Chapter 21
Alma
“Alma you’re up!” Claudi shouts.
It’s another packed Saturday night, and the energy of the crowd is buzzing. I tug the blue mesh dress down, barely long enough to cover my matching baby blue thong.
Standing tall in a dark blue wig, fishnet stockings, and blue platform heels, I nod to the DJ. My heels click against the floor as I evolve into a much more confident version of me.
“Ella no vino a salvarte, vino a hechizarte. The bad fairy, the last fantasy, the woman who’ll haunt your dreams. Give it up for La Hada Mala!”
It’s the perfect introduction. The music starts, and the girls on the rings above me begin their routine. I slowly walk to the stage with the song beat—It’s time by Steve Aioki. Circling the pole with a slight bounce, I look up to the new balcony and VIP section.
Claudi renovated the entire stage, adding three poles that extend from the stage to the ceiling. I look out to the crowd, hopeful that I might see Efren. Instead, I’m met with unrecognizable faces and bright lights that blind me.
I bounce around the pole a few more times, my back to the audience as I shake my ass. With a deep breath, I began the prestigious climb I’ve practiced all week. Hand over hand, I pull my body up the pole. The crowd screams, and adrenaline courses through my veins as the song begins a countdown.
10
9
8
I move quickly up the two-story pole.
7
6
Hand over hand as the crowd screams louder.
5
I reach the top of the pole, hook both legs around it, then stabilize my core and move my upper body back and forth. Looking down, I can see the crowd going wild, and my adrenaline increases.
4
3
2
1
My body moves to the beat, but the moment I hear the one I’m waiting for, I fly down the pole, stopping right before I hit the stage. Dollar bills fly all around me. A small laugh escapes me before I catch my breath.
The atmosphere is its own brand of high, I can’t turn down. The excitement. The rush. It’s everything to me. Turning upside down, I spread my legs and bounce my ass to the beat. It’s one that has your body moving long before your mind has caught up.
There’s few words, but the melody carries the song as sirens play in the background, causing a collective rush of energy vibrating throughout La Cuevita. Penny and another girl join me on stage, climbing the poles as I work the crowd.
Sweat drips down my body as I crawl backward to the edge of the stage. Seeing all the loose bills encourages me to keep going. I’ve been working on this routine, pouring everything into it to distract me from Efren’s absence this last week.
Stripping has become more than just money for me. Over time, it’s become a creative outlet. One that’s beginning to wear and tear on my body. I have no doubt there’ll be a strain on my arms tomorrow after climbing up and down the pole all week to perfect my timing.
By the time the music has faded and the lights lower, I’m out of breath. The crew comes out and sweeps up the cash, filling a garbage bag with dollar bills.
I’m in the middle of counting my tips as the club continues to roar in the background. The night is coming to an end. In the next twenty minutes, they will have last call. It’s too late to offer any private dances, but I’m confident I’ll still get offers after that performance.
“You killed that shit!” Penny exclaims.
“That’s why she’s a crowd favorite!” Claudi agrees, clapping as he enters the dressing room.
I smile at him, but then I notice a flicker of hesitation in his posture.
“No,” I say. I know that look on his face. “Not tonight. I’m tired.”
“I know. I know. But this guy’s persistent. I told him he’d have to make it worth your while.” Claudi tilts his head to the side. “The guy’s willing to pay $2,000 for an hour of your time.”
Shit.
“$2,000 dollars! Bitch if you don’t take it, I will!” Penny shrieks.
“You offering commission on top of that?” I challenge Claudi.
“For my best dancer? Claro que sí. Plus your tips. You’d be able to take a week off and recover with that.”
I do need to recover. And anyone offering that much money sounds like the type of client who wants to sit and talk for the majority of the time. I’ll have to rub my ass on their shriveled-up dick for a good tip, but most of it would be free therapy.
“Fine. What room?”
“Atta girl! Smart and sexy.” He looks to the other girls while gesturing his hand to me. “I’ll let our client know. He requested El Purgatorio.”
My eyes shoot up to Claudi’s then to Penny’s, whose eyes widen. That is La Madrina’s room, and while we’ve worked it with her before, I’m far from a mistress.
“Hombre. He’s not wanting—” I stammer.
“Nah. I told him already you weren’t a trained Dominatrix, and he was fine with it.”
Claudi offers his hand holding benzos, but I deny it. Penny gives me a half smile and shrugs. Money is money. I walk down the long hallway. The door creaks as I step inside the room. Turning on the lights, I take in the room with fresh eyes.
Noting the client has yet to arrive, I move to the rumored electric chair. Sliding my hands over the solid wood and wide armrests, I can feel the energy of it. Missy said objects carry energy, and while most times that is true, I can’t quite figure out the energy behind this chair.
The thick leather straps hang from the arms, legs, and chest to hold a person in place. Behind the chair is a metal headpiece.
I’m still taking in the chair when I hear footsteps behind me. My body shrinks in on itself, the persistent feeling of a threat walking toward me. My mouth goes dry, and my heart races when I hear his voice.
“Hey, Kitten.”
The scent of tobacco and bergamot hits my nostrils as a weird mix of relief and anger swirls inside me. I don’t move, not even when his breath hits my shoulder. From the distorted mirror, I watch as his nose gently glides against my bare skin.
“What the hell do you want, Efren?” My voice shakes.
He coos seductively, his hot breath on my back sending goosebumps down my bare arm. “You didn’t miss me, darling?”
“I didn’t even notice you were gone,” I lie, looking at the mirrors to get a glimpse of him.
It’s no use. They’re too stretched, making the reflections of us look taller, shorter, or curvier depending on which of the mirrors I look at. I can only see the shape of him standing behind me.
His hands wrap around my hips as he pushes into me. I can feel the hardness of him between his pants and the thin fabric of my dress. My entire space is filled with his presence. The temperature in my body rises at the very feel of him erect against me.
“Mentiras. I think you couldn’t stop thinking about me.”
His hands trail down the back of my thigh, his touch smooth and exhilarating.
“About my fingers fucking your tight pussy. How good it felt.”
He drags it up the hem of my dress and runs his fingers over my thong.
“?Estás cachonda mija?”
Any objection I can make dies when I feel the slickness between my legs.
“What do you want, Efren?” The words stumble out of my mouth.
“What I’ve always wanted.” His lips lower to my ear. “You.”
My pulse races, and I think about giving in. But then I see the memory again. Efren cleaning the gun and looking down at me.
“Is that why you killed Esteban? So you could have me?”
His hand stills, and he lets out a low laugh before he frees it from my mesh dress and drags it up the front of my body.
“And what if I did?” he challenges.
“I fucking hate you,” I say through clenched teeth.
His hand moves higher until he’s wrapping my throat in his grip. My heart thumps loudly as I feel his fingers press against my pulse point. My eyes bulge, and panic rises in me. Skipping over flight, my body goes straight to fight mode.
The mirrors that surround us feel like they’re closing in on me, and then I see something in the reflection. My saving fucking grace. I reach my arms behind us both and pull the gun out of the back of his waistband.
Cocking the weapon, I point it directly at him. My hands tremble with anger as I wobble slightly on my heels before regaining my balance.
“Get on your fucking knees, asshole.”