by Shyla Colt
The pounding base, dim lights, and boisterous voices were familiar and, as fucked up as
others would find it, comforting. Here, the women were in control. They used their bodies to tease, tantalize, and get paid. The men could look, but they knew better than to try to force any of her people. She sold a fantasy, not adult entertainment raw and in 4D. Her girls knew better than to turn tricks on the side. What they did in their spare time was their business as long as it didn’t involve the club.
She weaved her way through bodies glancing over the tables. Her girls did their jobs well.
Drinks were full along with laps and people appeared content. She ignored the rowdy group in the VIP section. The last thing she needed to do was run into Lefty again right now. The man crawled under her defenses like a Marine navigating a barbwire course.
They Dueling Devils were here giving Demon a bachelor party before he got hitched. She
shook her head. It still floored her that he’d met, bedded, knocked up, and was now marrying someone like Ardy. She was young and still soft, despite the harshness she’d experienced. It was a good match. It almost made her hope for something herself. She thought back to the pure panic that slammed into her when Lefty asked for more. Or not. Brushing aside the self-pity threatening to creep up inside, she continued her rounds, losing herself in the work that fueled her.
“G, I’m about to head out.”
Gia glanced up from the bar where she was doing a count of what needed replenishing for
tomorrow and smiled. “I’m surprised to see you still sober, Demon.”
“When you got kids, a hangover is fucking evil the next morning. Especially with Ardy
having morning sickness first thing.” He shrugged.
The domestic conversation made her giggle.
“Shut that shit up, G. You know Ardy won you over too.”
“She did. You got a damn jewel with her. I don’t know what she sees in you.”
A smile turned the harsh planes of his face into a thing of beauty. “Me either. Why do you think I’m rushing her ass to the altar?”
Gia laughed. “What can I do for you?”
Demon paused. “You got a minute to talk?”
The serious expression on his face sobered her instantly. “Yeah.” She set down her
clipboard and walked around the bar, leading him back to her office.
They stepped inside and he leaned against the door while she sat on the edge of her desk.
“What’s going on?”
“That’s what I want to ask you. Normally, I don’t get involved in this shit, but when it
involves my VP, I got to ask.”
“What did he tell you?” Gia asked, furious.
“Nothing, I got fucking eyes, G. It’s obvious you two are feeling each other. Why freak out when I made shit official with Ardy and shut my man down? It doesn’t make sense.” He shook his head. “I don’t like it when pieces don’t add up.”
“I’m not one of your men, Demon. You don’t get to know my every move.”
“You’d better shut that noise down, Gia. Do you come to me for protection?” He arched an
eyebrow at her.
She bit her tongue. His point was valid. “Yes.”
“Then the shit going on is my business. This ain’t like you. So, I’m asking myself, what’s got you so jittery? If it’s some female shit, say that and I’ll leave you alone. If it’s an outside source…we got a conversation that needs to take place.”
She bit the inside of her lip. “Right now, it’s in my head.”
“But it might not be for long?”
“Not sure yet.”
“Not good enough, G.”
“Look, we all have a past. I crossed the ocean to escape mine, worked my ass off to get the money to open this place and make it successful. Now, I’m hearing rumors that the bogey man has come to the United States. Now, I don’t know if it’s all bullshit. Hearsay has a fifty-fifty chance of being true.”
“What are we talking about here? Another M.C.? Cartel?”
“Flesh peddler,” she whispered.
Demon’s eyes turned as round as the tumblers he drank out of. “And their business with
you?”
“It’s my fault they lost some of their best girls. Memories are long on a small island.”
“I think you’re only telling me a sliver of the story, but that’s your shit. Who is this man?”
“Woman…Mylandra.” It was a name Gia never wanted to speak aloud again. She pressed a
hand to her bubbling stomach and gripped the edge of her desk with the other. “She used to be under the thumb of a pimp named Diron and she literally fucked her way to the top. After being his main bitch for a few years, she pulled a Caesar, had him cut down, and took over the
business. She expanded their territory, locked down the area, and started recruiting younger and younger.” Images of the girls flashed in her mind like a photo book being flipped. Their faces were etched into her brain and on the back of her eyelids, never to be forgotten
“What the fuck?”
“It’s different there.” She shook her head. “Poverty gets so bad and people see it as a step up, a way out of starving to death. At least this way you’re clothed, fed, and kept to a higher standard of living than most of those around you.”
“Babe, please tell me you don’t believe that bullshit.”
“I’m just trying to share with you the way people see it there. It’s nothing like America.”
She shook her head. “You guys don’t know poverty the way it is in other places.”
“So, why would she get off her throne and come here to sniff you out?” Demon frowned.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe you better figure it out.”
“I don’t talk to anyone from back home. I cut all ties, changed my identity, and laid low.”
“Then how did you know about her coming over?”
“I keep my ears and eyes open. I just do it on the down low.”
“You’re housing a lot of secrets. Careful they don’t all spill out and get you fucked up.”
“I have always done what I needed to. That won’t stop.”
“I’m not doubting your ability to survive. I just wonder what’s going to be left of the woman I knew if you keep going like this. You’ve lost weight and you’re off kilter.”
“Fuck you, Demon.”
“What? You expected me to sugarcoat shit? Candy ain’t my specialty.” He shook his head.
“Get your shit right, G.”
“My shit is just fine.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Maybe you’ll start to believe it. I’m out. If something changes, you need to alert me immediately.”
“I know the drill.”
He nodded and left, slamming the door behind him.
She ground her teeth and flung out her arm, sending picture frames and trinkets on her desk sailing. They hit the floor with a satisfying series of thuds. Had this been a game of cat and mouse? Had Mylandra always known where she was? It’d be just like her to come in and try to strong arm her way into Taffy and takeover. The sick shit she’d have happening between these walls made up the nightmares that woke her in the dead of the night. She wasn’t sleeping
because she was too busy remembering. Her hands trembled. The devil was breathing down her neck. Like sands in an hourglass, her time was running down. When the last grain fell, she needed to be prepared for the battle that lay ahead. If she was coming all this way, she wasn’t coming alone.
The lid was coming off the jar she’d crammed her past in.
CHAPTER TWO
“I’m putting you on call for a situation that might pop up,” Demon said.
Lefty gazed up from the beer he was nursing and tapped the brunette’s hips. “Time to go,
Brownie.” The biker bunny slid off his lap without complaint and he turned his body to face Demon on the stool. “What’s going on
, brother? Blowback from the Vipers?” His shoulders
tensed.
“No, nothing that serious.” Demon shook his head. “This is about your girl, Gia.”
Lefty snorted. “She made it clear she’s not mine.”
“And you’re taking that shit as an answer?”
Lefty laughed. “Fuck no, just regrouping. If I didn’t know she wanted it as bad as I do, I’d bounce. But she looked at me with those bewitching eyes, practically begging me to ignore the words coming out of her mouth.”
“She’s been hurt bad, I think,” Demon said, shaking his head.
“Haven’t we all? No one in this life comes out without scars.”
“Yeah, well. Word is she’s got a flesh peddler from Jamaica out for her blood.”
Lefty choked on his beer. “Say what?”
“Yeah, Mylandra. I plan on asking around, but I don’t run in those circles.”
“What did Gia say?”
“Said the girl’s pissed off because she cost her some of her best workers.”
“What does that even mean?” Lefty asked.
“Fuck if I know. That personal shit isn’t my department.” Demon shook his head. “We need
her club. It lets the boys blow off steam on a regular, gives us a place to meet up under the cops’
noses, and it washes our money. You know we’re going to keep her safe.”
Images of a young Gia turning tricks had Lefty ready to rip someone’s throat up. “Was
she…?”
“I don’t know, brother. She was pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing.”
“Bullshit.”
Demon shrugged. “This might pass over, but if it blows up, I want you to know about it.”
“Yeah, I hear you. We can put some ears to the ground. “
“I expected no less.” Demon clapped him on the shoulder. “Now, I’m going home to my old
lady. Biker bunny pussy got old a long time ago and their desperate attempts to bed me are getting on my nerves.”
Lefty burst into laughter and shook his head. “Shit, P, you got it bad.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Demon snorted, stood from the stool, and headed for the door.
Lefty spun the new information around in his head. What the hell did Gia have to do with flesh peddling? Suddenly, her profession made a lot more sense. A woman owning a strip club was a rarity. He frowned.
Brownie walked up and ran a hand down his arm.
“Not now.” He shook his head.
She huffed and cut her eyes, sashaying away in a tight hot pink dress that barely covered her ass.
The sight did nothing for him and he cursed the saucy bitch that had his brain stuck in a
loop. Irritated, he stood, leaving his half-finished drink on the counter.
Scanning the crowd, he spotted Clue hugged up with a few blonde bitches at one of their
tables. “Clue, I need you, brother.”
He glanced up and nodded, sending his long blond hair over half of his face. Just like his name, the brother was cloaked in mystery. His pale grey eyes only leant to his name. As their computer guru, he had a pulse on information. He looked at the chicks beside him. “Go to my room and wait for me.”
The waif-like blondes tripped over themselves climbing off his lap to scurry through the
club.
Lefty snickered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bambi or Goldie move that fast in my entire life.”
“What can I say?” Clue shrugged. “Bitches love me.”
“It’s that baby face. How old are you now? Twenty?”
“Fuck you. I’m damn near thirty now.”
Lefty shook his head. Patched in when he was twenty, the second generation, Clue had
always been everyone’s little brother growing up.
Clue stood up. “What’s going on?”
Lefty paused, still unable to believe the scrawny pre-teen had sprouted up to six foot, four inches. “I need you to dig up some information.”
“Well then, let’s step into my office.” Clue grinned.
Lefty shook his head. The kid got off on electronics.
They’d given Clue free rein in one of the rooms to do his work. Crammed full with gadgets, computers, and parts, it’d been dubbed Clue’s Office.
Lefty sank down in the chair beside the desk and watched as Clue powered up the massive
black unit.
“Who am I looking for?”
“I want everything you can find on Gia Hughes.”
“Gia—Gia?” Clue looked up and frowned.
Lefty nodded. “I don’t think she is who she claims to be.”
“Dude, that’s fucking harsh.”
“Yeah, I think she’s running from something and it’s about to catch up with her.”
With the machine up, Clue’s fingers began to fly over the keys. “You can run, but you can’t hide from me,” he whispered. “So far, it’s looking pretty normal. All sorts of jobs. Wait…isn’t she from another country?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because according to this, she’s lived here her entire life.”
“No, that’s not right.”
“Then, she isn’t who she says she is.”
His worst fears were confirmed. She’d lied to them all this time. “Tell me.”
“Gia Hughes, born and raised in Carlsbad, New Mexico, the only daughter of Anna and
Ralph Hughes.”
“Well fuck,” Lefty whispered.
“You want me to keep digging?”
“No.” Lefty shook his head. “See if you can find out anything about someone named
Mylandra.”
“You got a last name for me?”
“No. She’d be a recent arrival to the United States, somewhere in New Mexico.”
“A challenge? Very well then, sir. Give me twenty-four hours.”
“Hit me up on the cell when you get something.”
“Will do,” Clue answered without looking up while already engaged once more in his work.
Lefty made the ride to Gia’s house, flipping between anger and concern. Was she playing
them, or trying to keep herself safe? After the shit with the Sidewinders, he wasn’t in the mood to give anyone the benefit of the doubt.
The light came on above her door and he stood back, shoving his hands in his pockets.
She opened the door and sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Your time is up, Gia. We know you lied about everything.”
Her mouth dropped open and her body tensed. She turned on her heels and ran off full-
speed.
He gave chase, scooping her up. “What the fuck?”
“No, let me go. Let me go.” She wiggled her body, flailing her arms about like a windmill.
He trapped her arms against her sides as she continued to struggle. “You really think we’re just going to let you go after you sold us riverfront property?”
“What? This has nothing to do with you. Put me down. Everything between us is legit. You
can have Taffy’s.”
The statement stunned him into stillness.
Gia slipped from his slackened grip. Her small feet pounded a rhythm on the hardwood
floors as she disappeared down the hall.
He followed her a moment later. Entering the room, he found her tossing clothes into a
suitcase she’d placed on the bed. “Gia, what the hell is going on here?”
“It’s not safe anymore. If you can find the truth out this easily, so can she. Hell, she
probably already has.”
“Who?”
“Mylandra.” Her hushed whisper held a tone of pure fear. Her eyes were wide and dilated.
She rubbed her lips with trembling fingers.
“Who’s Mylandra, Gia?”
“She’s hell come to reclaim an escaped inmate.”
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere but
here.”
He stepped closer to her slowly. “And what are you going to do there?”
“Become someone else. I did it before and I’ll do it again, as many times as I have to.”
“No, baby.” He took the shirt from her hands and tossed it behind him. “You don’t run from the kind of trouble that can follow you across an ocean. You’ll always be looking over your shoulder and no matter how far and how fast you flee, it’ll never be enough.”
Her eyes flashed at him. “What the fuck do you know, Lefty? You know bullshit about what
I’ve been through. I won’t do it again. Nothing you or Demon says is going to keep me here, waiting around like a fucking sitting duck. Do you know what they do to girls who run and get caught?”
Her words were a sucker punch he’d never seen coming.
“Do you, Lefty?” She turned his name into a mockery.
His voice box stopped working. What do I say to that? Did she expect an answer? He shook his head no.
“That’s right, you fucking don’t. I’ve lived through shit, seen shit that would curdle your stomach, biker.” She fixed her gaze on him and stepped forward. “You ever been taken against your will? Over and over until all you could do was retreat so far into the back of your mind you didn’t give a shit what happened to you, or even know if you were dead or alive? You ever wake up with so many bodily fluids on your skin you throw up and it’s all you can do to drag your bruised and battered body out of the bed to the shower?”
The images painted in his head made him want to wretch. How could someone do this to
another person—to my Gia? How could she hold all this inside? He opened his mouth and closed it, shaking his head. He was shit even at the easiest of female crises, and this was some shrink level crazy.
“And there it is. That deer in the head lights, pity-filled stare I never wanted to see.” She pulled at her hair. “I can’t stay here. I can’t be her, not again.” She stepped away from him and paced the room.
Her maniac behavior somehow snapped him into action. “You won’t have to.”
“No, you don’t understand. Taffy and I were her favorites. She liked us. God, the things she made us do. She did.” Gia covered her mouth and ran for the bathroom on the other side of the room.
Lefty sank down on the edge of the bed, shaken. She just dropped the equivalent of a house on top of him. Rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans, he patched together a plan. He would take her back to his place, talk her down, and call Pres. This shit was too heavy for him to make calls on solo. He understood the feeling of being helpless and feeling used. Sweat beaded on his forehead. His chest constricted and his mind raced. No person, man or woman, was