by Ashley Logan
Performing my last checks, I test the brown leather cords that crisscross up my calves, making sure they’re secure. Covering myself with the large, round shield Vi and I found today, I make calculated, suggestive steps toward the floor-to-ceiling pole at center stage as the audience welcomes me with applause and hollers. I don’t really pay attention. It’s all background noise to the story running through my head. The one I’m about to act out for all to see, but intend for only one. Glancing towards the door, I see him in the shadows, his black coat helping him merge with the darkness.
Our eyes meet for just a moment before I turn my sight inward. What I’m about to do takes immense concentration.
The music begins slowly. One at a time, I expose each bare limb, teasing the audience with what lies beneath, but this is not a slow dance. This dance will not be my usual smooth seduction.
This is about heat. The music begins to pump and so does my blood.
I love to dance. Always have. It’s why I enjoyed cheerleading so much; I could use my gymnastic flexibility and strength, and get my groove on all in one go. Pole dancing lets me do that too, but in a much less innocent way, which I love even more.
With sharp, focused movements, I dance around the pole as a warrior in attack mode. Spinning the shield, I weave it in and out of my dance before ridding myself of its cumbersome form. Dancing freely, I show Bruno what he’s missing out on. Throwing off my Viking armor with its belted straps and metal breastplate, I thrust out my chest in challenge, displaying my curves and each muscles I’ve worked hard to define. Wearing only a set of skimpy booty shorts, some thin leather cords and my war paint, I stretch myself with each movement, creating the long lines my dance teachers always told me I excelled at. I was destined for greatness, they’d said.
New anger burns in me and I flip my body, trying to whip the fury from myself with each movement. Just at the right time, I jump for the pole, spinning myself around it and up it. Pulling myself up-side down, I hook my leg, climb higher and flick my legs out straight. Spinning slowly, I rearrange my body, split my legs and leave my back arching. Always in control, I make each transition seamless, bending my legs at sexy angles and thrusting myself into people’s memories as they admire my grace and strength.
I forget about what I look like on the outside. All I am, is searing passion inside and I want to release it through my dancing. A fuse is lit inside me.
Each movement is sharp, crisp and clean. Each line I hold is perfectly cast; rigid with the smoldering fire. I focus the energy and turn it into sensuality. Suddenly, my body isn’t muscle and bone, but something more fluid. The pole is my lover and I tease it relentlessly, pulling myself against it and slowly dragging myself over its smooth surface.
The beat of the music quickens and my movements match it. Thrusting and snapping into place, I work the pole like I’ve never worked it before. I show Bruno what he could have had. What he should have wanted when he had the chance. He won’t get another.
The beat dulls, fading a little before the final lift at the end of the song. I use it to show Bruno how his rejection made me feel. Collapsing inward halfway up the pole, I show the audience my back, creating a cowering, crouched figure as I slowly spin, pulling myself a hand higher with each rotation. Reaching the top, I curl my body around the pole, holding it between my stomach and my thighs. Pausing a moment, I drop dramatically to the bottom, squeezing my abs to my thighs to stop myself before I hit the deck.
I know it must have been effective to watch, because I hear the audience gasp and then clap and hoot in relief. Slowly unfurling myself, I keep my back to them as I work my way higher. Each position I use to get to center-pole displays progressively more strength, as if I lost a battle, but am rising to win the war.
My song is ending, playing out its last aggressive beats. When I reach my mark, I get into my final position. Using the back of my neck and the back of one knee to hold the pole, I set myself in a final slow rotation, raising my arms as if exhibiting myself in the glory that is me. One full rotation leaves me facing the audience and the response is overwhelming as they see the full effect head on. My arms are wings and I have risen again.
Phoenix.
The curtain falls and I stay where I am for just a minute longer, needing to believe what they see.
Taking the pole in hand again, I slide back to earth.
“That was some show, Scar,” Smith says, handing me my robe as he collects my discarded costume pieces. “If he was watching, he’ll be kicking himself for letting you go.”
My eyes nail him as he stands from retrieving my shield. “Who?” I ask, taking the shield.
“Whoever was dumb enough to piss you off,” he says, confused. “Is that not what that was?” he asks, poking his thumb at the pole.
Gripping the shield tighter, I don’t answer and he shrugs. “Maybe I was reading it wrong. See you at debrief,” he says lightly, giving me a nudge towards the dressing room as he heads out to the club floor.
When I get back to the dressing room, all the girls are robed and watching the door as if they’re waiting for me. The looks on their faces tell me they’ve just rushed back through the private corridor from the staff viewing section backstage.
“Oh man.” I set my shield down and fold my arms over my chest. “You were all watching?”
“Wouldn’t have missed that for anything,” Vi says, a huge grin on her face. “You are a sexy beast, Scarlett Warner, and I can tell you right now there’s a detective waiting for me who will be very grateful to you tomorrow! Holy shit! Do you even know how freaking hot you are?”
“Firstly, ew. Don’t include me in your sex life like that. And second, did it look that good? Because it felt amazing!”
Alexa comes and slings her arm around my waist. “It was indescribably good,” she confirms. “You and I are definitely going out this weekend to get you some action. You cannot keep that shit locked away, Scar. It’s sinful.”
I laugh, because I’m sure everything we do comes across as sinful in some respect. “Fine. I could use a good stiff-” I stop when I feel what is becoming an all too familiar heat behind me. Whirling around, I meet Bruno’s fearful gaze. Why the hell does he look so scared?
“A good stiff what?” Lex probes as she turns to see what I’m looking at. She stops laughing as soon as she sees Bruno’s expression.
“Drink,” I answer, not wanting to say what I was about to with Bruno standing right there. Besides, I suddenly feel like alcohol might be of assistance.
“Can we talk? Please,” he adds, eying the rest of the room warily. “Does anyone else want a drink?”
Of course, all the girls crack up, because based on our conversation before he appeared, all of us are imagining he’s offering something else.
Scowling, he turns and walks away.
CHAPTER NINE
BRUNO
Retreating from the dressing room, I head back to the bar. The crowd is still buzzing from Scar’s set, but it’ll die down soon when they all start to leave.
Benji sees me coming and sets a beer on the bar before I arrive.
“Thanks.”
“Looks like you need it,” he says, stacking a tray of glasses for the dishwasher. “You still wanna come to the shop tomorrow?”
“Definitely.” Raising my beer to him, I take it with me back to my post by the door, monitoring the crowd.
Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, I get to my feet, trying to see the cause. Growling, I set my beer down.
“You ran away again,” she says, her face still painted for battle.
“You shouldn’t be here, Scar,” I warn quietly, shifting to hide her with my body as I watch the crowd. “Not after the show you just put on.”
“I thought you wanted to talk.”
“In private, not on the floor with a mob of horny bastards drawn to your scent,” I say through gritted teeth. “Stay behind me and very slowly back up until you can reach the pin-pad, punch in the code and get upstai
rs. Make sure the door locks shut behind you,” I say, curving my arms behind me to herd her as I step back.
“You’re over-reacting,” she huffs, but does as I’ve told her.
“If you honestly think that, then you have no idea how powerful you are,” I say, eying the approaching men, who have spotted her and decided it’s a good time for a ‘coincidental’ meeting with her as they exit the building. “If you don’t want to be groped by upward of... eight intent-looking pervs, then I suggest we move a bit faster.” Touching a hand to my collar radio, I call Coop and Smith for back up.
Scar swears and punches in the code at speed.
Our movement has not gone unnoticed and there are several alcohol-fueled men rushing to get to Scarlett before I can get her out of their range. I hear the door click open.
“Get in! And hit the other locks!” I cry above the noise of the approaching mob. The door shuts and I hear the locks click into place. Breathing a sigh of relief, I straighten to full height as my beer is knocked over.
“Nothing to see here! If you are wanting to pursue Phoenix, you will do so at your own risk. This behavior is unacceptable at Beyond. If you wish to return, you will pay a fine at the door in apology and recognition of your wrong-doing. We will both know who you are,” I say, eying the five closest to me and memorizing their features. “My friends are behind you. Please watch your step as you vacate the building in an orderly manner.”
One guy looks behind to validate my warning of back up. Looking Smith and Coop up and down, his expression loses its determination and he shrinks in defeat. The others draw the same conclusions and soon enough the troublemakers leave. They’re followed promptly by the remaining crowd, talking animatedly as they pass, about the last set and what just happened.
Smith does a circuit of the club as Coop goes to check on the rest of the girls, who should have locked themselves into the dressing room when the call for back up came through the speaker there. Smith circles back and gives me a nod. I lock the outside doors and knock gently on the stairwell door that leads to the apartment.
“Scarlett?”
The locks click and she opens the door, her eyes wide and apologetic.
“Are you alright?” I ask, keeping my anger in check.
She nods. “Are you?”
“No. That was completely avoidable. You know the rules, Scar. They’re there for a reason. We were lucky that no-one was hurt,” I say calmly, trying not to imagine the worst case scenario. “What were you thinking?” I ask, taking in the off-the-shoulder t-shirt that doesn’t quite cover her tiny booty shorts. Her nipples point proudly through the thin fabric, free of a bra. She must have disrobed and thrown on the shirt to come charging after me. Closing my eyes, I release a pained sigh.
“It’s my fault. If I hadn’t pissed you off, you wouldn’t have been hell-bent on putting me in my place.” Looking to the floor, I sigh again. “Go on up. I’ll explain things to Prez.”
“Explain what?” she snaps. “That my emotional instability put everyone at risk? Your ego must be huge if you think you could knock me off balance. I made a mistake and I can explain that to Prez myself,” she says, pushing past me in the direction of the dressing room.
Smith jumps out of her way before she can mow him down. Looking at me, he shakes his head.
“Dude. Don’t play with fire! If a chick is already angry, don’t provoke her. Did you not see her show?”
Picking up my spilled bottle, I set it on my stool, wanting more than anything to fire it across the room at the wall. “I saw it.” Surveying the puddle on the floor, I head behind the bar to get the mop.
Me and the guys clean up the bar while Kat, Vi and Reeni tidy around the tables. Everyone works quietly and quickly, anxious to get to debrief and talk about what happened.
When the work is done, I follow the others, dragging my feet. Walking to the kitchen, I grab myself a beer before taking the only seat left, next to Teeny. There’s not quite enough room as she and Benji huddle together to accommodate my size. Sighing, I wave them back to where they were and sink to the floor, leaning against the couch instead.
Teeny pets me on the head to make me move forward so she can change position. When I settle back, she begins rubbing the tension from my shoulders. It feels glorious.
I didn’t used to like it when she did this, but I’ve gotten used to her ways and she gives a great massage. She doesn’t mean anything by it, she just reads people’s tension well and doesn’t like them dwelling in it. I kind of like having a woman touch me in a nice way without expecting anything from me.
The room is quiet and I wonder who will speak first. If it’s quiet too long, Prez usually steps in to get the ball rolling. There is movement over in the far corner and Scarlett stands up.
“I just want to apologize to everyone for the near miss tonight. I broke the rules. Luckily, we have effective protocols and the right people to execute them. Bruno had quick reactions and gave calm instructions and Smith and Cooper were right where they needed to be too. I’m sorry for any stress I may have caused anyone. It won’t happen again.” Sitting back down, she fidgets with the hem of her t-shirt and stares at her lap.
“You’re forgiven,” Benji says, pulling himself to the edge of his seat. “Can we talk about your set now? Because damn that was some fine pole work and I was not surprised at all that some of the lads were wanting to meet you up close and personal.”
Just like that, the room comes to life with conversation as everyone gushes about Scar’s set.
Scarlett stands again, still holding the arms of her chair as if she needs the support. “Thank you for the kind words, though I don’t feel deserving of them after the way I acted. I love you all and your work inspires me more than you could know. I hope you don’t think I’m avoiding things, but I’m very tired,” she says, checking the clock. “I’m going to take myself to bed before I snore through debrief again.”
Looking at the clock, I see it’s closing in on 2a.m.
“How do you think it went Bruno?” Nina asks, pulling my attention back to the group. Scarlett freezes, halfway across the room, her balance a little off.
“I think it went as well as can be expected. The situation was easily de-escalated once the object of desire was secured. I think our methods work well and will continue to work well. As long as we stick with the rules, there should be no further issue. I also think it’s important to test our methods from time to time, to ensure their effectiveness. This incident offered an opportunity for that, however in future, I would prefer it if they were scheduled to occur within measured safety parameters. That’s all I have to say.” Exhaling after my rapid speech, I give Violet a hard stare, flicking my eyes towards Scarlett.
Recognizing my thoughts instantly, she stretches her arms and stands.
“I’m beat too,” she says, bumbling intentionally behind Scarlett so she can reach out to help Scar under the guise of steadying herself. “Help me to bed, warrior princess?”
“Sure,” Scarlett says, sounding half asleep already as she links her arm through Vi’s. They vanish down the hall and I finish my beer.
“Would anyone like to share, or add anything else?” Nina asks, swirling her tea before finishing it. Everyone looks around, making dismissive noises and Nina shrugs. “Debrief over then. Thanks for the great work tonight everyone. I’ll see you in the morrow,” she says, securing her robe properly. Surrounded by goodnight wishes and thanks, Nina bats them all away with a smile and wave as she leaves for her tiny apartment upstairs.
“Anyone want a drink?” I ask, getting up from the floor.
“I’d like an herbal tea, but I’ll make it,” Alexa says, stretching out. “If you could just put the kettle on while you’re up?”
“Sure thing, Lex.”
Grabbing another beer, I set the kettle on before retiring to my bedroom. Violet is waiting in her doorway.
“She go down alright?” I ask, nodding at Scarlett’s door.
“
You say that like she’s a baby,” Vi says with a smirk. “I’m going to see Serge. Will you keep an eye on her overnight?”
I scoff. “You say that like she’s a baby,” I say, mimicking her. “Of course I will. And I know she’s no baby, Vi.” Rubbing a hand over my face, I look to the floor. “I fucked up today.”
“You think?” She takes a step closer and gives me a playful punch on the shoulder. “Hang in there, big guy. She won’t hate you forever.”
My head snaps up. “She hates me?”
Vi laughs and shrugs into her coat. “No, but you should see your face.”
I pull a face at her. “You need an escort anywhere?”
“Nah, Serge is meeting me out front in...” She checks her phone. “One minute, unless he’s already there.”
“Have a good night, then. Don’t break the poor man,” I say, heading into my room as she retreats down the hall.
“I’m not promising!” she calls back, a smile in her voice.
WHEN THE SCREAMING starts, I’m ready for it. Rushing to her room, I pull Scarlett’s blankets from her, wondering how she gets herself so wound up in them to begin with. I shake her out of her nightmare.
“Scarlett!”
“Kenny?”
Her eyelids flicker, but don’t open. Suddenly, she’s thrashing out with her fists. “Where were you?” she cries as she pummels me.
“Scarlett! Wake up!” Dodging her punches, I wrap my arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides. “Scar, it’s me! Bruno!”
Her body stills. “Bruno?” she squeaks.
Releasing my hold on her, I sink to my knees on the floor. “I’m here. It was just a dream.”
Sniffing, she wipes at her face and pulls herself up to lean against the wall. I hand her the pillow that has fallen to the ground and she gingerly takes it and puts it behind her back. Her eyes lift to her open door and across the hall to Vi’s room.