by Melissa Jane
“Ease up, Diamond,” he said with a calmness about him that would normally put me at ease. Carter was the complete opposite to Anton. A large Polynesian man, he wasn’t the type players would want to mess with. In the VIP lounge, men were naturally on their best behavior because one look at Carter and self-preservation kicked in. What they didn’t see was that Carter was kind and had a heart of gold. Unlike Anton, he didn’t eye the girls when they stripped or make lewd comments about their bodies. His eyes were always firmly on the players ensuring no one ever stepped out of line. He was our protector and we loved him for it. And now was no different.
Carter’s brows creased as he used his body to shield me from others in the room. “What’s got you bolting through the door like a wild bull?”
Too scared to say a word, I shook my head. “Just lost my balance tripping over the step.” I hated to dismiss what I’d just seen. I hated to treat it like it didn’t affect me. Because it did. It crippled my soul that I couldn’t do anything to help not only Serena but every other girl he’d done it to.
“Must have been one asshole of a step,” he said giving a small reassuring smile.
“Asshole doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Pulling a travel-size packet of Kleenex from his jacket pocket, he handed me a tissue. “Here, you’re messing up that pretty face of yours.”
Gratefully accepting the tissue, I dabbed under my eyes hoping I hadn’t destroyed Momma G’s hard work. “You carry tissues?”
He shrugged his meaty shoulders. “There’s always someone crying in here. Sometimes even the men. Best to be prepared.” Despite everything, he brought a smile to my face, even if it were melancholic.
“How’s Sofie?” I asked of his wife.
Carter rolled his eyes. “Six months pregnant and giving me hell.”
I gently punched his solid arm. “You love it.”
He smiled in adoration. “I love every bit of it. Diamond… are you okay?”
I bit my lip to stop it trembling. Sometimes I just couldn’t muster the stage smile with the look of anguish playing over and over in my mind.
“Take a deep breath,” he encouraged and I followed his instruction. Unfortunately, it did little to ease the pain. “Good girl. Now give me that,” Carter said, snatching the tissue. “Go give these men’s wives a reason to be jealous.”
Standing on my toes, I kissed his cheek before he stepped aside so I could see who was waiting for me.
“Where have you been?” Blaze approached, all red hair and curves. She looked stunning. “They’ve been asking for you.”
“Who’s they?”
She gestured with her eyes. “The pair in the corner.”
Looking over her shoulder, I gave a quick study of the men. Polished leather dress shoes, expensive watches and tailored clothes. By all appearance, they could be big spenders.
Forcing Dominic’s memory from my mind, I sauntered over to the lounge, two pairs of eyes greedily traveling the length of body.
“Hi, boys,” I cooed, ignoring the tightening knots in my gut. The two men moved to either side allowing me space to squeeze between. My bare thighs rubbed against theirs and they angled their bodies to face me. Sheer curtains separated the booths and a beautiful chandelier emanating a soft glow, hung in each. It was a place where men could easily blow a lot of money, and if at first they were reluctant to spend, the girls would always find a way to squeeze a bit more out of them.
“You’re Diamond, right?” The man with a good head of sandy hair and strong jawline asked. He had eyes that told me he meant business and loved control. I knew them well. His friend, on the other hand, seemed more reserved.
“That’s me. And you are?”
If I’d blinked, I would’ve missed the two exchanging a loaded glance.
“You can call me Jason,” sandy-haired said. “And this here…” he gestured to his friend, “… is—”
“Simon,” the other offered. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.
What was going on?
Looking between the two, my hackles were raised. Were they playing some sort of game? It wouldn’t be unusual. A lot of men didn’t feel comfortable revealing their true names because they believed they had something to protect, mainly their wives. Each to their own, but there was something about these two that wasn’t sitting right. But I would play along with their charade because that was my role.
“Well, Simon and Jason, how about I order us some drinks and we can… get to know each other a little better?”
They both smiled and nodded enthusiastically.
“Sounds great to us,” Jason said, hooking an ankle over a knee. “We’re ready for a big night.”
I’m sure you are.
“Perfect, all I need is your credit card and we can make sure you boys get everything you want and more.”
Again, the two exchanged a glance that validated my discomfort.
“Well, actually, we prefer to use cash,” Jason said, taking the lead.
Simon chuckled. “We, ah… we don’t want our ladies seeing our statements.”
Lies. No wedding rings.
I nodded, playing along. “That’s fine. Drinks are pay-as-you-go, and the first hour is to be paid up front.”
Jason rifled through his wallet and withdrew a wad of cash. I gestured for Blaze to join us, and as she dazzled with her smile she caught my pointed stare. Receiving the message loud and clear, I could see her eyes moving over every inch of the men looking for clues.
“I’m thinking a round of house cocktails,” I said to Blaze.
Simon raised his hand stopping her. “No, we’ll pass on the cocktails. We’ll get a bottle of scotch and a couple of glasses.”
Blaze swallowed hard and I silently prayed she’d relax. It’s not like she hadn’t been in this situation before, yet her growing tension was becoming noticeable, so I worked to distract the men. “So, the wives are at home and you boys are here to play. What type of night are you looking for?”
With the formalities over, the men visibly relaxed. “Well…” Jason began. “We saw you up on stage earlier, and that was enough for us to want to spend the night with you.”
I bit my lip to stop a smile, Jason’s eyes rounding when he realized. “No! Not like, spend the night with you, just a few hours.”
“I understand.” I laughed to put the men at ease because I was unsure how these ‘few hours’ were going to play out. “So,” I said, standing between them, feeling their eyes roam my body. “How can I treat you boys?” Wiggling between Jason’s legs, I ran a polished nail down his chest. “You want a mini-lap first?”
Jason’s fingers circled my wrist with a grip tight enough to still me. His eyes darted quickly around the room before meeting my curious stare. “How about we have a few drinks first and enjoy some conversation.” Glancing at Simon, I noted how he rubbed his jaw before licking his lips. He was nervous. They weren’t very good at playing it cool. Jason guided me around his leg and pulled me back onto the lounge.
They were ticking all the boxes and had no idea how conspicuous their behavior was.
Blaze returned with a silver tray complete with a bottle of Scotch and four glasses. As she set it out on the small glass table in front, she observed the tension and decided she wanted no part in it. “Be right back,” she said shyly while folding the tray under her arm. I didn’t blame her. She was hopeless with pressure and tended to cave under it.
“So…” I began. “You boys like paying premium price for conversation with a pretty lady?”
“Yeah.” Simon nodded with a sly smile. “We don’t like to objectify women.”
I laughed despite the feeling of unease. “You do know you’re at strip club, right?”
Jason chuckled. “Yeah, we see the irony in it. So…” his tone changed, “…what brings a gorgeous girl like you to a place like this?”
Tick.
“It pays for college,” I lied. He noticed.
“What are
you studying?” Simon asked.
“Business.”
He waited for me to continue and when I didn’t, he simply nodded, his stare seeing straight through me.
To my relief, Simon poured the Scotch and handed us one each.
“Salud,” he said, and we raised our glass before drinking. The alcohol, not my favorite, burned my throat on its way down. Over its rim, I noted Anton relieving Carter from his duty. The situation had worsened a hundred-fold.
“That song,” Jason said, interrupting my thoughts.
“Which one?”
“The one we saw you dancing to… I’m on fire.”
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
My chest hurt, and I wondered if the thudding were visible in the dimmed room. “What about it?”
“It’s an unusual song choice, don’t you think?”
Attempting to change the direction of conversation, I resorted to flirting. “It brought you back here, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” he smiled, almost embarrassed. “You looked stunning out there. But while most girls move to earn erections, you gave more of a performance, one I’d go so far to say made you look lost and vulnerable.”
I was right, he could see straight through me, right into the depth of whatever soul I had left.
Jason looked genuinely perplexed. “Why would you choose a song like that?”
“I didn’t choose that song. I never do.”
Now he was confused. “So why perform to it? What’s the meaning behind it?”
It’s simple. The man who makes me dance to that song is a sadistic fucker who gets off on twisting the knife further and further into a wound that never healed.
“Look, Jason, I’m really sorry. I’m not comfortable answering these questions.”
“Why?”
His persistence was wearing thin. “Perhaps it would be better if I found you another girl—” I stood to leave but again his fingers circled my wrist, preventing me from moving without causing a scene.
“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes wide in apology. “Your performance really moved me, that’s all. I don’t want another girl. We want you to stay.”
Enough was enough. I was tired of this game. “I know who you are,” I warned, lowering myself so only Jason and Simon could hear. “I know who you are, so you can stop pretending.”
He feigned ignorance. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s pretty obvious. We’re trained to pick you guys out from a crowd.”
The same suspicious look that had given them away in the first place, passed between the two men. “Okay,” Jason finally relented. “Please sit.” He gestured back to where I’d been moments before. Folding my arms in defiance, I continued standing. “Please,” he said with more urgency.
“Look…” I began with a fresh approach. “You guys can get me into a lot of trouble if—”
“That won’t happen, we swear,” Simon interjected.
“We are Vice but we’re here to help,” Jason reassured.
“Help how?”
Jason leaned forward, his lips grazing my ear. “We’ve been scoping out the clubs down this strip looking for girls who may be victims of trafficking, or who are forced to be here against their will. We’re well aware this strip is owned by Dominic Salvatore and he’s been on our hit list for months now. Now we may be acting on a hunch, but it’s obvious you’re not like the other girls here. Am I wrong?”
My silence gave him the answer he was looking for.
A moving shadow behind the sheer curtain drew my attention and moments later Dominic emerged, all narrowed eyes like a hungry hawk ready for feasting. His stare moved over the three of us and as quick as he came, he was gone again. Maybe Blaze had told him detectives had gotten past his security. Maybe he was giving me a not so subtle warning to watch my mouth. Whatever the case, he left a cold chill in his wake.
“You guys are drawing attention. He knows who you are.”
“How?”
“I knew before I’d even sat down that you were Vice.”
Both men gave each other a once over. “Do tell,” Simon said, intrigued.
“The shiny shoes, the expensive watch. Your reluctance to hand over your credit card. You know not to drink the sugary cocktails because they’re double, sometimes triple the shot, sometimes laced and you’ve barely touched your Scotch because you’re keeping your wits about you. You hired me for VIP treatment but don’t want a tease. The persistent questioning instead of receiving a dance, and you haven’t bathed yourself in cologne.”
They genuinely looked confused with the last one, so I clarified. “We can pick detectives by how they smell. Men who come in here looking for some attention tend to douse themselves in cologne thinking they’ll smell good for us, trying to make an impression. Detectives don’t come in here looking for attention. They’re looking for other things, like answers to their persistent questions, so smelling good to make an impression on a girl taking off her clothes isn’t a high priority.”
“I see he’s got you well trained,” Jason said, both impressed and concerned.
I didn’t know how to respond to his comment. Trained was certainly one way of looking at it.
“Is he hurting you?”
My palms grew sweaty, Anton’s penetrating stare worsening my anxiety. “You guys should go. I’ll get Blaze to reimburse you.”
“Diamond, we can give you a way out,” Simon said with urgency.
I scoffed because if that’s what they were offering, they clearly didn’t know Dominic Salvatore. “A way out?”
“Yes. If Dominic is holding you against your will, we can help.”
“That’s really nice of you, but you don’t know what you’d be going up against.”
Jason eyed Anton before edging closer. “I can tell you’re scared so I’m not going to pressure you. I want you to think on it, though. Will you promise me?”
“You’re wasting your time.”
“And you’re wasting your life if you ignore help and choose to stay.”
Does he think I stay here because I welcome the punishment?
“You don’t know the first fucking thing about me or my situation, so don’t sit there all high and mighty pretending you’re God. Because around here, Dominic Salvatore is God and he gets off on destroying those who double-cross him. And just because you’re Vice doesn’t make you immune.”
“We’re not afraid of Dominic.”
I almost felt sorry for Jason. “You should be.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you, Diamond. You have to be careful who you trust, I get it.”
Reaching into his jacket pocket with his hand closest to the wall, he carefully slid a business card along the shadows of the leather lounge. “Call this number if ever you’re ready to make a clean break. I promise we’ll be there for you.”
I should have just walked away.
I should have known better than to double-cross Dominic Salvatore.
But I was foolish. Too concerned my deception was written all over my face, I played along with the detective’s good intentions. Nodding, I slipped the card under my own hand and folded it in half all without Anton batting an eyelid. When he turned his attention to a group of men entering from the club, I stowed the card in my bra.
I rose to leave knowing if I stayed any longer Dominic would press me later for answers, and his method of extracting information was stuff of my nightmares.
Jason pulled me close. “Dominic Salvatore is not God. We’re not afraid of him and neither should you be.”
I wanted to believe Jason. But I’ve seen and felt Dominic’s brutality on many occasions and underestimating that man was just as dangerous as the blood running through his veins. I moved closer still so there was no mistaking my words.
“I’m not scared of him. I’m terrified. And if he finds out what you’re doing, you should run for your life.”
~~~
“You better get out of here,”
Monique warned, her eyes flicking to the door. “I heard what happened.”
I stilled, twisting the bag zipper between my fingers. I didn’t want to relive what I saw in the hall. It would already plague me as soon as I closed my eyes, just like all the other times.
She pulled her sequined dress over her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Her beautiful naked ebony skin was sheer perfection. Reaching for her bra, she continued in a low, cautious voice. “The girls are talking. Some are even requesting not to work the nights you’re on.”
I could understand their resentment, but it still hurt. I needed allies, but allies were hard to come by when what happened to them was the result of what Dominic wanted to do to me. Building friends was impossible on the premise they might become collateral damage.
“You’ve always got me, babe,” she reassured while buttoning up her jeans.
It was sweet of her to offer but that invitation was purely dependent on who Dominic set his sights on. “And what if he comes after you?”
She found that humorous. “Honey, I’m not as petite as the girlies he’s been going after. Probably too scared I’ll break his balls. Which says more about him then it does us.”
I didn’t doubt her for a second. Monique was like an Amazonian goddess who oozed both beauty and strength. She certainly wasn’t a push-over.
Zipping our bags, we made to leave together. I’d already heard along the grapevine that Dominic had left the club earlier, but I still preferred to have someone I could trust next to me, and Blaze had already been picked up by her man. The club was still buzzing, the morning girls having already arrived for their shifts and the bouncers seemed busy dealing with the drunks. Monique pushed on the lock bar and the heavy red back door opened to a blast of cold night air. When it slammed shut behind us, it cut off the music, leaving us in relative peace. Retrieving her car key, Monique unlocked her BMW. “Want a ride?”
I looked to the SUV parked under the street lamp. “No, thank you. My ride’s here.”