GUTTER PRINCESS
Kimmie Easley
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.
Copyright © 2015 by Kimmie Easley
GUTTER PRINCESS by Kimmie Easley
All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Swoon Romance. Swoon Romance and its related logo are registered trademarks of Georgia McBride Media Group, LLC.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Published by Swoon Romance
Cover designed by Kelly Walker
Cover copyright © 2015 by Swoon Romance
Gutter Princess is dedicated to the magical city ~ NOLA.
GUTTER PRINCESS
Kimmie Easley
Chapter One
Baby Jade
Baby Jade lingered behind the heavy velvet drapes waiting for her turn to take the stage. She leaned in to peek around the dark room, not surprised to find it almost empty. She hated working the day shift. The money was no more than scraps. The tips didn’t amount to a cheap bottle of wine. Prime time was Friday night. Payday for most of the New Orleans locals. Tuesday afternoon was always a bust. However, if she wanted to keep her shitty job, that meant taking the occasional day shifts. And like everything she did, Baby Jade gave it everything she had. Night or day, Tuesday or Friday, didn’t make a difference. It wasn’t in her strong personality to do things halfway. Her character was all she had going for her. One jackass in the audience or standing room only, they always got the full show. Baby had worked too hard to make a name for herself. Big deal if it was being known as the town’s most sought after exotic dancer. She wasn’t going to risk her reputation by being too lazy or sloppy, like some of the other girls in the business who couldn’t get their shit together. She had seen how pathetic strippers were these days. They settled for a mere few dollars in their G-strings. Their main goal was landing a Daddy Warbucks and doing whatever necessary to keep him. Not that Bottoms Up was the kind of place to attract sugar daddy clientele.
The club was a two-story nestled in between an adult novelty store and an old abandoned building that was once a hopping jazz club. It had a raised basement that the girls used as a dressing room. Stairs led up to the front of the club, which was a large open room lined with private dancing booths with half wall partitions. They were supposed to be for the dancers’ safety, but it ended up looking like shit. The red velvet chairs tucked around the round tables had wheels, as if the drunks needed any help falling flat on their asses. The stage was shaped like a triangle, with the point leading to the pole. Tiny stools lined the stage, aptly named pervert row. The DJ booth was nothing more than an ancient stereo system on blocks streaming to the dangling speakers. A small wooden bar was tucked toward the back of the room next to the hallway with the dank restrooms. The other side of the room held two rickety pool tables. The floor was chipped up cement, and half of the bulbs were out in the lighting system. Mirrors in need of cleaning lined the walls behind the lap dance booths. Men loved to get the full visual as the girls did their grinding and slithering, the closest thing some of them would ever get to having sex.
Coral’s music ended, and Baby Jade watched her pick up a couple of single bills from the floor while gathering the tiny pieces of her costume. One guy got up to leave as Coral made her way backstage, leaving two others bellied up to the catwalk. Baby got a bad feeling when she saw the way their eyes were already glazed over, and it only got worse when one of them threw his hand up signaling for another round. A perfect example of why she hated the day shift. It brought out a whole new level of drunks. Stingy drunks.
Mickey’s voice sneered through the speakers. “Gents, you are in for a rare treat. We don’t usually get the opportunity to see this fine piece of action during the day. Prepare yourselves for the sizzling wonder known as Baby Jade.” He cued up the first song on her playlist, “Digital Bath” by the Deftones.
Baby Jade sucked in a deep breath and slipped one of her long, dark legs through the velvet drapes. It wasn’t the part of the body they were hoping to see, but she had found out a long time ago that the teasing sometimes led to a bigger payoff.
With the build at its peak, she stepped through the curtains and sauntered down to the front of the stage. The music pulsed through her veins as her hips rolled to the beat before slipping to the floor on all fours. It was way too easy to drive these two drunks insane. They hadn’t shut up since stumbling into the club, but now their gazes were fixated on her every move. She slithered to the edge, holding the stare of the one she considered the least gross, hoping he had more dollars in his pocket than he had teeth in his head.
Music had always been important to Baby Jade. From a young age, it created an escape from the hell known as her childhood. Today she used the same approach while on the stage. It was like an out of body experience, allowing the music to take over and control her mind and body, making them one. She would surrender and follow, much like a survival tactic.
After all this time, her body had memorized all the moves. She hit her mark every time without missing a beat, clear down to the hair tossing.
You didn’t have hair like Baby Jade’s without using it to your advantage.
The long, thick waves extended all the way down her back. The jet-black hair helped to set off her natural caramel-colored skin. Both were a contrast to her mesmerizing green eyes, the tantalizing color of jade.
Allowing her hair to hang over the edge, Baby Jade rolled over and popped the front of her deep purple corset. She arched her back, pushing her chest out before slowly rolling onto her belly, letting her hair fall over her face. She lifted her backside, propped herself up on her knees, and starting swinging her long mane.
She knew she owned whatever crumpled up bills they had left in their pockets by the way the two drunks savored her every move. She leaned back, aiming her pelvis in their direction before rocking back onto her bottom. She worked her way up the pole and vowed to give the men a show they wouldn’t soon forget.
By the time the song was over, the men had dug into their dingy jeans and held handfuls of dollar bills. They threw a couple onto the stage trying to bait Baby into coming closer. She hated when customers did that, but it was all part of the song and dance.
Baby Jade dropped to the floor and crawled on all fours with the perfect combination of seduction and playfulness. There was no denying they were hot and bothered. She could probably get the title to their cars at this point, but by the looks of it, they wouldn’t be worth the pieces of paper they were printed on.
“Hi there, boys. Enjoy the show?” she asked in a soft growl. Men are such simpletons.
“Mmmhmm, you know how to get me all worked up, Baby Jade,” Snaggletooth said, reaching for her. Before she could respond, a loud voice boomed from across the room.
“No touching!” Mickey yelled. She knew all hell was going to break loose as she watched him stalk across the room.
“Dude, chill. She came up to us.” The lesser disgusting of the two waved his hands in the air.
“Can’t read the damn sign? No? Let me help you, DO NOT touch the girls.” Mickey pointed to the rules hanging on the wall, speaking to the men as if they were three-year-olds.
She had seen this shit play out way too many times. It never ended well for
anyone. Baby Jade tried to intercept. “Guys, come on. Don’t get upset. Mickey, calm down. These nice fellas were letting me know they liked my show, right gentleman?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever you say. We’re outta here.” The two drunks stumbled toward the door but couldn’t make their escape before Mickey got in the last word.
“Don’t let me see your piss poor faces in here again!”
The heavy door creaked, filling the room with the midday sun.
“Dammit, Mickey! What the hell? You cost me a tip.”
“Don’t give me that shit, Baby. They didn’t have more than two dimes between ‘em. I don’t need that kind of riffraff in here. Stop letting them get close.” Mickey stepped toe to toe with her, and she smelled the stale beer roll off his hot, thick breath. He gave her the creeps. To say he was sleazy would be too generous, and the douchebag loved to push the boundaries with the girls.
Mickey was the owner and manager of Bottoms Up. He was in his early fifties and looked ten years older with a serious receding hairline. The few straggly strands of gray hair he had left were thin and greasy. He was close to six feet tall, but that didn’t do anything for his pot gut. His beady brown eyes appeared smaller due to a thick, heavy brow. His pudgy nose and spaced yellow teeth made her want to vomit. He was disgusting, and he ran the club the same way he ran his life. The place should have been shut down a long time ago. It was run down and dirty, breaking every code in the book. The worst part was the way Mickey treated the girls like his own property, for his pleasure or to share. He fed them liquor and anything else he could push down their throats to help limber them up. He had an endless supply of coke as long as he allowed his favorite dealer to write his own ticket at the club, which he did often.
Baby Jade didn’t want any part of it anymore and it pissed Mickey off. He made that loud and clear. Mickey still tried to buy her off, telling her she was one of his girls and he would treat her right. She could have all the free liquor she wanted, but Baby refused. It wasn’t that she didn’t drink, but she made sure to pay off her tab by the end of the month, never wanting to be in debt to Mickey again. Baby Jade promised herself she would never be put in that position again, knowing firsthand how he demanded payment.
Baby took a step back. “I can take care of myself. They were harmless. Let me handle my own business next time. That’s money out of my pocket, not yours.”
As she turned, Mickey slapped her on the backside. “What pockets?”
Instinct set in and she spun around on her heel and drew back.
Mickey seized her arm in mid-swing. “Don’t do it, bitch. You’ll be outta here and flat on your ass before you can give that sweet little thing two shakes.”
Mickey threatened her all the time; like he did all the dancers. She never knew if he’d actually go through with it or not since he was a ticking time bomb. Baby Jade was one of his best girls. She brought in the majority of his business. On the strip club circuit, she was considered a headliner.
She snatched her wrist from his grasp. “Go ahead, these dive joints are on every fucking corner in the city. I’ll be on another stage before the sun goes down.” Baby Jade stood firm, but it did nothing for her resolve to be standing there with her breasts hanging out.
“You don’t wanna threaten me, Baby. I will do it.” Mickey glared at her. “Get your sweet ass backstage and help clean house, and don’t give me any lip about it.” He stomped away before giving her a chance to challenge him any further.
Baby Jade rolled her eyes and grabbed her corset off the stage. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t going anywhere. As bad as things were at Bottoms Up, at least she knew what she was getting herself into, no surprises. If she left, it would mean starting all over again. There was always the possibility of having a boss far worse than Mickey. The stripping world was a dirty one. Some bosses didn’t wait for permission to do as they pleased, and they didn’t bother with the free booze and drugs to numb the pain. They got what they wanted other ways. And if things went too far, well, that explained the occasional dancer washing up in the lake.
Like it or not, Baby Jade was home.
The dank dressing room downstairs was more like a basement. It didn’t have windows. The dark room reeked with the nauseating smell that reminded her of a French whorehouse, mixed with cigarette smoke and sweat. Cheap tables piled with makeup and hair accessories lined the cement walls. Baby Jade got along with the other girls, for the most part. With any females, there were bound to be arguments and the expected territorial strut, but nothing too major. She could hold her own. Some of the girls were sweet, in a sad kind of way. Bottoms Up had a revolving door. Most of the girls came and went every few months looking for a brighter spotlight. At twenty-one, some of the girls had been known to look up to Baby. Assuming she was wise and she probably was compared to the others. Baby had definitely earned a lot of experience of the years.
Coral was sweeping the cement floor as Baby made her way down the concrete steps. She was a pretty redhead, with fair skin and hazel eyes. By far the shortest girl at the club, she stood less than five feet tall. This prompted her to wear six-inch heels everywhere she went. Baby ran into her at the laundry mat on their day off and was surprised to find Coral wearing a pair of booty shorts, a bright yellow halter top, and ruby-red studded stilettos. That girl certainly wouldn’t be winning a fashion award anytime soon. Regardless, she had been a welcome addition at Bottoms Up for the last four months, never causing any problems.
Baby Jade didn’t talk to Coral much. Not because she didn’t like the girl, but because she didn’t talk to anyone much.
“Hey, good set?” Coral asked Baby as she walked in and threw the crumpled up dollar bills in her bag.
“Could’ve been better. You know how it is on days.” No one liked working the day shift. The crew was spread thinner every time the club lost a girl, adding more day shifts.
“Yeah, it blows. It’s only Tuesday and I have another afternoon shift tomorrow. Hope Mickey gets someone else in here soon.”
“Me too. Where’s Lolli?” Baby scanned the room looking to see if the girl had been in yet.
Coral stopped sweeping and gave her a knowing look. “She took off with Slade. Mickey sent him down here while you were on stage.”
“Dammit, she’s too young to be on that shit.” Baby rubbed her temples with the palms of her hands. Slade was Mickey’s dealer and number one douchebag. Lolli was a sweet girl, too young to be in this line of work. Her paperwork said she was eighteen, but if Baby Jade had to bet, she was still a minor. Her young appearance worked in her favor, making her a huge hit in the club. Her beautiful skin hadn’t yet fallen prey to plastic surgery. Lolli’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement when the club was hopping. Baby Jade knew that sparkle. She had had it herself once. That’s how she knew it was bound to be snuffed out after a few encounters with Slade.
“Well, if it’s not THE Baby herself. I see you’ve graced us with your presence once again. What a treat it is to get to see Baby come out in the daylight.”
The words slurred with sarcasm.
Baby Jade knew who it was before she turned around. Jewella leaned against the fingerprint smudged bathroom door. The tiny vial in her hand and the way she rubbed her nose explained the tone. Her normal brown eyes were nothing but pupils, and heavy makeup was smeared across her bony cheeks. The short silk robe she wore fell off one pointy shoulder.
It was no secret that Jewella hated Baby Jade. She had made that clear from day one.
“You might wanna check a mirror. I think you need a little touch-up.” Baby Jade collected her street clothes from the bottom drawer. She had finished her last set for the day and wanted to be long gone before Slade showed back up.
“You’re such a smart-ass.” Jewella stumbled backward trying to cross her legs. “Does Mickey know you’re planning on ducking out?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I finished my shift. Unlike some people, I actually stay coherent lon
g enough to do my job. Now I’m leaving. That’s how the world works. You should try it sometime,” Baby Jade snapped as she threw on a pair of shorts and an old AC/DC t-shirt.
“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Jewella snickered, too stoned to notice how loud she was talking.
Baby circled in time to see her walking up the stairwell. “Don’t do it, Jewella. I mean it,” she hollered, only to get a middle finger in response.
“Dammit!” Baby Jade shoved the rest of her stuff in a bag as fast as she could hoping to dodge the inevitable.
“I’m sorry, Baby. I didn’t know Jewella was in the bathroom. I thought she was sleeping it off in Mickey’s office.” Coral stood in the corner with the broom.
Baby Jade forgot she was in the room. Sometimes it was as if she blended right into the walls.
“It’s ok. I know it’s not your fault. I have to get outta here before …”
She stopped midsentence when she heard the familiar sound of boots stomping down the stairs.
“Baby, where the hell do you think you’re going?” Mickey challenged.
“I did my five sets for the day. I was supposed to be off already.” She snatched up her bag and headed toward the stairwell. Mickey moved to block the entrance, filling the doorway with his portly frame.
“I don’t give a shit if you did ten sets. You know you’re supposed to check with me before leaving.”
“And I would have let you know when I came back up, but that skank girlfriend of yours thought she’d rat me out first.”
Mickey’s back went rigid and he bowed up at Baby Jade’s insult. “Don’t talk about Jewella like that.”
Pop
Baby jumped and turned to see where the sound came from. She saw the broom on the floor as the bathroom door slammed shut and the lock clicked into place.
“Look what you did! You scared that little wimp Coral. She still has two sets left.”
Gutter Princess Page 1