by Eva Luxe
This is the first real breakdown I’ve had in months, but I just can’t handle strange men having their hands all over me. No girl wants that, but every time a guy grabs me like that, it takes me back to the really bad days with Colin when he would drink too much, get angry, and take it out on me. I’ve been doing well and getting better as the years go by, but something like that always sends me right back to those nights.
I look at myself in the mirror and see how much of a wreck I am. My eyes are red, my make up is smeared, and I look like a wet dog. I wish Kristen was here. She always knows how to make me feel better, but she’s upstairs with Roger’s partner probably having a grand old time. He’s going to be wondering where I am, but he knows me and won’t mind waiting. The night is still young, and he’ll be here until we close at three.
I grab a handful of towels and pat dry my face and try to deal with the make-up issue the best I can. It is pretty dark in the champagne room, so it doesn’t have to be perfect, but I don’t want to go up there looking like a total wreck.
I hear the sound of heels behind me and turn away as one of the new girls, I think her name is Cindy, comes up behind me.
“Hey, Rose,” she says.
“Oh, hey,” I say back quickly, trying my best not to let her see that I’m upset. The last thing I need around this place is more drama and more gossip.
“Got me on the small stage tonight,” she says proudly. “Gonna bring it.”
“Go get ‘em, girl,” I say, doing my best to sound encouraging.
“Oh, I’m gonna!” she says effusively. I hear the sound of her heels clicking across the tiled floor. I wait until she’s gone to finish putting myself together.
Just as I’m turning to the door, I hear my phone ring from my locker.
“Ah, Jesus …” I say with a sigh. I pull open my locker door and fish through my purse, grabbing my phone just before it goes to voicemail.
“Hello?”
“Hey, mom,” Ella says through the phone.
“Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”
“I’m sorry to bother you at work, but the neighbors are being loud again.”
Great. Just what I need tonight.
“Really? Is it bad?”
“It’s pretty bad,” she says. I have the absolute worst neighbors in the world. My landlord didn’t mention them when I moved in. Well, actually she told me they were nice and quiet. Of course, that was a complete lie. What really happened was they were out of the state on vacation and everything changed when they came back.
Not only do they fight non-stop, they also have crazy rabbit sex about ten times a day. Fight-sex-fight-sex-fight-sex. Rinse and repeat. That’s basically their lives. They’re both on welfare, have subsidized rent payments from the government and basically crank their music, order pizza, get in a fight, have sex and stay up to all hours of the day being generally obnoxious and impossible to deal with.
“Can you just ignore them, honey? I really need to finish work tonight. I have to get the car running. I can’t keep bumming rides from people.”
“I can, but Josh is pretty upset.”
My heart sinks. That’s the one thing I was hoping she wouldn’t say. Josh is a very special child, and he’s easily upset. It took him a long time to get used to any amount of noise from the neighbors, and I had to work with him for a long time to assure him that nothing bad was going to happen to him. But if he’s upset tonight, that means two things: one, my neighbors are being extra loud, and two, I’m going to have to head home.
“Okay, honey,” I say, rubbing my eyes. “I’ll be home as soon as I can. Just take him into the living room and put on one of his movies, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”
I hang up and stuff my phone back in my purse. This is starting to turn into one of those legendary nightmare nights.
Pacing quickly, I leave the locker room and step back into the main room. Violet is just ending her set, and from the amount of bills lying on the stage, I’d say she’s going to do pretty well tonight. Ending my night at this hour is really going to cut into my earnings, and that probably means working another night this week, one of the nights my regulars aren’t here.
I can feel an anxiety attack coming on as I thread a line through the crowd, my eyes out for the creep in the leather jacket. But thankfully, he’s nowhere to be found. Hopefully Axel either kicked his ass or kicked him out. Or both.
I race passed the bar and up the stairs to the champagne room.
“You’re back!” Roger says enthusiastically.
“I have to go,” I tell him, heading toward Kristen.
“What?”
“I’m so sorry!” I tap Kristen on the shoulder. She’s got both legs up on Roger’s partner’s lap and is obviously in full stripper mode. She wraps both arms around his neck and leans her head backwards to look at me.
“What’s up?”
“Can I get a ride?”
“A ride? What are you talking about?”
“It’s my neighbors again,” I explain. “Josh is freaking out, and I have to go.”
“Aw, come on. Don’t you have a babysitter?” Roger’s partner says. I give him a glare that says shut up and he gets it.
“Kristen,” I plead.
“One second,” she says to the man as she climbs off his lap. She comes over to me and we step into the corner of the room.
“Jenny, what is this?” she whispers. “Do you know how much money we’re going to make tonight?”
“I know, Kristen! You think I want to leave? This is my night!”
“I’m sorry. Listen, if I make more money than I expect, I’ll give you some, okay?”
“You don’t have to do that, Kristen. Have fun. I’ll get a cab.”
I give her a quick peck on the cheek and walk quickly from the room, calling over my shoulder as I leave.
“Bye, Roger!”
Chapter 4 – Tyler
A girl named Natalia is shaking her very ample ass in my face as I sit in a tiny booth in the lap dance room, flanked on either side by Barry and Moore. The “booth,” is thinner than a bathroom stall with walls that barely come up to my elbows. The club doesn’t want anyone getting up to any funny business, so everything’s in full view of the bouncer standing by the door.
Natalia’s right cheek brushes against my chin, and I hear her whisper to me in what sounds like a Russian accent.
“You like this butt, yes?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s nice,” I lie, my mind drifting back to the ass on that girl with the t-shirt. I dunno what’s going on with me, but I can’t stop thinking about her, even with this chick here shaking what her momma gave her right in front of my face.
“Ty’s an ass man,” Barry chimes in from beside me. His girl, an overly tan chick named Chocolate or Fudge or Caramel or something, has her tits in his face and is rubbing them back and forth at a speed that can’t be comfortable for either of them. She’s either going to suffocate him or knock him out with those things.
“This is good for me,” Natalia says with a smile, running her hands between her legs to stroke the inside of my thighs. On any other occasion, Ty Junior would be at full attention, and I’d be fighting the urge to pick this chick up by the waist, back fist the bouncer and have my way with her in the back parking lot, but I can’t get my mind off the girl from the bar.
She had a lot of sass to her, and I like that. I like a woman who can hold her own. My ex-wife was one of the most assertive, sarcastic women I’d ever known, and watching her tell off some jerk at the grocery store for trying to cut in line or bringing too many items to the fast lane were the best parts of my day.
Am I crazy for thinking that girl reminds me of her?
“Is this the life or what?” Moore says, tapping me on the shoulder. I can’t even remember the name of his dancer. The girls here all have ridiculous names, so I’m sure it’s something like Jasmine or Alexa or something. I don’t know who
hired her either. Her legs are covered with bruises and it looks like she hasn’t washed her hair in weeks. Either that or she’s just waiting for it to turn into dreadlocks. She’s “dancing,” awkwardly, and it’s pretty obvious she doesn’t want to be here. But from the look on his face, Moore seems to be loving it.
I raise my eyebrows and nod, trying not to let him see how bored I am. Natalia spins around and drops into a squatting position and presses my knees apart. She’s completely doggy style on the floor in front of me, and my mind should be on what her ass looks like when I’m slamming her from behind, but it’s not. I’m wondering where that other girl went and what she’s up to.
“Hey, uh, what do I owe you?” I ask her, reaching for my wallet.
“Is twenty dollars,” she says, looking a bit surprised. I pull out forty and hand it to her. She takes it quickly.
“Thanks, uh … Natalia? I gotta hit the bathroom.”
I stand up quickly, accidentally knocking her back onto her ass.
“Uh, sorry,” I say, brushing past Barry on my way out the door.
“Hey, where you going, man?” He shouts after me.
“I’ll be right back!”
The guys must think I’m nuts, but I don’t care. I have to know what she’s doing.
The main room of the club is still packed. I can’t even imagine what the owner’s going to be pulling in tonight, let alone the girls. This place is like a money making machine. What the hell am I doing running a struggling tattoo parlor?
I don’t even know where to start. Last time I saw her she was carrying a champagne bottle that looked like it could serve about twenty people, or two very hardcore alcoholics. Maybe the bartender knows.
I don’t have a hard time getting through the crowd. Most guys just instinctively move out of my way when they see me coming. It’s one of the advantages to being a vet and a fighter; people just see the way you carry yourself and know you’re not to be fucked with. That is, unless they’re a drunk asshole, and then you sometimes have a situation on your hands.
The bar isn’t too crowded, and I step up to the bartender, shouting over the noise.
“Hey, pal. That girl from earlier? Do you know her?”
“Which one, man?” he asks back. “’Bout a thousand girls in here.”
“She was carrying a champagne bottle. Thong. Nice ass. T-shirt?”
“Oh, right,” he says with a smile. “That’s Rose.”
These girls with their names.
“Rose, huh? You know where she went?”
“I think she’s working champagne tonight,” he says.
“Champagne? Like delivering champagne?”
“The champagne room,” he says, looking at me funny. “Haven’t you ever heard of the champagne room?”
I shrug, “This is my first time. Just point me in the right direction.”
“No can do, champ. Champagne room’s rented out by the hour. You’re gonna have to wait until she’s done, or hope she comes down for a refill.”
I slam my fist down on the bar in an uncharacteristic public display of anger. I usually don’t let my emotions get the best of me. I don’t know if it’s the drink I had or what, but I’m feeling pretty pissed off right now, and I don’t care who knows.
“Easy, slugger,” the bartender says with a chuckle. “There’s girls all over this place. Take your pick.”
Turning away from the bar, I look over the rest of the club with a sudden sense of disgust. I don’t want any of those other girls. I want the sassy t-shirt wearing chick with the sweet ass that told me I wasn’t a prince.
She’s right about that. I’m a King.
“Why don’t I get you another drink?” The bartender asks from behind me.
“Nah,” I say, getting more annoyed by the minute. “I’ll prolly head out in a few.”
“Yeah? Geez, I thought you may have stuck around and waited for her. Well, let me know if you need anything.”
Stick around and wait for her. Yeah right.
What am I? Some kind of high school virgin waiting outside class to try and work up the courage to ask the hot girl out? What a joke. Girls come to me. This visit to the strip club is a rare occurrence, and I’m basically just here because the boys dragged me into it. It’s bad enough I gave “Natalia” forty bucks to shake her lackluster ass in my face, but to stick around and wait for a chick to give me more attitude? I don’t need that.
“Fuck it,” I growl to myself. “I’m out of here.”
But then, just as I turn away from the bar, she brushes right past me. She doesn’t even see me. Her smell wafts over me, and I take a deep breath.
Look at that ass, I think.
She’s in a hurry, and she doesn’t look too happy either.
“Hey!” I shout, but she’s already deep into the crowd and there’s no way she can hear me. I shove two guys out of my way and head after her, but I can’t see her. She’s not that tall, and the lights are down back here away from the stage. I keep pushing through the sweaty bodies, jumping up to see over the crowd, but she’s gone. I’ve lost her.
“Fuck!” I say, clenching my fists at my side.
Some college punk bumps into me, and without even looking, I shove him hard, sending him flying back into his frat boy buddies.
“Hey, watch it, bro!” One of them shouts. I turn and give him a look that shuts him right up. Can’t stand those entitled little pricks.
This night is a wash. There’s no way I’m spending the rest of it hunting around in a crowd full of losers trying to find a stripper. The boys might wonder where I’ve gone, but they’ll find their own ways home. What a waste of time.
I head for the door.
Chapter 5 – Jenny
The air in the parking lot feels like Heaven after stepping out of the thick atmosphere of the club. Even though the place smells like trash and gasoline, it’s better than booze and body odor. The lot is empty of any other people, and I shoulder my purse that feels like it weighs about thirty pounds now and head towards the cab stand by the street.
As I grow closer, I hear a voice behind me.
“Going home so early?”
I know before I even look. It’s the drunk creep from the club who had his hands all over me. And he’s got two friends with him.
One of them is a giant, like something out of a strongman competition, and the other is a wiry blonde that may or may not be homeless. He looks strung out on something. This is bad.
I turn away and pace quickly towards the street but he moves quickly and stumbles in front of me and holds his hands up to block my path. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, and my cheeks are hot and flushed. The adrenaline is starting to course through me, and I feel my instinct to run kick in.
But both of his friends are now behind me. They’re so close I can smell them. I can feel the heat of their bodies against my back. The man in front of me smiles and licks his lips. His saliva is thick, white and foamy, like a rabid dog. I feel my stomach lurch and want to look away, but I’m frozen in place. My legs might as well not be there. It’s all I can do to keep from falling over.
“You look scared. What’s the matter, baby? We’re just looking to have some fun. Isn’t that what you gals are all about?”
He takes another step forward. He’s looming over me, and I can see dark patches of sweat on his t-shirt.
“Yeah. We’re nice guys,” one of his companions says behind me. I can feel his breath on my neck. Someone puts their hand on my side just above my hip. My whole body tenses up, but I still can’t move.
The ringleader licks his bottom lip again and reaches his hand out. It’s like I’m paralyzed. All I can do is watch as he takes ahold of my shirt and starts to lift. I feel my legs give out, and I topple over sideways. My elbow slams into the pavement, and I feel the skin break.
The man leans down, looming over me like a hungry predator. He reaches out a thick, sickly hand towards me.
“Let’s get a look at those babi
es—”
Before he can finish his sentence, a fist comes out of nowhere and smashes into his jaw. The man drops to the ground like a three-hundred-pound slab of meat. Shaken out of my stupor, I snap my head around and look up to see the handsome, arrogant dick from the bar looking at me with a smile on his face.
“Sup?”
“Fucker!” The large man behind me shouts as he lunges forward at my defender. But he dodges the large man’s fist easily and swings back, hitting him hard in the stomach. The man doubles over and is taken down with a swift kick to the jaw.
“You want some too, pal?” My savior says with a laugh, rubbing his knuckles with his other hand. I turn to see the last of my attackers standing nervously, unsure of what to do. He looks ready to fight, but he’s just seen what happened to his friends and is having second thoughts. “I got all night, buddy. Take your time.”
The man twitches. His eyes dart back and forth to his fallen comrades, and then finally, he bolts.
“See ya later!” The cocky man shouts before turning back to me. “You all right?”
“I—” The words catch in my throat as I try to speak. I cough, clearing my throat. “I think so.”
“Sons of bitches,” he laughs. “Wannabe tough guys.”
My heart is still pounding, but I’m starting to calm down. I can actually feel my legs again, and I manage to run my hands through my hair and take a deep breath.
“What’s your name?” he asks me. I look at his face and our eyes meet. Is this the same guy that was telling me to get my tits out half an hour ago?
“Rose—uh, Jenny,” I say, correcting myself.
I just gave him my real name. Why did I do that?
But it somehow felt natural, like lying to this man would be the wrong thing to do.
“Ty,” he says, extending a hand. “You know you should really be more careful. A lot of scumbags hang out at places like these.”
“I know,” I say, still shaken.
“Don’t you have a taser or something? A gun? Mace?”
“I have … wasp spray …” I stutter, reaching into my purse and fishing around for the can. I find it and pull it out.