“He sent me a pic of Gunner and me yesterday. Said he’s going to have his way and I just know that picture was a threat. I can't let him hurt my boy.”
“Fuck, honey. Did you tell Dick?”
“Dick’s scared shitless of him, which only adds to my fear. I’ve never seen him back down so much.” That was the absolute truth. Dick, for the most part, had our backs, so this uncharacteristic behavior of his only made me realize that I didn’t have much choice.
“What are you going to do?” Her hand settled on my shoulder to offer me comfort.
“What choice do I have? I’m going to do my set and then I’ll go in the room with him.” Just saying that made me sick.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, fuck.”
“Marjorie, you’re on,” Dick called from the doorway just as Sky moved from behind a large row of clothes. I didn't know she was back there and I wondered how much she’d heard. I fixed the smear of my makeup and then finished fastening my thigh high black plastic boots.
My first set tonight was a newer routine. I’d only done it a few times and every time the crowd went nuts. I usually loved it, but with the knowledge of what tonight had in store for me, I wasn’t nearly as pumped as I should be.
I fixed my half cat mask and checked my bodice on my Cat-girl suit. Everything fit perfectly.
“Damn, girl. You look hot.” Sky appraised me.
“Thanks,” I sighed wishing I wasn't the object of any man’s dreams. Gone were the days I was invisible and I’d have done anything to become the girl no one saw again.
“Heard you talking to Marjorie. Looks like you could use a drink.” She handed me a flask. Normally, Sky wasn't nice to me, so I had no idea why she was handing me her drink, but to hell with it. She was right. I needed to calm my nerves. I took a swig and attempted to hand the cold silver flask back to her.
She tilted her head, “Finish it. Sounds like you need it more than me,” then she grabbed a drink tray and left me there.
A minute later, Marjorie walked back in. My routine was next. “How was it out there?”
“Rowdier than usual. Your guy’s at table six, but it’s pretty full out there and it looks like he’s doing business. Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll be too occupied?”
I could only hope that was the case.
“Char,” Dick called and I knew it was my time.
The lights were dimmed and I had a long black whip that I flicked against the stage in tune with the beat. My heel tapped in rhythm against the stage and the crowd quieted in anticipation. Christina Aguilera's “Dirty” thrummed and I pranced to the end of the stage while shaking my hips. The whip was an extension of me as I turned and swayed. My left leg crossed with my right. I spun so my back was to the crowd and bent as seductively low as I could. They were getting a show, that was for sure. More than half of my cheeks stuck out from my barely-there pleather shorts.
When I was vertical again I snapped the whip and for a second I felt powerful as if the single most vile man wasn't behind me plotting what he’d do to me. I hadn’t looked in his direction yet, I was too afraid. I danced. My mind started to feel a little fuzzy but I shook it off. I put the whip in my mouth and climbed the pole. Arm over arm, I realized they felt a little jelly like.
Shit, whatever Sky gave me to drink was stronger than I anticipated. From the top of the pole, I bent backward facing the crowd and when Christina belted out Dirty I unzipped my corset letting my breasts fall free. I moved in fast circles around the pole until I reached the bottom then freed myself from my top the rest of the way. Only black plastic stars covered my nipples.
I took the whip from my mouth and moved the handle between my legs. I rubbed it up and down teasing the crowd. As I did this my mouth popped open like I was in ecstasy. My tongue swept out and over my red lips. My eyes finally moved to table six and my steps faltered. Not because I was feeling a little woozy, which I was, and not because the devil Enrico was staring at me like he wanted to eat me. No, it was the man who was seated across from Enrico. A man I’d prayed to see one day, but never here. Never under these circumstances. For a brief moment, I stared transfixed in my place, missing my cue. I knew I needed to get on with the show. He wouldn't know it was me, half of my face was covered and my body had definitely changed since I was sixteen.
I knew it was him. I’d know him anywhere. I’d been staring at his eyes for the last seven years. He was the man who both saved me and broke me and there he was; drinking with the enemy.
I finished my set in a haze, not even sure how I made it off stage. I was definitely fucked up from whatever was in Sky’s drink, but I also was completely fucked up from seeing Gunner.
I had to get ready for my next set and I was even more afraid knowing that I didn’t wear a mask for the next dance. Maybe he wouldn't even recognize me? Gone was the mousy girl whose virginity he took before leaving her and never looking back. Hell, I’d barely recognized me. On the other hand, maybe he could help me? And maybe he could save me one more time?
Chapter Six-Gunner
The last thing I wanted to do was meet with this piece of shit in this piece of shit town, but we needed him. Enrico Santos was a fucking Colombian God, or so he proclaimed. Two reasons I was here. One, he was going to sell guns to either myself or to Hades. We were at war with Hades and couldn't let more guns fall into his hands. And two, we had a big fucking problem with the Mexicans. We needed this meeting with Enrico to go well tonight. I hated the fucker. Every time I’d been around him, I wanted to slit his throat because of his arrogance.
His men cowered to him. They feared him. I saw this as his biggest weakness. Better to have the loyalty of your men out of respect than fear.
I swirled the ice in the amber liquid and only partially listened as Enrico retold a story about killing a guy while getting a blow-job from a whore. Filthy fucker.
Shane was sitting across from me. I could tell he wasn’t amused either, but he was a far better actor than me. He smirked at the appropriate time, while I just wanted to rip the guy's throat out. We also had two of our guys, Knuckles and Donny with us. Both of them were big ass dudes, and I was glad to know they had our backs. They left their cuts at home to blend in. I about busted a nut laughing when I saw the redneck Duck Dynasty shirts they had on, courtesy of Walmart’s clearance rack.
Movement on the stage caught my attention. Hell, it caught every man’s attention. A woman dressed in a cat suit worked the stage. She didn’t just dance, she fucking prowled and pranced. She was sexy as hell. I was drawn to her. She had curves. And when her breasts poured from her top I had an overwhelming desire to cover her up. I felt protective and felt like they should only be for me, which was absurd--I was in a fucking strip club.
Enrico even stopped running his mouth, so he could watch her. I swear I saw his hand go under the table to rub his dick.
Briefly, it looked like the cat recognized me. She paused on stage and for a small second her steps faltered. For all I knew, it could’ve been the slime ball next to me, though.
A scantily dressed waitress walked by and I watched Enrico grab her arm, pull her close, whisper in her ear, and then pat her ass sticking a Benjamin in her panties.
“Damn, she’s fine,” one of Enrico’s goons said, breaking the mesmerized silence I’d been in.
“That she is. She’s one of mine.” Enrico threw back his drink and then got down to business just as the cat walked off the stage. “So, gentlemen, what is that you want from me?”
He damn well knew why we were here. He just wanted to hear us say it again. Shane was the better talker of the two of us. That’s why he was president of our club.
“A hundred-seventy-five,” Shane said cutting to the chase. He was low balling Enrico and we both knew it.
“Now, now, you know that’s not a fair price. I know you need me way more than I need you. I know about your problems with Hades.”
We knew he was aware of this, so Shane and I spent the next fif
teen minutes bargaining with the devil.
We just agreed on a price of two hundred and seventy thousand dollars when they called out a new dancer. Her back was to us and I saw that it was the same beautifully curved ass of cat girl. She wore a schoolgirl outfit and her dark hair was in pigtails. A plaid skirt barely covered her tight ass and her legs went on for miles landing in delicious red fuck me heels.
Enrico saying this girl was his made me want to hurt him even more.
“Porn Star” by My Darkest Days blared and the dark haired vixen bent over grabbed her ankles and peaked between her thighs. I couldn't see her face completely there were shadows and lights covering it. She moved to the pole and worked it, although, she did miss a few steps. She turned in circles, climbed it and threw her head back. It was then that my life was completely fucking altered.
My eyes met hers and there was no doubt that I was staring at those beautiful blue doe eyes. She had changed so much. She had filled out in all the ways I knew she would someday. Her hips were fuller. Her ass more curved, and her tits were so goddamned full and beautiful. If I thought I had a hard on for her when she was sixteen, it was nothing like what I felt right now. Rage started to build deep in my chest. What the fuck was she doing on a stage fucking taking her clothes off?
I wanted her. I had always wanted her, but I also wanted to take her over my knee and spank her ass for letting anyone other than me look at her. With even less grace, she landed at the bottom of the pole, then crawled and almost stumbled to the front of the stage. Her eyes, even through the dark lighting and strobing stage lights, looked glassed over.
Fuck! She wasn’t just a stripper, she was blitzed out of her ever-loving mind. Every instinct in me wanted to pull her off of the stage, but Enrico’s words echoed through my head. She’s one of mine. I had to be smart about this. With all my willpower, I took my eyes off of her. I listened to Enrico talk for another minute. He made a few comments about how the whore on stage would have his dick in her mouth before the night was over. I saw red and wanted to kill him, but knew I couldn't do a damn thing right then. Our club had worked hard to get this meeting with Enrico, and he had agreed to everything we needed from him. If I went off half cocked, there would be war with not just Enrico, but the Mexicans and Hades Runners too. My brothers’ lives were at stake.
I finished my drink and tilted the glass to Shane, who had been watching me curiously. He could tell something was up with me. He always had that insight. “Gonna hit the john,” I said and stalked down the dark hallway towards the bathroom.
I didn't waste time. I hurried into the dressing room. Robes hung by the door. A blonde was in front of a mirror adjusting her tits in her teddy. Make-up covered the table in front of the mirror and clothes were everywhere. The room stunk of cheap oil and bad perfume.
“You can’t be in here,” she said with little emotion in her voice.
I handed her a fifty, “I can do whatever the fuck I want. Now leave and tell no one you saw me.” Her eyes narrowed on me, but she took the fifty from me and left.
I stood in the back of the room hidden in the shadows. A moment later, the owner of the club stalked in with Charlie’s arm in his grip. “You’re trashed. You know you can’t be trashed at my club. What the fuck, Char?”
“Dick?” she asked confused as he sat her down in a chair. He shook his head at her and stormed out of the dressing room.
I was alone with her. At. Fucking. Last.
The second the door clicked I stalked her. She was waving her fingers in front of her face in wonderment. “What the hell are you doing, Charlie?”
It was like she didn’t hear me, which pissed me off even more. I moved her chair, crouched in front of her and stilled her hands. Her eyes were unfocused. “Charlie, look at me.”
“Gunner,” she sighed dreamily. Her voice was music to my ears. It was my favorite song. From the very first moment I ever heard her speak, it was a balm to my uneasy soul.
She blinked a few times as if trying to bring me into focus.
Rage, uninhibited rage, filled me. I had searched for her for years and here she was; stoned stupid in a fucking strip club. Her tits were hanging out and the only thing keeping her from being fully naked was a barely there black strip of silk between her legs and some fucking smiley face pasties glaring at me. The cheesy grin was a taunt.
I wanted to rip the stickers off and pull her dark nipple into my mouth. I still remembered how she’d react when I’d pull on them with my teeth. I remembered how her cheeks would flush when I’d sink my fingers into her tight pussy. Fuck, I’d jerked off to the memory of her milking my cock more than once.
I was so pissed at her. All this time, I’d searched. I wanted to hurt her for hurting me, but I could never hurt my Mouse, so I did the only thing my brain would let me do. I grabbed her shoulders almost violently, pulled her to me, and crushed my lips against hers.
Chapter Seven Charlie
My limbs were heavy and I was stumbling. The stage lights swirled in a dancing prism of colors. Dick grabbed me by the arm and threw me into the dressing room.
Nothing felt right.
And then I see you. You’re magnificent. I couldn't have dreamed up a more beautiful version of you. You’re big and ominous. Dark blonde, shaggy hair falls over your hazel eyes. A leather vest sits on your shoulders that have gotten even wider. You have tattoos on your arms. The colors swirl. I want to run my fingers over them.
You're kissing me. It’s different than any kiss we’ve shared. Hungry, but angry. My lips feel bruised from the punishing way your lips connect with mine. I want to ask you where you went and why you’re here, but that would stop this moment. This moment feels good. Then, your lips pull away from mine.
I’m stunned.
What was happening?
Everything was a blur.
What was happening to me? Why didn’t I feel right?
My pulse sped up. I could feel the thump, thump, thump in my head. My vision was spotty. You’re talking to me, but I don’t hear you. Something catches my eyes behind you. On the dressing table in front of my mirror is a vase filled with dark purple roses. I know these are not from you. Flowers were never your speed. I know who these are from because behind it is the picture of Gun and me. Even in my haze of confusion, I knew.
I was panicking inside. I wanted to scream and ask you to save me, but my lips are barely working. So, I say the one word that I hope will convey my fear, “Enrico.”
Chapter Eight-Gunner
Christ! Who was this woman in front of me? I broke from our kiss even more confused. She was so high. I wasn't even sure she knew it was me, and then as I stared at her, and asked her what the hell she was on, she called me Enrico.
Fucking Enrico.
If I was pissed before, I was even more so now. I wanted to hit something, and I wanted to kill Enrico. I needed to get away from Charlie before I did something seriously fucked up.
I started to move away from her when she slurred, “Gun, slys yours.”
What the fuck did that even mean?
My temper couldn't take it. “Jesus fucking Christ, Charlie! You’re fucking stoned,” I yelled. My blood boiled.
“‘Rico, dance,” she mumbled, not making any sense. She looked afraid, but I didn’t know what to make of any of it. All I heard was Enrico saying she was his and she kept repeating Enrico’s name. I’d loved her and held her on a pedestal for so long, and she was a fucking drug lord’s tweaked out pussy.
I ripped my gaze from her. I couldn't look at her. Everything I’d ever thought about and dreamed about pertaining to Charlie was being crushed. I’d thought of finding her one day, and making her mine like it was always meant to be. Hell, near every time I got my dick wet since we’d been apart, all I thought about was Charlie. On nights when I’d had to do unthinkable shit, it was the memories of Charlie that got me through, but now I could see that my Mouse was gone. I couldn't fucking handle it. So, I did the only thing I could do without losin
g my shit. I left, but not before delivering one final blow, “I can’t believe you’re his fucking whore.”
I returned to the table and Enrico’s eyes latched onto me. “You were gone a long time. Everything alright?”
“Bad tacos,” I rebutted and watched as both Shane, knowing I was lying, and Enrico, believing I was lying, narrowed their eyes at me. I sat down, not looking back at the stage. I needed to get the fuck out of there.
I threw back a shot of whiskey, still rattled from seeing Charlie, and listened to the plan with Enrico. It was a sound plan, and I had to admit, as much as I didn't like the guy, he didn’t get to be a king without being able to knock down some pawns.
“What the fuck was that?” Shane asked me as we were mounting our bikes, leaving the strip club behind.
“Not now, brother.” My nose flared, but I knew now wasn't the time for me to lose my shit. Donny and Knuckles spotted us, gave us a chin lift, and got into their truck. I started my Harley Street Glide, let it warm up for a minute since it had been sitting, and pulled out, but not before wondering if I’d ever see Charlie again, and how she could’ve gotten to the place she was in.
***
“Let’s celebrate!” Shane slammed his fist down as church ended. We had just finished going over the deal with Enrico and the guys were more than pleased.
Twenty of us filed out of church down a corridor and into a large area that had a makeshift bar on one side that was surrounded by tables, mismatched chairs and leather couches. There was a large flat screen behind the bar and the Browns were getting their asses handed to them A-fucking-gain. Lachlan and Anthony moved to one of the machines in the back of the building and powered it on. They had a piece they were machining for a custom bike they were working on. Our clubhouse was an old machine shop that was close to the highway and surrounded by other businesses. We machined several pieces for big corporations on a contractual basis. That was our main source of income.
Cut Wide Open (A Bleeding Scars MC Book 1) Page 6