Chapter 45
Alley gazed anxiously at the money, her expression tense as she worried it wouldn't be enough — and from a glance, I could see it wasn't. But still, she was hopeful. "I swear they promised more?"
And this, right here, was why I despised bloodsuckers. This was exactly why. They took advantage whenever they could, and Wade and Jager seemed oblivious to it.
"And you believed them?" I asked, rolling my eyes.
Typically, for a private dance, you waited for the money to be handed over or for them to tuck it into a strap as you danced.
But I'd made a rule for myself: the money I asked for was to be laid out in full, right there in front of both of us, before anything else.
"You're the bosses' server; they've never shorted you, right?"
"No."
She pouted. "So why don't we get the same respect? Every customer we get treats us like trash."
"That's not entirely true. I know they push boundaries, but it's not as bad as you think," I replied, counting the bills carefully and setting a few aside.
"It's like you're working in another club."
"But I'm here, aren't I?" I looked up, balancing the tally in my mind as I continued counting.
"Does the boss have a soft spot for you?"
"You think them liking me is what this is?" I scoffed. "I have to dance, serve, and flirt just to get what I need. I don't just sit there looking pretty."
"I'm sorry," Alley said, sighing. "I don't mean to judge. I'm just saying... it seems like it's a little easier for you."
"Trust me, it's not."
I was practically homeless, constantly scrambling for extra money that never felt like "extra" at all. Worry followed me like a shadow. Most of these girls still had roommates who wouldn't ditch them to run off with the enemy; I wasn't so lucky.
"The total's two thousand," I announced.
"Damn it," she cursed under her breath. "I wanted three." She looked at me, hopeful.
"Hey, it's all yours. I don't take a cut," I replied. My presence might've made the guys throw in a little more, but without it, she'd have probably made even less.
"Just give him that; that's your take."
"Ethan won't get that," she muttered, clearly frustrated. "He'll just say it's an excuse."
I smirked, ready for a challenge. "Come on, let's go," I said, heading out of the dressing room.
She grabbed her things, exhaling. "Please, just... don't say anything."
"We're just giving him the money," I said with a shrug. I pounded on the door with both fists, and if I'd had their kind of strength, I might have knocked it down. I stormed inside, and his glare shifted, locking immediately onto Alley.
He stumbled out of his chair, growling. "Just so you know, I'm not dealing with you," he spat.
"Because you can't handle me," I shot back. "She's only got five thousand dollars."
"It's a weekend night," he sneered. "Go work your body for more."
"That's all she could get," I said coolly. "There are other servers and performers out there. Collect from them, too."
He leaned in, seething. "Listen, you little worn-out thing. I need my profit, the bosses need theirs, and I have to pay the girls." His glare was still fixed on Alley.
I stepped forward. "I think you're talking to me."
He huffed, exasperated. "Yes, I'm talking to you. But we both know your little circumstances, so don't come barking in here. You're the bosses' precious princess, aren't you? Why don't you go up to the VIP section and act like it."
"Why don't you start treating the girls fairly?" I countered. "Because the customers sure aren't."
"Oh, you want fair?" he sneered. "You humans always want 'fair.' If it's equality you're after, then go find it at a county fair."
"Without us, you wouldn't be making a dime," I said, crossing my arms. "So why don't you throw on a bra and panties over that disgusting body of yours and go make the money you're always claiming the girls aren't making."
"Get out of my office before I drag you to the bosses myself," he snapped. "You think they actually like you? We've had centuries to perfect sweet-talking and manipulation."
I smirked, almost amused. Good thing I wasn't swayed by empty words or the type to sit back and wait for handouts.
"The shift's nearly over. She's not making any more than what she's got."
"I said, get out." He held out his hand for the money. Alley stepped forward hesitantly, but he grabbed her wrist, yanking her down. This was the second time I saw such things done to her, and I was there to witness both.
He stared menacingly into her eyes, his gaze sparking fear. "You either get on your knees or let me bend you over. I want two thousand more by the end of tonight, or you're not getting paid."
I rushed forward, thankful for the extra height from my heels, and threw a punch at his face. I winced as the impact stung my hand, but I growled, "Let her go!"
"That's it!" he spat, shoving the girl away with a final warning. "Either you get down there and do what it takes, or you're going home without a cent."
She nodded, running off, but before I could go after her, Ethan grabbed me just as I reached the door.
"Let me go!" I twisted, aiming a kick at his thigh. He caught my foot instead and released my arm, sending me sprawling onto the carpet. The soft floor barely cushioned my fall, and pain flared in my head as it hit the ground.
He yanked me by the ankle, dragging me across the carpet. It felt like my leg was about to pop out of its socket. "Let me go, you bastard!" I gritted out, twisting my body enough to swing my free leg and drive it into his foot. He stumbled and finally released my ankle.
I tried to get up, but he grabbed my wrist again. He dragged me toward the stairs, each step jarring as my body slammed against the steel risers.
"Let me go!" I shouted, wincing in pain.
"No! I'm letting your bosses deal with you," he growled.
After what felt like an eternity of battering, he finally lifted me, as if deciding I'd had enough. He shoved me down the walkway, and I stumbled forward as heads turned from every booth, all eyes on me.
"I can walk on my own," I spat, pulling my arm free.
He smirked. "Just giving you a little push." With that, he shoved me again, nearly sending me face-first to the floor. I dropped down, bracing on all fours to keep my balance, then forced myself back up.
Another shove, and I collided hard with a surface. My vision blurred, voices swirling around me but distorted, as if underwater. I tried to grab onto the solid surface, but it felt like I was slipping, sinking further into a void where there should've been a floor.
Suddenly, arms caught me and pulled me up. Pain throbbed in my mouth, and as I moved my tongue, I tasted blood. The copper tang made me cringe, and I heard someone sniff the air.
"Did you make her bleed?" Wade's voice was sharp with disbelief.
"She was mouthing off; it's not my fault," Ethan snapped. Gentle hands tilted my head, lifting it softly.
Through blurred vision, I saw Jagger looking at me, concern in her eyes. I was seated in her lap as she softly coaxed, "Open up, bunny." Her fingers gently encouraged my jaw to loosen, and I slowly unclenched, opening my mouth for her inspection.
Jager leaned in, inspecting my mouth carefully. "So, you did make her bleed?" she asked, her voice laced with anger.
"It wasn't intentional," Ethan stammered. "She was fighting me—"
"We need to talk," Wade interrupted, her tone icy.
"And it's going to be a long, serious one.
Jager, stay here," she commanded. I looked up just as Wade stepped forward, delivering two swift punches to Ethan's face, knocking him to the ground.
She hauled him back up and began pushing him down the hallway the same way he had dragged me.
I couldn't help but smirk, watching him get a taste of his own treatment.
Jager stayed beside me, pulling me close in her arms, her lips warm against my forehead.
Moments later, Wade returned, but she wasn't alone—she dragged a battered, bleeding Ethan behind her. She stopped in front of me and forced him to kneel at my feet. His blood dripped heavily from multiple wounds, including a deep gash across his neck.
Wade knelt beside me, brushing her knuckles tenderly across my lips. "For you," she murmured, her voice soft. "He made you bleed, so I made him bleed for you."
I could hardly believe the sight before me—Ethan, bleeding out. What could I say? A thank you? I looked up at Wade, and in that moment, she looked beautifully unhinged, murder flashing in her eyes. She'd done this for me, and a warm thrill spread through me at the gesture.
"I really appreciate it," I managed, my voice shaking.
Wade smiled, clearly pleased with herself, and gave a nod. I watched as she poured herself a shot, downed it, savoring the burn, then took a sip from her glass of blood-red wine.
"Take your time. Stare at him as long as you want," she said, raising her glass in a small toast before taking another shot.
"Glad to see you didn't kill him," Jager whispered in my ear. I tightened my grip around her, my eyes still fixed on Ethan.
"Can't you hear him wheezing for breath?" she murmured.
Ethan stayed perfectly still, kneeling and visibly struggling for air, probably too scared to move, knowing one wrong shift might make him bleed out entirely.
"He'll survive. Won't you, Ethan?" Wade drawled, leisurely working her way through her drinks, one after another.
She looked as flawless as ever, and I couldn't help but wonder what she'd used to leave him in this condition.
Not that I should dwell on that—I had the victory Wade had laid at my feet.
"Ethan's learned his lesson," Wade said with a smirk. "I beat him into being a good boy."