Gutter Princess

by Kimmie Easley

  “Whatever. Get outta my way, Mickey. I’m leaving.”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “No. You’re not.”

  “Yes, I am. What are you going to do? Tie me up and keep me locked up here in the basement?”

  Baby Jade’s stomach somersaulted at the sight of Mickey’s lips twisting into a sly grin.

  “Don’t tempt me, precious. You might find you enjoy it.”

  The conversation was getting her nowhere. Baby Jade inhaled and tried to refocus, swallowing back the bitter bile collecting in her throat. “Mickey, what do you want? I’ve done my sets. I’ll be in tomorrow night.”

  “Jewella’s sick. You’ll have to cover for her.”

  Baby Jade tried to hide her giggling. “Sick? You mean she’s high as a fucking kite and can barely stand up, much less dance.”

  “I told you not to talk about her like that. She’s gonna take a nap in my office. Now get your shit together, you’re on after Barbie.”

  “Can’t you have one of the other girls do it?”

  “I said you’re going to go do it, unless you’d rather I pull my pants down now and show you who gets on their knees quicker? Get your ass upstairs. You’re on in ten.”

  He turned and marched back up the stairs. It was his way of letting her know he was in charge. He had said more than once how being defiant and always bucking the system was going to get her into trouble one day. He hated that she wasn’t a “team player,” as he called it.

  Baby Jade slumped into the chair. She had forgotten that Coral was in the bathroom until the door opened.

  “Baby? Do you want me to take the extra set?”

  “No, hon. I’d better do it myself. If not, Mickey and Jewella will find another way to make my life hell. Thanks though.” Baby Jade pulled out a copy of DeLaine Roberts Two Sides of a Heartbeat to read while she waited. Books had become her closest friend. When she was a child, books and music were her only comfort. They helped her block out the rest of the world. Another means of survival.

  “Shit, it’s dead out there.” Barbie stumbled down the steps, pulling Baby Jade out of her book and back to reality. She was notorious for having a few shots before her set. “I hear you’re covering for Jewella. Good luck with that. It’s tough dancing to an empty room.”

  Barbie pretended to be tough but was harmless. Still, Baby Jade didn’t like to indulge in small talk. She didn’t trust her as far as she could throw her, and nothing she said to the girl was safe since she was Jewella’s little protégé. The pathetic way she panted around after Jewella, mimicking her every move, disgusted Baby.

  “I guess she’s sick again.”

  Coral rolled her eyes and laughed. “Funny, I had the same sickness last night. It’s probably Mickey’s way of sticking it to you. Ya know, since you won’t let him actually stick it to you.”

  “I’m not touching that one,” Barbie chimed in.

  “It’s not a big deal. I hoped to get outta here on time today, but I guess there’s always tomorrow.” Baby Jade didn’t say how she felt, never letting her guard down. There was no point in giving people extra ammunition.

  “Yeah, keep tellin’ yourself that sugar.” Barbie taunted her before sitting down at her table and lighting a cigarette.

  Baby Jade eyed the woman. They had spent a lot of time around each other over the last two years. Barbie was nineteen years old and as far as Baby Jade knew, had only worked at Bottoms Up, where Jewella quickly took her under her wing. Her bleached hair was teased and brittle beyond repair. She liked being known as the head platinum, every club had one. Her skin looked like leather that had been left out in the sun for years and was almost as dark as Baby Jade’s smooth, natural bronze skin. She practically lived in the tanning salon down the street. Acne scars covered her skin, which only led to her caking on layers of makeup trying to hide them. It reminded Baby of spackling a wall. To this day, she had never seen her wash off the mess; she only piled more on top. Fake lashes weighed down her once bright blue eyes. Her average height did nothing for her thin frame, a lot thinner than when she started two years ago. The horrible boob job she received as a present from her current sugar daddy made her look skinnier. Size DDs on a twenty-two inch waist was not the picture of a healthy self-esteem.

  Baby may not like her, but it was easy to feel sorry for the girl. Hell, it was easy for her to feel sorry for pretty much everyone stuck in this nightmare.

  “Baaaaaby, you’re up!” Jewella sang from the top of the stairs.

  Everyone but Jewella. She would never feel sorry for that hateful bitch.

  Baby Jade stood behind the heavy drapes for the sixth time that day. Her nerves were shot and her stomach was in knots. This was the point where she had to give in and let the music take over or she would be a hot mess and never make it through the next few minutes. The spotlights made it difficult to check the chairs lined up at the stage, otherwise known as pervert row. From what she could make out, they were all empty. As tough as it was to dance to an empty room, it was worse to dance for one person, Mickey. Other clubs didn’t make the girls dance when there weren’t any customers. It was pointless, but not here. Mickey was always up for a free show. His excuse was that he was paying them to shake their asses, not sit on them.

  Jewella sat slumped up against the bar. Her skeletal hand gripped tightly around a glass of gin.

  Coral stood at the DJ booth talking to Mickey and she was not smiling. Mickey rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Since she was still on shift, Coral was clad in nothing but a short lacy robe. Baby Jade knew she didn’t like Mickey or his hands, but Coral couldn’t bring herself to take a stand. Mickey had put his foot down one too many times and that was never a pretty scene. His hand slipped inside Coral’s robe and Baby watched her slink away, clearly pissing Mickey off. He said something that Baby couldn’t make out, and then Coral looked as if she were pleading, or maybe apologizing. She started crying and this time when Mickey ran his hand up the side of her robe, she didn’t move away. He gave a squeeze before pushing her away, using shame to put her in her place. Baby knew the look, having been there before, too many times to count.

  Baby Jade heard the first few notes of “Psycho Killer” by Talking Heads. Mickey skipped her usual intro, confirming the place was empty. Not that it mattered; she would still give it her best performance.

  With her eyes closed, Baby’s body moved in perfect unison with the music. Moving her hips to the beat, she turned her back to the bar and bent over to caress her slender, tan leg. Men loved to see women touch themselves in a sensual way. She may not make any tips without customers, but at least she got paid to practice.

  A bright light flashed across the wall, but Baby never broke her focus. She dropped to the floor right on point, arching her back, and popping the corset before slipping out of her thong. She danced to the song for the umpteenth time but worked the stage as if it was her first. Her eyes remained closed to keep from seeing Mickey’s leering face. She made her final move, swinging her hair before folding herself into a crouched position on the floor, letting the mass of black waves fall to one side.

  The song ended and Baby looked up before moving out of position. It had become a habit to keep up the seductive façade in case someone was there to tip. When Baby Jade finally allowed her eyes to adjust to the lights, she was shocked to find another pair locked on hers.

  The stranger at the end of the bar stared at Baby Jade, sending a shiver from one end of her naked body to the other, leaving her completely exposed. His intense gaze was hot and appeared intentional.

  He was gorgeous. His thick, dark hair looked like you could run your hands through it and get lost for hours. Dark eyes resembling deep pools of chocolate bore holes through her. The mystery man sported a heavy beard, but not thick enough to hide the dimples embedded in his flawless cheeks. He was tall and lean, wearing a pair of loose-fitting jeans and an old t-shirt. And if that wasn’t enough to make Baby wet between the legs, he was plastered with tat
toos. Her weakness. They started at his wrists and disappeared under the sleeve of his black tee. The chain wallet and black Dr. Martens weren’t unusual, but she had a feeling he wasn’t a local. The notion only heightened his hotness in Baby Jade’s book.

  The few seconds she spent drinking him in felt like an eternity. He didn’t break his trance when Jewella started circling, obviously catching a whiff of the new blood in the room. Baby Jade watched her try to perk up enough to lean across the bar, rubbing her hand over the man’s forearms. The brazen gesture broke the moment and he turned to look at Jewella. Baby picked up her clothing and headed toward the DJ booth to let Mickey know she was leaving but didn’t make it in time before Mickey noticed Jewella drooling over Mr. Tats and bolted to intervene.

  Dammit. This place is like the damn Twilight Zone today.

  The last thing she needed was to walk into the war zone known as “Jewella in heat, coupled with Mickey’s jealousy.”

  Not that she had a choice. He would have a total shit fit if she left without telling him first. And she wasn’t waiting around to get the hell out of this place. Voices rocketed from across the room. She slipped back into her stage costume and stood off to the side, hoping to remain invisible.

  “Look man, I didn’t do anything. The chick asked me for a light. I don’t smoke. I told her I didn’t have one.” Mr. Tats stepped back from the bar.

  “That’s not what I saw.” Mickey’s not exactly known for being rational.

  Of course, Mr. Tats wasn’t backing down. “She said she didn’t believe me and wanted to check for herself. When she touched me, I told her to back up. I’m not here for that shit. I don’t know what kind of place you run, but I’m here to speak to the manager.”

  Jewella hopped off the stool and flung herself at Mickey. “I didn’t touch him, baby. You know better than that. You know I can’t help it that men are always throwing themselves at me.” Mickey pulled her in and rubbed her back, consoling her like a child.

  He surveyed the tattooed man standing before him, sizing him up. “What do you wanna see the manager about?”

  “I got into town a couple of weeks ago and I’ve been helping down at Rodney’s Garage. He doesn’t have much work to offer right now and said the manager here might need some help. Is he in or not?”

  Mickey shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “Yeah, that’s me. I don’t know why he’d send you this way. Rodney’s a good enough guy, but I ain’t up for doing any special favors.”

  “I’m not looking for a handout or a free ride. I’m not looking for any favors. Either you have a job or you don’t. I’m a hard worker and low maintenance. I only need something to tide me over until I scrape up enough to move on in a few weeks.”

  Baby Jade didn’t know why, but the thought of Mr. Tats moving on in a few weeks didn’t settle well with her.

  “What kind of work can you do?”

  Mr. Tats shrugged his shoulders. “I can do what you need me to. I’ll clean, cook, schlep bar, whatever.”

  Mickey didn’t say anything. He also didn’t seem to notice Baby Jade standing off to the side, but Mr. Tats did. He had caught her gaze over Mickey’s shoulder, once again burning holes right through her, reminding her that she was almost naked. Jewella, true to form, had already hopped back up on her stool and ordered another round.

  “We don’t need another bartender. Got too many of those already. I can’t have you down in the dressing room with the girls. I can tell by looking at ya that would be a bad idea. Cleaning’s out.” Mickey’s gaze wandered around the room, settling on Jewella. She was still salivating over Mr. Tats. The pathetic woman was aiming for sexy, but instead came off like a hot mess. “I don’t think it’s gonna work out man.”

  If only she could see herself, Baby Jade thought.

  “Ahem.” Mr. Tats cleared his throat. “Rodney said to let you know if you couldn’t think of anything to keep me on, I was supposed to remind you about the cleanup job he did on the Range Rover a while back.”

  Mickey’s back snapped straight. He took a step closer to Mr. Tats, not saying a word.

  Mr. Tats continued. “Now, I don’t know what the hell that means. I didn’t ask and he didn’t offer the information. I need to make some gas money.”

  Forever passed while waiting for Mickey to respond.

  His forehead creased as his brow furrowed. “You and Rodney must be pretty tight. Doesn’t seem right that he’d throw around reminders like that for someone he’s only known for a couple of weeks.”

  Baby thought the same thing. It did seem odd, but she wasn’t about to say anything or draw attention to herself. If Mickey realized that she overheard that part of the conversation, he’d be sure to hit the roof.

  “Rodney’s a good enough guy. I think we can both agree on that.” That’s all Mr. Tats had to say in return. He clearly wasn’t big on offering information about himself. Baby Jade was hoping he didn’t get a job working at Bottoms Up. She didn’t like the way his mere presence brought out her vulnerability.

  “Fine. We’ll test you out as a bouncer. I can’t be everywhere all the time and the girls need someone to step in when the drunks get hands on. Work for you?”

  Mr. Tats nodded. “I can do that.”

  “Ok, be here tomorrow night at sundown. Night shift better not be a problem. I don’t have any need for a bouncer during the day.”

  “Works for me. That’ll leave me open to pick up hours at Rodney’s during the day. Thanks for the opportunity, sir.” Mr. Tats extended his hand. To Baby Jade’s surprise, Mickey took it.

  “Get yourself a beer son, on the house. Then we’ll see you back here tomorrow.” Some might have thought Mickey was being nice, but Baby Jade knew better. He was flexing his power.

  “Thanks, I might do that,” Mr. Tats responded, his gaze locked on Baby Jade.

  Mickey turned to walk away and ran right into her. “Dammit, Baby. What the hell are you doing standing there?”

  “I’ve been trying to let you know I’m leaving. I covered Jewella’s set and I’m taking off now.” She heard Jewella’s snide giggle as she downed another shot of liquor. A small vial sat open on the bar. She was bombed.

  “Whatever. Be back here tomorrow before your shift to go over the playlist. I’ll be busy showing stud here around.” He threw a thumb toward Mr. Tats.

  “I can show him around,” Jewella shrieked.

  “Not a chance. Get your ass to my office and get some sleep. You’re on tonight.” Mickey stood with his hands on his hips, appearing as if he was waiting for an unruly child. Baby Jade hurried to gather her bag from the empty dressing room, slipped on her shorts and t-shirt and snuck out the back door.

  Baby Jade gave a relieved sigh. The only thing that could make this day any worse was running into Slade. Lolli was scheduled to work tonight and Baby had no doubt he would be dropping her off blasted. The homeless who frequented the alleys littered the concrete steps leading up to Bourbon Street with trash. They sometimes slept in the stairwells and alleys trying to stay off the main streets to keep from being arrested. It was a high traffic drug area with addicts tucked away in every corner.

  Before Baby Jade made it around the corner, she heard the invigorating roar of a bike as it fired up.

  Damn, I love that sound.

  It had been forever since she’d been on the back of a bike. The motorcycle flew by with the rider oblivious that she was in the alley. Baby couldn’t make out his face, but the black t-shirt and boots were a dead giveaway. Wasn’t that appropriate? Mr. Tats drove a Harley.

  Chapter Two

  Lucky

  I can’t believe I’m gonna be working in a fucking strip club.

  Lucky had expected to be out of town by now, but things didn’t work out at Rodney’s as he had planned. He had enough money pulled together to leave, but not enough to get far. When Rodney suggested he get a job at Bottoms Up, Lucky laughed it off. He had sworn that wild side off a long time ago. That world was toxic. When you t
hink you have it under control, you blink, and then you’re buried up to your neck gasping for air. Of course, he was also living proof you could claw your way out, but not without leaving a vast amount of scars.

  From what Lucky could make out, Bottoms Up was a typical strip club. Dark, in need of a repair, unhappy girls, booze, drugs, and an asshole on an ego trip for a boss. But he had definitely seen much worse. The club did have one thing going for it though. Her name was Baby Jade, if he had heard the windbag correctly. She was breathtaking, literally. When he walked into the club, he purposely tried not to look at the stage, but this dancer was different. Her moves were perfect, not sloppy, or raunchy. Somehow, she managed to be sexy and classy at the same time, something unheard of in this industry.

  When she finished her song and looked up, it was like a punch right to the gut. Her eyes were bright green. He couldn’t focus on anything else. If it hadn’t been for the crackhead pawing at him, he might have gotten a chance to talk to Baby Jade.

  Shit! This girl could throw a wrench in my plans.

  It would only cause pain and heartache for everyone if Lucky stayed in town. He had to take care of business and move on, regardless of the green-eyed beauty.

  Chapter Three

  Baby Jade

  Baby Jade didn’t like to drive in the city. On the rare occasion that she wasn’t walking, she took a cab. Her apartment was a tiny box, and the club was suffocating. She liked being able to get outside and stretch her legs. It was cold at times, but being New Orleans, it was never too bad.

  She walked a few blocks before turning onto the side street that dead-ended into a massive five-story brick building, an old building that had once been used as a meeting place for the United Confederate Veterans. The buildings and architecture in New Orleans were captivating to Baby Jade. She loved the history and stories that surrounded the magical city. It’s one of the reasons she liked to walk everywhere. She wanted to take in all the sights. The stones, the different colored glass in the windows and the markings on the walls and on the streets never grew old.