulls customers equally from both. While Lucifer may have cleaned the place up. Slapped a fresh coat of paint on it and removed a lot of the bad element that had took over this place.
It’s still a strip club.
Again, placing my hand on the small of Meredith’s back, I gently usher her to an open table. Removing my winter overcoat, I fold it neatly over the back of my chair. No doubt I will have to buy a new one after it touches this chair.
This place just feels like its crawling with germs. I can only hope a steaming hot shower and enough disinfectant to kill a horse will be enough to clean myself. My suit, shirt, and tie will need to be discarded.
No sense in keeping clothing with this kind of… filth on it.
Sitting down at the table, I look up at Meredith as she stares at me. Daggers are in her eyes again as she looks from me to her chair then back at me again.
“Yes, Meredith, you may sit at my table,” I say just loud enough to be heard over the throbbing music that’s being pumped over the speakers.
“Are you always such an asshole, Simon? Do you have no manners?” she hisses as she removes her coat and hangs it over the back of her chair.
“No, Meredith, it seems you bring out the best of me,” I reply.
“Simon!” a feminine voice rings out.
I can literally feel my skin crawl hearing the way my name is said.
A woman with bright red hair who is wearing barely more than the strippers around us walks over to our table, trying to strut her…goods.
Meredith’s head whips around to look at the woman who’s approaching us, and at first she seems taken aback.
Then she sneers. “A friend of yours?”
Ignoring Meredith, I stand from my chair and nod my head slightly at the redhead. “Cherry.”
Cherry is thankfully smart enough to know my rules of personal contact. She stops close enough to touch me, but doesn’t do so.
I really do believe if she tried I might cut her hand off, and then remove any body part of mine she touched.
I simply could not handle being touched by her.
“Who’s this?” she asks as she looks down at Meredith.
“A friend,” I say coolly. She has no need to know who Meredith is or why she’s here.
“I’ve never seen you with a… well… um,” she says before asking Meredith. “You here for a job?”
“Why the fuck does everyone keep asking me that?” Meredith asks with some heat in her voice.
“Nope, not that then.” Smirking, Cherry looks over to me and asks, “You need Peter?”
“No, not right now,” I say, and I suddenly feel a small amount of fondness for the red-haired woman.
“Well, Spiderman, what can I get you two to drink?”
And now I’m right back to wanting to slit her throat with the stiletto I carry in my pocket.
“Nothing for me,” I say.
I have no clue when they last washed the glasses they serve their drinks in, and I don’t want to know either.
“What about you, honey?” Cherry asks Meredith with one of those smiles that seems to be so popular. It’s a mixture of nasty lemon mixed with honey.
“Vodka cranberry. If you can remember that, sweetie,” Meredith says back with a growl.
“Sure, whiskey sour. Be right back,” Cherry says before turning to me. “I could make a pretty good dollar on her if she were to dance. With that bleached blonde hair, men would go for her being tan like that. She’s a total bimbo barbie doll.”
Meredith’s eyes widen further. “Bimbo!“
“I’ll have your cosmopolitan sent right over, girl,” Cherry grins before turning to me one more time. “Her hips are probably too narrow and rigid to be a dancer though.”
Flouncing away from us, I watch as she heads towards the bar.
Turning back to Meredith, I see those daggers staring right into the back of Cherry.
Whatever. I hate these social interplays. They’re almost as bad as trying to read social cues.
Sitting back down at the table, I try to make sure none of my exposed skin touches anything here.
Snapping my fingers in front of Meredith, I say, “What is it you wish to do while we’re here? I can arrange for you to have a dance—”
“Nothing like that!” Meredith hisses.
I didn’t think so, she never put out the leanings towards women, but one never knows.
The music dies down after a moment and we both sit here, stewing in our own thoughts. I can feel the scabies crawling up my damn pants leg.
This is not the night I would like to be having right now.
Being with Meredith is a slow, tortuous affair.
I would rather be spending time exploring every single inch of her body with my hands while I listen to her moan in ecstasy, I think to myself.
Stop it. Thoughts like that will lead to nowhere but trouble… and perhaps hell. Fuck it all. The road to hell is always paved with a lack of self-control. I may end up there because of what I do, but I will not let her break me.
“I have to use the ladies room,” Meredith says, looking around the floor.
Hmm. Lady. That’s a good euphuism, Meredith, I mentally chide her.
She keeps looking at me expectantly, so much so I have to ask, “What? Do you need help with removing those skin-tight clothes? Perhaps you should have worn a more sensible…”
“One more fucking word about my clothes, Simon, and I’ll fucking break my heel off in your ear,” she snaps.
So, she does have a weak spot. Figures it’s clothing.
I know somewhere behind those heated eyes is a brain that could rival mine, but she doesn’t like people knowing it. Perhaps that’s why she dresses the way she does.
“Show me where the hell it is?” she snaps as she stands up from the table.
Looking down at my hands for a moment, I force myself to relax. Hopefully she will get one look at the bathroom and want to go home. Then I will be free of her torture and can go back to some sense of normalcy.
“Fine,” I grit out between my teeth.
Standing up, I step around her, heading off towards the back of the club. On my way, I check out all those around us. I may detest this
business with my very being, but it is a cash cow when I look at the numbers instead of the filth.
Stopping outside of the bathroom, I motion for Meredith to stop. “I need to check it out before I leave you alone.”
Pushing us both through the door, I do a quick look through the stalls. It’s empty, thankfully. I’d fucking hate to see some woman on her knees sucking a cock or snorting coke.
Meredith looks confused as I finish my search. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“Your security,” I say without any other words.
Heading back out of the bathroom, I say, “The window is bolted shut.”
Meredith says something, but I don’t quite hear it as the door shuts behind me.
Turning my back to the door, I stand to the side of it. It’s been a few years since I’ve stood as someone’s guard, much less worked a door as security.
I watch as the crowd of people moves and flows with the strippers weaving in and out of the tables. A couple of guys follow two strippers to the private dance booths and it makes me shudder to think of sitting on those vinyl seats crusted with body fluids.
Glancing towards the front of the building, I see Peter looking frantically around the club. His face is normally as jovial as a damn caveman’s, but right now he looks pissed and very worried.
Such an odd… Fuck.
He spots me and begins to race towards me with a look of something akin to fear. Shit.
Slamming the door open behind me, I race into the bathroom. Meredith is just coming out of the stall as I grab her by the wrist.
Yanking her by the arm, I practically pull her across the floor as I wrench the door open.
“What do you think you’re doing, Simon?!” she screams at me over the loud music as I yank her out past the door and onto the floor.
Peter is in a full out run as he reaches us. “We need to get out of here! Bomb.”
I know my eyes widen, but I don’t bother asking questions. Too many times shit like this has happened for me to think he would be playing a trick.
Sweeping Meredith up and over my shoulder, I run behind Peter as he slams his body into people to get them out of the way.
Rushing through the now vacant hole of the crowd, I hear Cherry far behind us, calling out to us.
Fuck. Cherry.
Turning back to her, I wave my hand in a frantic motion to get the fuck over here.
Then I swing back towards the exit and pick up my pace again until I’m at a dead run. We’re heading for the back door, not the front. It’s closer and hopefully we can get clear.
Peter lifts a foot and boots the door nearly off the hinges once we reach it. Turning back to us, he motions for me to move my ass.
I hear Cherry behind us, yelling and asking what the fuck is happening, but I don’t stop as I push Peter ahead of me.
Meredith, Peter, and I, get almost ten feet away from the door before a deafening whooshing noise comes from the front of the club. The fire and subsequent explosion launches Cherry out of the open door like a rag doll.
Her body lands a foot past where we were standing a moment ago.
Peter yanks his pistol from his hip holster as he looks around us.
He yells over the sudden roar of fire, “We need to get to my truck!”
Nodding my head, I follow him over to the silver Dodge Ram and plop Meredith down beside of it.
Looking into her eyes, I pant from the exertion of carrying her so far and fast. “Are you okay, Meredith?”
She nods her head numbly and points to the back door of the club. Flames are rolling out of it hot and heavy.
Shock. She’s in shock.
“I know, Meredith, I know. Let’s get you somewhere safe…” I say.
Shaking her head at me, she points again behind me. “No…”
Turning back to look, I see what she’s pointing at and my heart stills for a moment. Cherry is still there where she landed. Her body is crumpled on the ground, but her arm is moving almost like a flag.
“Peter,” I shout. “Get Meredith in the car. I’ll be right back.”
“What the fuck?” he asks, but I ignore him.
Jogging over to Cherry, I can’t help but think she looks like the victim of a violent train wreck. Her body just doesn’t lay right on the ground. A leg is turned at an impossible angle. The good arm is still moving slightly while her other is missing entirely.
Kneeling in front of her, I look down at her mess of hair that is more blood and charred scalp than anything else. Her face has that melted wax look to it.
“I’m here, Cherry, it’s Lucifer,” I say in a cool smooth drawl.
Gone are any inflections that comes with the Simon voice. Now I use the smooth, unhurried voice of Lucifer.
Her eye barely moves in her skull and one is completely melted. There’s this faraway look to it.
Taking her hand away from my tie where she grasps at it with blood-soaked fingers, I ask quietly, “Would you like me to do a kindness for you, Madeline?”
She’s far too gone now to know who I really am. She knows only that I call her by the name Lucifer would use for her. It’s her real name.
Pulling the stiletto from my pocket, I press the button and the blade shoots out from the handle.
Cherry could possibly live after all this, but she would never be right again. She would never be able to look in the mirror again.
Her lips part but no words come, only bubbles of blood.
I nod my head and whisper, “Goodbye, Madeline.”
Stabbing the blade down into her chest, I push it deep down between the bones and pierce her heart.
Moving it upwards, I ensure I’ve severed any chance she will have to deal with this anymore.
She gives one quiet death rattle over the flames coming from the building. Then the pain-filled eye fades as the life flees from her body.
Standing up from the body, I can’t help but shudder as I look down at my bloody hands. My suit, tie, and shirt are ruined.
Nothing about this day has gone according to plan, and it’s driving me mad with anger.
Walking over to the truck, I see Meredith still standing beside it with Peter trying to get her to listen to him.
“Look, ma’am, we need you to get in the truck.”
Meredith is not having it though. She just continues to stare at me and the hand I have holding the stiletto.
“What… What did you... do?” she stutters out at me.
“A kindness. Now if you would be so agreeable, please get the fuck in the truck,” I growl at her.
Turning to the cab of the truck, she mutters quietly, “You’re a monster, you all are.”
Ignoring her, I say, “Peter, get me to my SUV and quick. We need to get out of here.”
Once we’re all in the truck, it’s a quick ride around the block to reach my vehicle. In the distance, sirens wail in the background. Thankfully we don’t spot anyone being too nosey as we stop in front of my Escalade.
I would try to clean myself up from the blood, but we just don’t have the time.
Getting out and heading to my vehicle, I notice Meredith is still sitting in the back of the truck.
Walking to her door, I yank it open and wrap a hand around her wrist. She fights me at first, but when I pull her arm hard enough she slides right out of the truck.
“We don’t have time for this shit, Meredith!” I growl as I tug her over to my vehicle.
Turning to Peter as he looks out his window, I say, “Tell Lucifer what happened, and that I am in the process of securing his sister. I’ll contact him as soon as possible.”
“Got it,” he says out the window before easing out of the parking lot.
Meredith must be getting her dander up again because she begins to struggle against me. Blood from me is getting all over her top and arms. Dirty disgusting stripper blood.
Motherfucker.
“Stop fucking fighting!” I shout as I pull her to the passenger door.
Opening it up, I all but toss her inside.
Pulling her belt over her lap, I snap her in before shutting her door. I run around to my side of the Escalade and get in quickly.
Starting it up, I stomp on the gas and peel out of the parking lot.
4
Meredith
The tires of Simon’s SUV squeal as he hits the gas. Behind us, the night sky is lit up with a glow of orange as the inferno consuming Lucky Tails blazes towards the heavens. Sirens flash, red, white, and blue, illuminating the burning building.
It looks like a party in a hell, and I just barely escaped it.
I glance over at Simon. He looks… unraveled. In the three months that I’ve known him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this. His eyes are wild, full of emotion for once, and yet focused with a purpose. The hair he usually keeps slicked back is all over the place. His tie is askew. He shed his suit jacket, but there is still blood all over his shirt, arms, and hands.
Cherry’s blood.
He killed her. I watched him lean in close to her like he was a lover and shove a blade in her chest.
Fuck. I knew it, but seeing is truly believing. He’s a monster just like him.
Watching Simon kill Cherry was just like that day I stumbled across Matthew in the basement all those years ago, torturing that man…
The tires of the SUV squeal again as Simon is forced to come to a stop at a light.
I don’t think twice. I have to get away. I can’t be a part of this madness.
One hand grabbing the handle of the door, my other hand unclicks my seatbelt and I try to make a run for it.
Shoving my door open, I get one foot out the door when my hair is suddenly grabbed. I’m yanked viciously back.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going, Meredith?”
I scream and reach back, clawing at the hands gripping my hair.
“Let me go, Simon!” I screech.
“No,” he growls.
He growls. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Simon speak in anything but a cool, almost robotic voice before.
I guess I really do bring out the best of him.
Yanking harder on my hair, he uses it to reel me back in. I scream again as my scalp lights up with agony.