How does she get her skin to glow like that? Worry gnaws at my insides. Shit. Can I even do this?
“Mia! What are you all doing here?” Mia’s brother, Dominic, rushes out from behind the bar, enveloping us all in one of his claustrophobic bear hugs. For a big guy, he is the sweetest. Growing up with Mia and Nic wasn’t always easy. They were wild, carefree, and a part of one big happy and whole family—not exactly a match to my reclusive personality. But over time, I’d gained an amazing best friend and an amazing brother.
As quickly he arrived, he steps back, his eyes widening on my outfit. Crossing his muscular arms, the scowl on his scruffy, yet strong, face would make anyone shrink back in fear. But we snicker, which only makes his scowl grow deeper. “Is someone going to explain to me why my sweet and beautiful Ellie is dressed like a million-dollar hooker?”
I gasp, feigning horror.
“We have a VIP reservation… under Mike Hunt.” Mia smirks at her brother. His eyes narrow.
“Jesus Christ, Mia. I should have fucking known that was you.” Nic rolls his head back, groaning at the ceiling.
Whenever we did group activities, it was a long-standing tradition to make a reservation under a dirty name. Sure, it’s super childish, but we get a kick out of it. But after Fawn Dillmiballs and a severe choking incident, we vowed to only do it on special occasions—like tonight.
“Nic, my latest book sucks. These two have set out a bunch of challenges for me to do, and I’d rather do them here than at that seedy bar down the street… Unless you want me to go there?”
“Not on your life.” He pulls me into his side for a hug and a kiss on my head, then guides us to the VIP section, where bottles of Jameson and Jägermeister sit waiting for us. Sinking down into the soft, leather seats, I pour everyone a shot of whiskey and Jäger, sliding them around the table.
“So, what are we toasting to?” Nic holds his glass of whiskey in the air, drawing our eyes to him.
“Fantastic dick!” Nic groans at Mia. Katie and I laugh.
“To the bestest of friends!” Katie says.
“To hopefully not having to ban you all from my club!” Nic adds, his eyes lingering on Katie’s lips.
Everyone turns to me, waiting for my answer. What do I want to cheers to? My book not sucking? My friends? A hopefully, still existent career as a writer? “To new and happy beginnings.”
As one, we throw back the liquor, slamming our glasses on the table. My throat burns deeply. God, I forgot how horrible this is.
“So, what’s on your list, Ellie?”
Before I can reply, Mia retrieves the laminated piece of paper from her handbag and hands it to her brother. Ever the girl scout.
Taking the list, Nic scans it, frowning as he gets to the end. Looking up at me, I can see the worry in his eyes. He was my rock when everything fell apart. He helped put me back together and has taken the role of scary, protective older brother pretty seriously.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Ellie? I’m guessing this is mostly Mia’s idea—but you don’t actually have to do it, regardless of what this witch tells you.” He nods his head toward Mia, who smirks and flips him the bird.
Do I really want to go through with this list? My stomach churns, nausea rolling through me as I glance down at my dress, knowing the lacey underwear beneath it. Thoughts of Michael consume my mind; the dark, anger filling his eyes, the tick in his jaw as his eyes would roam over me, disapproving. The deadly stillness as he’d approach…
Shivers roll down my spine as the sounds of the pumping bass bring me back to the present, fear clawing at my throat just from the memory. For the past few years, I’ve stayed safely in my comfort zone, never doing anything to rock the boat. Never really going back to the things I once enjoyed. Michael nearly took everything from me and I’ve been too scared to start living again.
But I can’t keep playing it safe. I don’t want to be a victim anymore.
I need to do this.
I have to do this.
Taking the list from his hands, the trembling in mine slows down as I stare at the words on the list, cementing myself in the present with every deep breath. The smells and the sounds of the club wash over the ones in my memory until there’s nothing but the lively and warm energy of the club. My shaky resolution solidifies. “I have to do this, Nic. Not because Mia suddenly decided I needed to live a little,” I offer her a small smile, “but the romance in my new book is more boring than watching paint dry, so maybe this will help? I don’t know.”
Mia shrugs unapologetically, smirking at me.
My smile dims. “I want to start living again, and if it means I have to do crazy things—like touch a guy’s abs or give someone a lap dance—then I’ll do it. I’ll do anything… Except for bungee-jumping. That’s a hard pass,” I add with an exaggerated shiver.
“Okay, Ellie. If this is what you want to do, then do it. I’m guessing you want some stage time?” He quirks his eyebrows, gesturing toward my outfit.
My eyes shift toward the stage, taking in the performance of the beautiful woman, my heart aching. God, what was I thinking? I can’t do that…
“I was thinking about it, but then I saw how incredible those girls are. There’s no way in hell I’m that talented—not anymore.” I laugh mockingly at myself. It took months of physical therapy to even be able to move my arm, let alone use it.
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, trying to ease the constricting and oppressive weight in my chest. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
“Ellie? Are you okay?” Mia’s worried voice cuts through the dark cloud in my mind and heart. Opening my eyes, I peer up from my hunched position. Worry lines each of their faces.
I sit up, my spine cracking with each movement. How long have I been like this?
Glancing between themselves, they turn back to me, their eyes widening with concern.
“I just… What if I can’t do it?” I whisper, staring at the scars poking out from beneath my sleeve. “What if my arm’s still broken? What if I’m too… broken?” Tears blur my vision.
Arms wrap around my body in a tight embrace. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. You aren’t broken, Ellie. Not anymore. Please don’t let that asshole keep you from living. Please don’t let him take you away from us again.” The strength in Mia’s words pours through me as she squeezes me tighter.
“I won’t, Mia.” Wrapping my arms around her small waist, I hug her tightly, my tears falling onto her shoulder.
I pull her closer as my breath starts to lose its panicked edge. We slowly disentangle ourselves, wiping the tears from our cheeks. Thank God for waterproof makeup. Turning, Katie and Nic wear similar expressions, sadness shadowing their eyes.
Smiling weakly at them both, I wipe the tears from my face. Embarrassment and overwhelming gratitude and love flow through me, washing away the darkness and self-doubt that had clawed its way into my body.
“Is this the part where we’re all meant to hug it out? Or fist bump? Or maybe do some more shots? All of this emotional stuff isn’t good for my ball-buster image.” Mia laughs, winking at me as she pours another round of shots. Her hands tremble slightly as she passes over a glass. The melancholy atmosphere surrounding us slowly falls away.
Downing the amber liquid, I wait for the burning sensation to die down before turning to Nic. “So do you have any free spots tonight? I don’t want to take time and money away from any of your performers.”
Scratching his scruffy beard, Nic nods his head. “Funnily enough, we do. Mistie, one of our intermittent filler girls, called in sick, so we do have an opening in—” he checks his watch. “—five minutes, actually. It’s a ten-minute set, so roughly three songs. Does that sound okay?”
Shit. Three songs?
“She’ll do it! We did a three-song routine back when we were in school. Here’s the list.” Mia taps away on her phone with aggressive excitement. Nic pulls out his phone as it dings, his eyebrows rising high
.
“Are you sure, Ellie? These songs are… kind of dirty.”
In another lifetime, Nic would be the type of guy I’d hope to fall for; caring, sweet, funny… It’s a shame he’s like a brother to me. He’s also in love with Katie.
My eyes flick between Katie and Nic as she blushes at his words, her eyes brightening when his eyes meet hers, the spark between them crackling at their shared and unexploited longing. The day those two get over themselves and finally bump uglies, the world might implode.
Mia flicks her knowing eyes back and forth between the two, smirking over the rim of her cup. For as long as we’ve been friends with Katie, she’s been waiting for ‘the one’. No one has ever lived up to her expectations or come close to being her dream guy. Sometimes book boyfriends are better than the real thing.
“I don’t exactly have time to think of anything else, and the sooner I’m off that stage, the better,” I say, moving my way around the table. I bounce on the balls of my feet, my nerves making me jittery.
“Break a leg!” Katie’s eyes shine brightly as she smiles, giving me the thumbs up.
“You’ve got this girl.”
Nodding, I head over to the stairs, my body feeling heavy. Nic rubs circles on my back as he ushers me along, stopping by the DJ booth to give him my song requests. With a raised eyebrow, he loads up the tracks, nodding to Nic who leads me past a burly guard and through to the dressing room doors.
“This room here is the private dressing room where you’ll finish getting ready. Just tell Cynthia that you are Mistie’s replacement; she’ll see that you’re organized.” Nic gestures to the door in front of us then pulls me back into a tight hug: “Good luck. You’ll kill it.”
When he pulls away, his grin widens. “And if tonight goes well, maybe you can perform again. It still creeps me out when I see Mia dance,” he shudders, “but you three have phenomenal energy when you’re on stage. It would be great to see that again. To see that old bubbliness… thirst for life. I know the others miss it too.” He smiles softly, his eyes going misty.
Reaching for the door handle, my sleeve pulls up and the white of my scars shine under the hallway light, my excitement vanishing. Disgust wells inside of me. “I don’t think I can do this. I’m not the same woman I was before.”
Nic wraps his arms around me before pulling me to his chest. “You may not be the same woman you were before, but you’re amazing, Ellie. Your strength, bravery… the way you were able to continue to love us even though every ounce of you was screaming at you not to. It’s beautiful. And it’s all of those things that add to your beauty. Your past and your scars don’t define you.”
Kissing my forehead, he steps back, his lips growing into a small smile as he stares into my eyes. “We all have scars, Ellie. Some on the inside and some on the outside. People will always judge you for them. It’s up to you to figure out if you’re going to cower or stand tall.”
Is it really that simple, though? Biting my lip, I stare into his eyes, the soft smile on his face growing. As if it were contagious, I grin back, releasing a deep gust of air, the tension in my shoulders draining away.
It’s only three songs… I can do that.
Nodding my head at Nic, I squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Nic.”
“Anytime, Ellie. Now go rock it out.”
Laughing, I shake my head, staring at the door. “I’m just hoping I don’t fall flat on my face. If I survive, I want free drinks—for life.”
With a final wink in his direction, I open the door to the dressing room, closing it firmly behind me. The heady scents of frankincense and citrus from the diffusers around the room awaken my senses, my muscles loosening with each inhale. Around the room, women chatter playfully while preparing for their sets.
Three makeup vanities with matching, plush chairs line the walls on either side of me. Lit mirrors above each of them brighten the room with white light. A large rack of costumes, fedoras, feather boas, and anything else a girl could desire for her performance stands by the backstage door.
Unlike most strip clubs, Shake ‘n’ Stir is luxuriously elegant and sophisticated and has a reputation for its often award-winning dancers. I walk further inside, my eyes widening in wonder and chic jealousy.
If I can’t make it as a writer, I’m one hundred percent coming to work here.
A woman with leather heeled boots, a tight, black dress, and dirty-blonde hair pulled into a tight bun strides towards me, her whole persona giving off dominatrix vibes to a T.
“Who are you?” she frowns down at me. “Guests aren’t allowed back here. Who let you in?”
It takes all I have in me not to shrink back under her stare. “I’m Ellie. Nic sent me. I’m filling in for…” I struggle for the name, “Mistie. I’m filling in for Mistie.”
Cynthia’s eyes flick down me and she purses her lips. “Alright then. I’m Cynthia, the stage manager. We only have a few moments before you’re on. I really hope you know what you’re doing.” Grumbling, she motions for me to follow her.
I tail the bustling Cynthia over to a vacant vanity as she pulls the chair out for me to sit.
“Well, at least we won’t have to do anything other than touch up your hair and makeup. Do you need any props or costume pieces?” She gestures toward the rack before turning back to me, quickly dusting powder over my face and smoothing out the curls in my hair.
“No, I have everything I need under the dress, but…” Looking over at the reflection of the costume rack, I spot two items that spark an ember of inspiration and mischief in me. “Is anyone using the fedora and trench coat, tonight?”
Cynthia shakes her head and crosses the room to unhook the items from their respective hangers. “Each prop can only be used once,” she says as she hands them to me. “So when you’re done, keep them. They aren’t the highest quality, but they do their job. Now, get ready. You’re on in three minutes.” Giving me a final once over, she nods her head before striding through the stage door, leaving me to finish dressing. Or undressing, I guess?
Untying the belt on my dress, I shrug out of it, hanging it neatly on a free clothes hanger. Wolf whistles ring through the room and my head snaps around to meet the encouraging smiles of the dancers behind me, their expressions varying from shock to womanly appreciation.
“Good luck, chicka. You’re going to slay out there.” The gorgeously tanned woman from earlier eyes me up and down, whistling her appreciation at my outfit.
A blush tinges my cheeks, my inner fangirl ruining my sex appeal as I take her in up close. Gorgeous, curly brown hair, flawless, bronzed skin, and lush, full features… She’s like a Chocolate Goddess. “Oh my God, I saw you perform when I arrived—you’re amazing!” I reach for the trench coat but drop it back onto my chair before I finally will up a grip firm enough to keep hold of it. As I continue to stare, something itches in the back of my mind, like I’ve seen her before. Somewhere…
“You haven’t danced in a while, have you?” she laughs as I search for the armholes and pull the coat on, adjusting my straps under it.
I give her a small depreciating smile, then slump back into the chair. “It’s been a long time. I mean, I do dance fitness in my house and go to self-defense classes but this—” I signal to myself, to the room, “—I haven’t done in a long time. I’m kind of scared shitless.”
Looping her arm through mine, she helps me from the chair, leads me through the open backstage door and into the wing of the stage where the crew bustles around us. We stop, and Chocolate Goddess stares at me for a moment before saying, “You should stretch.”
“Oh! Yeah, good idea…” I say. I hold my left arm across my body, and then my right, then link both arms behind my back. As I bend down to touch my toes, Chocolate speaks again:
“I know you may not remember me, but I signed up at the same pole dancing class you were in… probably a month before you left. I didn’t realize who you were until I saw you… Cynthia mentioning your name kind of helped in puttin
g it all together.”
I stand up straight, a smile quirking my lips. “I thought you looked familiar! Did you—”
A stagehand rushes toward us, signaling for me to move from the wing and onto the stage. “You’re on.”
I look back at Chocolate apologetically, but she shakes it off. “Show them all what it’s really like to fly high; be beautiful, be fierce, be brave… You’re going to do amazing, Ellie. Good luck.” Winking, my new (old) friend squeezes my hand before nudging me onto the stage, hidden by heavy crimson curtains.
Nodding, I bite my lip as my heart begins to pound in my chest. My feet itch to turn and run. But I take a deep breath and close my eyes, focusing on centering the whirlwind of emotions swirling violently inside of me.
I am beautiful, I am fierce, I am brave. I am beautiful, I am fierce, I am brave. I keep repeating those words over and over, their meaning sinking inside me, clicking me back together again.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Nic’s voice booms throughout the club. “Tonight, we have an amazing treat for you. An old and dear friend is gracing us with her presence tonight, so show her some love and prepare to be wowed!”
Catcalls and whistles rise in harmony with cheers. Oh my God. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I bounce on the balls of my feet, my nerves crackling like live wires inside me.
The stage darkens and all I can hear is the beating of my own heart as it drowns out the noise of the club. My eyes search around me for a source of light. Phantom hands caress my neck before wrapping their strong fingers around my throat, choking me. I can’t breathe.
My body grows stiff with fear, the darkness drawing out my buried memory. Closing my eyes, I draw in a sharp breath as the first beats of the burlesque song begin to pulse through the room, the vibrations coexisting with my trembling body. My chest burns as I release the breath of air I’d been holding and relief washes through me at the familiar citrus smell of the club.
(un) Broken Page 4