Sunburnt

by Joey Jameson

  As he pulled into their driveway he parked his Bentley snugly next to Bambi’s fire-engine red Audi A5. Their house was an absolute gem, purchased many years ago by Lenox’s parents as an investment tool for a fraction of what it would be worth now. Despite it being a family property, Lenox and Bambi still paid full rent. They had been given permission to decorate it to reflect a mixture of Lenox’s monochrome tendencies and Bambi’s bubblegum-pop-electric tastes. The result was like Yves Klein on acid.

  Staring up at it for a moment, he couldn’t help but felt a tremor of anxiety sweep through him. Looking up to his window, he was instantly brought back to that night, a mere couple of weeks ago. The wounds were still fresh and the memories showed no signs of fading. If he closed his eyes he could still hear that shrill voice echoing in his head. He drew in a deep breath and began his silent count down from ten, his lips moving as he slowly reached zero, sending the rush of pain and panic down to his toes from where it gripped his core. It subsided as quickly as it had come on.

  Lenox burst through the door and kicked off his black ankle boots. He was already half undressed as he reached the top of the stairs.

  “Hiya, do you want me to spoon you out some salad?” came Bambi’s voice from somewhere in the kitchen.

  “No time, got to shower quick. Thanks, though!”

  “Don’t forget, Del Rey is going to pick us up in about half an hour.”

  “Half an hour? Why so early?” he shouted back as he unbuckled his trousers and headed into the bathroom.

  “Don’t you remember? Benz wants the whole team there early tonight for a quick catch-up.”

  She carried on speaking from downstairs, but her baby doll tone was drowned out by the sound of gushing water coming from their waterfall shower head. Even though time was short, Lenox allowed himself a few moments of self-indulgence as he basked in the warm, cascading stream. It relieved and washed away all the stresses he was holding in his muscular shoulders and back.

  He would return to the real world in a moment, but right then and there, nothing existed but him, the water, and the fact that tomorrow he would be on a plane, being whisked away to paradise…

  Chapter Two

  THEN

  Lenox and Bambi worked at one of the most unlikely places you’d ever place two upper-class Londoners such as themselves. For the past three and a half years, Lenox had been the main DJ and Bambi a hostess at the high-class strip club “Sunrise Strip” in Soho. For a gay DJ in his twenties like Lenox, it was an odd but perfect fit. Instead of working in one of the hundreds of gay clubs in the area, where he no doubt would spend most of his time fending off the less-than-subtle advances of drunken eighteen-year-olds looking for a one-night hook-up, being employed at a straight strip joint allowed him to work on his spinning technique and neatly hone his craft. Music was a part of his soul, there was no doubt about that, and while he had never learned to play any instruments, much to the chagrin of his father, he had always been drawn to DJ-ing. When he was behind the decks he was in control, and there was nothing more exhilarating than the feeling of getting a crowd going on a dance floor.

  At Sunrise Strip, although people weren’t paying to see him spin and he certainly was not the main attraction, he was the backbone of the club. Without him and his music, there would be no vibe. And that was enough to satiate his urge.

  For now.

  As for Bambi Von Dutch, although she could probably retire and live off her family’s fortune at her current ripe old age of twenty-nine if she wanted to, her feet were very secure on the ground and she had her eyes on the prize. In her case, the prize was a degree in fashion design, which she was currently working towards at the same university as Lenox. She brought a little something extra to the table at Sunrise Strip. Not only was she the best hostess to grace a venue this side of the Thames, but she also designed and created most of the outfits the girls wore on stage. Each night at the club was like a runway show of her latest designs: costumes, negligées, the works. And although she knew that she and her work would never be discovered looking after VIP clients at a place like this, the money was all right, the tips were amazing, and it was a chance to practice her sewing skills. So, in her eyes, it all evened itself out. Lenox would often joke that with a name like Bambi she was living out the ultimate cliché. But regardless of what others thought, she owned it.

  As they pulled up outside the club in Del Rey’s pink Volkswagen Beetle, it was just gone quarter to eight, making the three of them already fifteen minutes late for their meeting.

  “Guys, I’m soooooo sorry,” Del Rey drawled in her raspy cigarette-tinged tone. “I’ll totally tell Benz it was all my fault.”

  Lenox and Bambi shared a subtle eye-roll, as Del Rey’s tardiness was nothing new and certainly not unexpected. Del Rey was a dancer at the club, and the personification of the term “sex on two legs.” With dark hair extensions that stretched down to her bottom and Double D breasts which were always on display, she did nothing to dispel the stereotype of what a stripper looked and acted like. However, out of herself, Bubbles and Tulip, two of the other dancers at the club who Lenox and Bambi hung around with, she was the most down to earth. Although she could be materialistic and erred slightly on the side of slutty, she was someone you could count on when needed. Lenox knew she would always have his back.

  “Don’t worry about it. I already texted him saying we were with you and that we would catch up on what was missed when we got there,” Lenox reassured her.

  “Aww, Lenox, you’re an absolute dollll.” She made a pouty face as she looked back at him in her rear-view mirror and put the car into park.

  They got out of the car and made their way into the building from the rear entrance reserved purely for the dancers and staff. Lenox caught a profile of Del Rey from behind, her long raven-coloured hair swaying from side to side as she walked.

  “Jesus, Del Rey, do you actually own any underwear?” he remarked, noticing their absence despite her illicitly short skirt.

  “I do, actually. I just…prefer not to wear them.”

  THE THREE OF them snuck into the very informal meeting just as Benz, the boss and owner of Sunrise Strip, was finishing up his talk. He stood atop a chair, making him appear more giant-like than he normally was.

  Nothing about the place was what you’d expect from a London strip club. Including Benz. Besides the fact that he was gay and owned a strip club for straight men, he was also the best boss a stripper could ask for because he actually cared for his dancers like they were his daughters. He had the stature of a bouncer and was made of nothing but muscle. His long blond hair flowed down past his shoulders and his skin was permanently tanned, as if he had forever just returned from a holiday abroad.

  “He’s a major VIP, so please treat him as such. Regardless of how much of an asshole he tries to be.” Benz continued his speech, clocking the three latecomers out of the corner of his eye and trying to hide the annoyance that flashed across his face. “Right, have a good night, everyone.” He stepped off the chair on which he was perched and quickly made his way over to the three of them. “You guys all right?” he asked, his eyes searching theirs in a way that emanated genuine concern.

  Bambi was the first to speak up, “Sorry we’re late…”

  “It’s my fault,” Del Rey interrupted. “First I slept through my alarm, then—”

  But Benz simply raised his right hand, signalling to them that excuses weren’t necessary. “You’re here now, so we’re all good,” he said, closing his eyes in that very zen way that had an instantly calming effect on all those who came in contact with him. The three of them waited until he opened them again, knowing better than to interrupt him before he was ready to speak. Nothing about Benz ever emanated stress. He was the epitome of serenity and calm, despite owning and managing a high-profile London club. When he finally opened his eyes, it was as if he had just returned from somewhere deep in his own mind, having gathered his thoughts. As he opened his mouth to spea
k, his expression had shifted once again, indicating he was now all about business.

  “Right. Lenox, we need high energy tonight. Especially since our VIP guest owns a number of the top hotels in Vegas. He’s heard about us and is here to check out the scene and possibly invest if he likes what he sees, so I need you to be on top of your game tonight.”

  Lenox nodded, and Benz winked at him.

  “Bambi, I need your eyes to be constantly on his section,” he went on. “If he looks in need of anything I want you on it even before he raises his eyes to ask. Understand?”

  “Got it.”

  “Del Rey,” Benz began, looking her up and down quickly and taking in her appearance, which verged on the obscene for this time of night.

  “Yeah, boss?” she asked, her large, surgically enhanced lips smacking away at a piece of pink bubblegum.

  “You just do what you do best up there on stage.”

  BY TEN O’CLOCK, the club was full to capacity. The VIP area was overflowing into the main stage area due to the hotel mogul from Las Vegas, whose party seemed to be multiplying by the minute.

  The girls on stage were on fire, shaking it and working every last seat in the room with a hunger Lenox had never seen before. The energy in the club was charged as, dance after dance, Lenox delivered banging tracks that seemed to breathe new life into the dancers, taking hold of their bodies and twisting them to his will.

  This was what he was good at. Lenox could read vibes and knew just what to mix in at what time to keep the audience engaged and the girls pumped. If heads started to look away in the crowd, then he knew he had to kick it up into high gear to keep those eyes locked on the girls. He remained engaged with the dancers, watching them and reading their movements, sensing what they needed and delivering it to them in the form of his tracks. When the clothes hit the floor, his job was only halfway done. He needed to take things home and stick with it until the last second.

  Or last twirl on the pole, as the case may be.

  Lenox was giving it everything he could to keep the energy up, aware of the watchful gaze of Benz, who never seemed to stray too far from sight, keeping an eye directed towards the VIP area. But Lenox had to focus hard to stay in the game tonight, for each time he played a new track he couldn’t help but imagine he was already on holiday. If he closed his eyes long enough and let the beat wash through him he could almost feel the sand between his toes and the Ibizan sun on his face.

  Just before midnight, and between dances, Bambi rounded up Del Rey, Tulip and Bubbles and brought a round of Porn Star shots to Lenox in the DJ booth. The five of them had grown closer and closer since meeting at the club almost four years ago, and despite looking like characters from The Island of Misfit Toys when they went out together, they each brought something special to the friendship.

  Lenox was the dreamer, forever with his head in the clouds, while Bambi was the responsible one, making plans and always very methodical in her thinking. Del Rey played up to how people viewed her as the sexy tomcat, while Bubbles was the ditz, right down to her blonde ringlets and high-pitched East-London-meets-Valley-girl voice. Then there was Tulip, who gave new meaning to the label “wild child.”

  But regardless of their differences, when they were together, everyone got along.

  “Right, ladies and gent, this time tomorrow we will be trashed and dancing the night away!” Bambi shouted over the thumping bassline, raising a shot glass in the air.

  “Aren’t we trashed and dancing the night away right now?” Tulip shouted back, her wide mouth open in an ear-to-ear grin.

  “Yes, but tomorrow we’ll be doing it in fucking Ibiza, baby!” Del Rey countered, tipping the shot glass back and downing hers prematurely.

  “Oi, you’re supposed to wait for us!” Bubbles giggled before following suit and swallowing hers in one big gulp.

  “You’re all ruining my cheers,” Bambi moaned, only half-serious.

  “Oh shut up, B, and drink your drink!” Lenox joked, touching his shot gently to hers and meeting her gaze before tossing back the fruity liquid and slamming the glass down on the black marble counter that surrounded his decks.

  “Is everything sorted with the villa?” Bambi asked, a flash of concern shadowing her wide-eyed and innocent features.

  “Yes, yes, yes, don’t worry your pretty little head,” Tulip said with a dramatic eye-roll.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, Bambi.”

  “You’re sure you’re sure?” she asked again for emphasis, a smile tugging at her full lips.

  “Are you for real?” Tulip joked back. “Yes, I’m sure. My uncle said we can enjoy his villa for the whole week. The keys will be left with his cleaning lady, who will meet us outside at noon. And we can even take out the jet skis if we want!”

  “What? He’s got jet skis? For real?” Lenox asked, his face lighting up.

  “Yup. There’s a little dock just down from the guest house, so we have our own private launch pad, if we so desire.”

  “Yes, we so desire!”

  “I thought you might. This is going to be the most killer holiday. I can’t freakin’ wait!” Del Rey shouted back.

  The group let out a chorus of whoops as the bass picked up and spiked into an incredible drop that had all their asses shaking around the booth. For a moment, they all lost themselves in the music as they closed their eyes and let their bodies move to the beat. The sound of the drum and bass hammered the air around them, piercing it with its rhythmic sway and relentless hold. Lenox opened his eyes for a moment to adjust the monitor volume on the decks and noticed someone standing and staring at them about fifty feet away.

  He strained his eyes to focus, finding it odd that someone could be drawing attention from the girls on the stage, but the flashing strobe lights made the figure’s shadow dance and shake to the point where their face remained in darkness. Lenox stilled for a moment and closed his eyes tightly before opening them and looking again, hoping it was all a trick of the lights and the booze making him see things. But the shape was still there.

  He instantly thought it was him. He must have followed Lenox to work.

  How long has he been watching me?

  It was the eerie stillness with which the person stood, hands resting limply at their sides, that drew his attention.

  So still. Unmoving.

  Lenox reached out for Bambi and pulled her out of the dancing circle.

  “B, it’s—”

  Bambi looked at Lenox and followed his gaze to the empty space in front of him.

  “What? What is it, Lenox?”

  “I thought I saw…”

  But the shape was gone.

  Bambi must have recognised the signs of Lenox’s rising panic. She placed a hand on his shoulders and stood directly in front of him, trying to gain control of the situation.

  “Look at me, Lenox. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re safe.” She spoke each short sentence in an assured tone that worked to calm him in the way she had been taught.

  “I’m good. Thank you. Sorry.”

  Bambi led him back towards his group of friends. Lenox caught her stealing a look behind her, just in case.

  Chapter Three

  NOW

  “Could you please state your name for the record.”

  The woman’s voice was less than feminine, tinged with a lilting Spanish accent, and reminded him of the way steel would sound if it could speak.

  He returned her question with silence, his eyes staring intently down at his balled-up fists which were nestled tightly in his lap. The room was quiet with the only noises being a ticking sound coming from the clock on the wall and the humming of the decades-old air conditioning that wasn’t doing its job too well anymore.

  “Your name?” she tried again, more forcefully this time around—if that were even possible. Her irritating tone jarred him from his thoughts and he peered up at her from behind his long lashes.

  “You know my name.” His tone was clipped and
void of any emotion.

  The woman shifted in her chair, but her eyes never left his face. Her partner remained fixed in place, unmoving and unfazed by his unwillingness to cooperate.

  “Perhaps you weren’t made aware of the seriousness of this situation.”

  “Am I being charged?” he asked. But he already knew the answer to that and the silence from the officers only confirmed his suspicions. His lips lifted into a smug smile as his eyes drifted back down to his hands.

  The female officer proceeded to sift through the envelopes on the table, taking out photographs in hopes of jarring a certain reaction from him. But his eyes didn’t shift as she had hoped. Their colour seemed drained and dull, as if faded somehow. Even his skin had lost its summer glow and appeared almost grey in the fluorescent lighting.

  “We’re investigating the deaths of four individuals. All young men under the age of thirty.”

  Her hands flitted over four A4 photographs that she adjusted carefully on the table like images from some grotesque shopping catalogue.

  Her partner leaned in, placed his forearms on the table that separated them, and steepled his hands under his chin. The officer’s sudden movement caused him to look up quickly.

  “Sir, apparently—” He paused on the word. “We have reasonable grounds to suspect your involvement in numerous indictable offences, involving one case of manslaughter and three of murder.” The officer’s tone was direct and forceful, but questioning at the same time as if he himself didn’t believe his accusation.

  He fought a slight lip quiver, praying that the officers hadn’t noticed his reaction. The smugness gone, he opened his mouth to respond but no words came out.