Chapter 20
The Barbie-pink locker I brought to the club three years ago was meant to keep my belongings safe from theft. Fortunately, the other girls had never stolen anything from me. We quickly became like family, and I was even given a personal locker along the wall of the dressing room.
However, in recent days, I had been relying on my pink locker for a sense of security. Since I didn't know most of the other girls, it felt comforting to have my own corner. But now, the spot where my pink locker once stood was empty.
"Has anyone seen my pink locker?" I asked the few girls in the dressing room, who were gathered around the long mirror and counter, filling the space with an array of makeup and accessories in preparation for a performance.
"No," one girl replied, wiping the lipstick off her lips and applying a fresh coat.
"Anyone else?" My patience began to wane as I pressed on.
They all shook their heads.
"Check with the boss. Maybe he knows," one girl suggested with a shrug. I shot her a glare. The boss definitely had my locker somewhere. They had seen Ethan take it and knew I was searching for it, yet they hadn't said a word until I asked.
I hate this place. I hate this place.
I opened Ethan's office and scanned the room for my pink locker. It was hard to miss, perched right on his desk, close to his elbow.
"Don't you ever knock?"
"Don't you ever learn not to touch what doesn't belong to you, bloodsucker?" I hissed, reaching for my locker, but the race was on, and he was quicker.
"Give it back."
"Wade and Jager, along with their mistresses, need to be served. Now."
"Just give me my locker."
He tossed the mini locker around as if it weighed nothing. "How much is in this, hmm?" He threw it into the air.
"None of your business!"
"You're supposed to be giving me money."
"The bosses said I don't have to."
"Well, I want my share of whatever's in there," he said. I growled in frustration, giving up the fight. There was exactly two thousand in there from my serving rounds, and I had earned at least a quarter of it from a fifteen-minute dance.
"When I get back, my money better be in that damn locker, and that fucking locker better be in its spot. You have less than thirty minutes."
"Is it going to take you thirty minutes to suck the balls off Wade and Jager, and then they'll come huffing? What's so special about you compared to all the other girls, lizard skin?"
I smirked. "You've got it wrong. They please me. I don't please them."
"We'll see about tonight."
"We'll see in the next thirty minutes. My money stays, and my locker goes back in its spot. Thir-ty mi-nutes," I pronounced each word clearly for him to hear.
I headed to the bar, collected the drinks, and made my way up to the VIP section. It was getting fuller each day, with all the lounge booths and chairs occupied by groups. The capacity for the VIP section was probably twenty or fewer.
The bouncer usually did head counts and would close it off when it reached capacity. I roughly counted around fifteen heads, with more people at Wade and Jager's table—two extra women, to be exact.
I sighed heavily as I walked up to them.
"Good evening. I'm your server for tonight.
" The serving schedule was thirty minutes on, thirty minutes off.
I served them now, staying nearby for thirty minutes in case they needed anything, after which I'd get a thirty-minute break.
This arrangement allowed me to perform and serve others.
The thirty-minute intervals weren't strictly enforced; most girls adhered to it, but some didn't.
I was serving them to give Ethan some time, and I stared curiously at the two beautiful women. They looked like wives, here to see how the business was going, while Jager and Wade resembled two irritated vampires, their partners clinging to them.
The two women were stunning, both in sleek black dresses, their skin, a pale smooth radiant.
They both had perfect faces, while I could already see the signs of aging creeping in on me.
My heart began to slow down as I continued to gaze at them; they exuded a certain elegance that suggested they never had to worry about their money being stolen.
I felt a grinding sound in my mouth and realized it was my teeth, grinding together in jealousy. Wade and Jager didn't spare me a single glance. How could they? I honestly had no idea they were married, and the revelation made me feel slightly nauseous.
The woman clinging to Wade's arm whispered things in her ear, while she remained her usual monotone self.
It seemed irrelevant who was beside her; she would always be as stiff as a board.
Jager, on the other hand, appeared more interested in flirting and having fun, yet she remained still, lost in thought.
I supposed they couldn't be all over me.
I smirked, reaching for the tray and excusing myself. I slid the tray onto the counter and headed toward the corner where my locker was supposed to be. But when I arrived, I found it ripped open, and everything inside was gone.
Fuming, I stormed back out. As I tried to open Ethan's door, I discovered it was locked tight, as if he knew I would come back. I pounded on the door with both fists.
"You bloodsucker and money stealer!" I yelled, though with the music blaring, I doubted he could hear me. He definitely could hear my relentless knocking, fueled by a wave of anger.
It had never occurred to me that they were married.
They had been alive for decades, even centuries, and the sight of them together twisted my insides.
I knew I would never have the life of being married and settled down.
That wasn't in the cards for most humans.
Our population was shrinking, and there weren't many men to choose from.
Plus, with the job I was doing, it was hard for a man to take me seriously. He didn't understand that this was the only work available to me right now. The vampires occupied the high-paying jobs and left us with this, which wasn't even considered a legitimate career.
"I'm talking to you! I want my money!"
It wasn't just two thousand dollars; it was two thousand dollars that represented a step toward savings. I was on a strict, tight budget.
Once I got home, I put all my money in a safe. My best friend and I split everything 50/50—food and bills—leaving whatever was left for savings. We didn't go out for girls' nights because we both knew we wouldn't feel right knowing we were one step closer to a better life.
I supposed that saving and knowing we could eventually achieve our dreams was what kept us composed and collected. Our goal was to buy a piece of land in the only human neighborhood and build a little house, just to live.
"Hello!" My throat hawked from too much yelling. "I want my money back!" I shouted, striding toward the far back. The worker's bathroom door swung open, and Shay stumbled out, her eyes wide and clouded with disorientation.
"Are you alright?" I asked, concerned.
She nodded, but then a guy slipped out behind her.
"What did he do?"
"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it," she whispered, wiping the corner of her mouth.
I turned to say something to the guy, but he was already gone. "If you don't want to, you don't have to," I whispered, sensing what had happened.
She shrugged. "The boss needs his money." With that, she walked away. I continued down the corridor and stepped outside, needing to breathe.
I pushed the door open, and the Las Vegas night air hit me like a wave.
My nose struggled to adjust to the lack of freshness; this was the back alley, often used as a bathroom by men who couldn't bear to wait in the long lines.
They came here to relieve themselves against the walls of the club and the jewelry store next door.
I chose a spot to lean against the leeward edge of the wall, resting against the dirty yet surprisingly smooth surface. The air drifting in from the city ahead wasn't fresh. I glanced up at the large casino sign illuminating the skyscrapers, surrounded by a few corporate buildings and offices.
The blinking lights from the city cast a long, shimmering glow across the landscape.
When I eventually moved on, I knew I wouldn't miss this place. Here felt like the land of opportunity—somewhere you come to work before leaving to retire elsewhere.
I gazed up at the dull, plain sky; everything seemed lackluster and uninspired. Taking a deep breath, Wade and Jager flashed through my mind, and I reminded myself to ensure everything was alright.
As I opened my eyes to walk away, I froze when I noticed a dark figure emerging from the building, their face hidden beneath a hood.
"Ethan told me you'd be out here, you fucking little human."
My eyes widened; it was the voice of the guy who had kicked me out of the VIP section. At least it was one of them. My relief quickly faded when two more hooded figures followed behind him. Their cloaks signaled that their intentions toward me were anything but good.