by J. D. Sloane
“Thanks,” she said undoing her black feather choker from her throat as she turned the lights on with a slap of her palm. “You should tell Melissa to be careful out there. Those college boys are a little handsy tonight.”
Alicia tossed her choker onto her marquis lit dressing table and glanced around the closet sized room quickly before shutting the door, sitting down in front of the mirror as she reached for her cigarettes. She tapped the edge of one against the formica table and then lit it in one snap, glancing towards the door as she listened to a sudden hustle of girls moving past. She looked at her face carefully for moment, brushing her shoulder length red hair behind her ears and then glanced at the door again as she reached under her vanity and pulled out a small shoebox, pushing aside the long black feather boa inside as she pulled out three wallets, all cheaply made.
Not exactly the kind of place high rollers come to spend an evening, she thought, flipping through each one carefully as she emptied them of bills. Oh well. Girl’s got to make a living somehow. And it wouldn’t be nearly so necessary if those greedy bastards up front didn’t take half of everything we earn.
She looked up quickly as someone knocked on the door, her wide gold eyes suddenly alert and catlike and swept the pile of money and wallets back into the box with both hands, tucking the boa around it as she shook her head.
“Hold on, hold on,” she said tossing the box back to the floor as the door creaked open, her handler looking her over slowly as she reached for her cigarette. She saw his face shift with disappointment as he noticed that she was still dressed and looked back at the mirrors as she examined her make-up, the heavy black liner around her eyes making her eyes seem almost magnetic.
“What is it, Chris? I told you. No requests tonight. That last guy was a total freakshow. I think my arm is still out of socket.”
Chris leaned in the doorway as she let out a stream of smoke, looking her over in that flat, calm way she hated. The one that said that at the end of the day, no matter how many airs she put on she was still just a glorified prostitute.
Correction, she thought, adjusting her wings slightly as he watched her. A desperate, wanted fugitive playing prostitute. One who’s hiding out here at the grace of his charity alone.
“Yeah, I told him that,” Chris said holding up a wad of bills as her head turned towards it like a shot. “But the guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. There’s twenty-five hundred in it for you, if you’re game.”
“Twenty-five hundred? Some guy just paid you five thousand dollars for a private dance?”
“He did,” Chris said, tossing the bills onto her dressing table as she looked it over hungrily for a moment. “So be nice to him, huh? I’d like to see that kind of business in here again.”
Alicia picked up the stack of bills and counted it quickly as Chris knocked on the door frame, his face becoming impatient.
“Room seven, Lexi. Let’s not keep him waiting.”
Alicia stood up as Chris walked back down the hallway and picked up her black feather choker off of the table, her stomach suddenly a bundle of nerves as she latched it behind her neck.
Five thousand dollars, she thought crouching down as she added the wad of bills to the shoebox below her vanity. Jesus! Who pays five thousand dollars for a private dance? And what if he doesn’t like it? What he asks for something I won’t do? Is turning a customer down even an option with money like that on the table?
Alicia locked her door behind her and then headed down to the private rooms at the end of the hall, glancing at her reflection in the mirrors as she passed. She took a deep breath as she came to the door, trying to radiate an aura of authority and then let out her breath as she turned the handle.
Who am I kidding? She thought, chewing her lip girlishly as she walked through the door. This guy knows I have to say yes. Just do whatever he wants and get it over with. Let’s hope he’s not a total headcase like the last one.
She looked up as she saw that the man was sitting in the middle of the room, his face half-hidden in shadows and felt all the air leave her lungs at once as Ronan White looked back at her across the room, his wide dark eyes spinning with a rush of wild amusement before going still. Alicia felt her mouth fall open and shut it quickly as she closed the door behind her, leaning her back against it until she heard a low click.
Ronan looked over her body curiously for a moment, his dark eyes following the long line of her black wings before settling on her face and she bit the inside of her cheek as she felt tears prick the back of her eyes, the relief at seeing him again catching her so off guard that she glanced away.
“Miss me?” Ronan said, brushing his knuckle across his sensuous lips slowly as he tilted his head at her. Alicia blinked at the casual amusement in his voice and took a step closer as his eyes rolled down the front of her costume, tracing the curves of her body so closely that she paused, trying to figure out what was different about them.
“I did,” she said walking around his chair slowly as Ronan turned to watch her, brushing her fingers along edge of his chair as she tried to convince herself he was actually there. “I thought you were…”
She pressed her lips together as Ronan raised his brows at her as if waiting for her to continue and then shook her head as she felt that wave of tears prick behind her eyes again.
“Dead?” He asked, his low gravelly voice clipped and annoyed as he leaned towards her slightly. “Yes, I keep hearing that rumor myself. It gets under your skin after a while, believe it or not.”
“He shot you. The Archangel he…”
Ronan raised his hand quickly as his eyes closed, his pale, too handsome face struggling for calm as he rolled his neck to one side.
“Please,” he said, dropping his hand as he raised his brows at her. “No more about him. I’ve had about all I can take of these deluded citizens out there holding him up like some kind of high school hero. It’s enough to drive even the most rational person insane.”
“But you fell into the river. How did you make it out alive?”
Ronan raised his brows at her and gave her slight shrug, his dark eyes dancing in the soft light above them as he sat back against the chair and rested his elbows on his knees.
“Now that really was a trick. And I promise I’ll tell you all about it. I will. Some other time.”
Alicia shifted on her heels as his face softened slightly and then rolled his finger towards her as he looked over her wings again.
“So, is this a full-time thing for you? The whole act?”
“Why?” Alicia asked, leaning towards the chair slowly as she looked him over for a moment. “Don’t you like it?”
She felt that strange thrill of confusion again as she saw Ronan’s eyes snap to her face, tracing the pouty line of her mouth with a kind of pointed, unhealthy interest.
“Very much,” he said, dragging the words out until they were almost a caress. “The wings are a nice touch. Even the name. I like it. It suits you. It was all very- professional.”
“Right,” Alicia said, brushing his long dark red hair behind one ear as she gave him a smirk. “The oldest profession in the world. Selling sex to freaks who want to pretend they’re fucking a fallen angel.”
Ronan looked up at her, his jaw rolling slightly, and she cleared her throat as she shoved her hair behind one ear, standing up again as his wide, dark eyes swept over her face with a strange, unnerving intensity.
“Is there something you wanted me to do for you?” She asked finally, her voice wavering with a moment of uncertainty as Ronan raised his brows.
“Hmm,” he said, his face suddenly filling with a carefully controlled interest as she paced around him. “What do men usually have you do?”
“Well they usually have me undress,” she said as she dragged her fingers across the back of his chair. “And then it depends.”
“On what?”
Alicia paused in front of him and shrugged, looking him over
slowly as she rested her hand on her hip.
“On how much they paid,” she said, meeting his gaze squarely as his eyes moved over her open legs with a deliberate sort of leisure.
Alicia walked towards Ronan slowly, watching his eyes shift over her body with the strange, frantic fascination of a sleepwalker and felt heart constrict painfully as she placed it, her eyes going wide as the music waned and he glanced at the ceiling.
“Sounds like the music stopped,” he said, the ghost of a smile dancing around the edges of his lips as he brushed his knuckle across them again, something violent and unchecked dancing behind his polite expression.
I have his attention, Alicia thought, her face softening with surprise as she swallowed hard and then walked to the front of his chair, sliding to her knees in front of him as she held his gaze. For once I have all of it. He’s here. He’s mine.
She ran her tongue over her lips as Ronan looked down at her with an expression that was almost gentle and then brushed his fingers down the soft curve of one cheek as he leaned towards her.
“I do see you, you know,” he said as Alicia placed her hands on his knees, his eyes so bright and bottomless they seemed to magnify every empty place in her soul. “Completely.”
Alicia closed her eyes as Ronan touched the feather choker at her throat, his fingers dancing behind it lightly for moment as she curled the fabric of his pants beneath her fingertips. She opened her eyes as he tugged at it a little harder and rolled her eyes up to meet him as he cocked his head curiously at her, her face so fragile and love starved that he grinned.
“This is the part where you tell me what to do,” Alicia said, her voice soft and rushed.
“That is always my favorite part,” Ronan said, raising his brows at her as his expression changed slightly. Alicia watched his smile darken as he leaned over her and closed her eyes as she felt Ronan dig his fingers beneath her collar again, his lips brushing against her cheek as he spoke.
“So. Lexi. Mind if I call you Alice?”