33. Tess
TESS
The metal door slammed shut behind me, my eyes adjusting to the darker hallway as I walked toward the dressing room.
Crystal, another dancer whose shift was just ending, walked toward me and waved. “Hey, girl. Nice to see you!”
“You too.” I smiled back before turning into the dressing room.
It was odd to be back here. So much had happened to me in the two weeks since my last shift. And I knew that somewhere out there, my two masked freaks would be taking their seats and getting ready to watch me work.
Backstage was crowded. Between the shift change and the busy time of night, we were well staffed.
From their vanities, the other girls gasped before sarcastic applause broke out. Sapphire shook her head. “The prodigal stripper lives!”
After I marked my name down on the white board, I scoffed as I threw my bag down into my usual chair. “Very funny, ladies.”
Everyone went back to prepping for their numbers, each of them dropping by my station as they moved around the dressing room. If my math was right, Cherry was on stage right now and I’d be going on three numbers later.
I had about fifteen minutes to prepare before my first song.
But it was the thud of a large duffel bag dropping onto the lycra counter that drew my eyes up.
Crossing her arms, Lola — better known as Cherry — stared down at me. “Nice of you to show up, Tess. Fucking Casper-ass, ghosting me while I had your shit.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” Biting the inside of my cheek, I tried to figure out how to explain to her what I’d been through the last week.
“I’m just glad you’re alive, you bitch.” Lola threw herself down in the plush leather makeup chair next to mine. “A text would’ve been nice.”
Nodding, I unzipped the duffel bag and pulled out one of my work outfits. “My phone broke. Had to get a new gig to pay for a new one.”
It wasn’t a complete lie. I was going to work Fright Nights until I could get my twenty grand. The way I studied that place, it felt like I’d enrolled at Atwood to get a degree in escaping murderous, masked clowns.
Digging around the bag, I looked for something that wouldn’t be the most scandalous costume I could wear. Sure, I’d let Blade fuck me and Nash had used me for her weird art project. But this was my job, and I didn’t know how they’d behave after seeing me work.
It wouldn’t be the first time some dirtbag thought they could touch me however they pleased after my dance.
But I found a red piece — a faux-snake skin microkini. It was hot, a newer one in my collection.
Standing from my chair, I threw off the baggy tshirt I’d worn in.
“I am sorry,” I looked at Lola through the lit-up makeup mirror. “I really appreciate you holding my stuff.”
“Thanks.” Lola pursed her lips as she met my gaze. “I was worried about you, bitch.” Turning in her chair, she watched as I slipped my outfit on. “But if you needed some money for a new phone, you could’ve asked. I would have loaned you some.”
Of course I knew that was true. We hadn’t known each other long, but Lola was my type of person. Strong, independent, kind. She’d been nothing but sweet to me from the day we met. But she also didn’t take shit, the toddler she had at home making her a tough cookie and quite protective.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” It was cold now, the tiny little bikini exposing nearly every centimeter of my skin to the air conditioned backroom.
Digging to the bottom of the bag, I grabbed the black, platform heels. They were my seven-inch stilettos. Something a little easier for my first dance back.
I hiked my leg up onto the chair to slip the shoes on, clasping it around my ankle and taking a few steps in them.
Lola swiveled back toward me, her hazel eyes glowing under the bright lights. “But you’re really okay?”
With a laugh, I nodded as the house manager called my name. Turning back to Lola, I shrugged. “I’m good. I found a place to stay, at least for now.”
“Good.”
Shuffling out of the dressing room, I hollered over my shoulder, “Tell Chrissy that I miss her!”
When I’d been staying on the couch, I would be Chrissy’s daycare. Lola would hustle her multiple jobs — paralegal by day, stripper by night — and I would invent games for Chrissy and I.
It was one of the better places I’d stayed. But that didn’t make it comfortable. I still hardly knew Lola in any real way. She’d offered me a place to stay when we first met, but I didn’t want to wear through my goodwill by taking every favor she gave me.
Shaking it off, I tried to get in the headspace for my dance. Stopping by the DJ booth, I leaned in and asked the gray-haired woman to put my favorite song on.
Pushing the curtains open, I plastered on a sexy smile for the crowd. The place wasn’t packed, but if I played my cards right, I could walk away with a few hundred tonight.
On cue, Pour It On by Rihanna blared over the speakers. Catwalking around the stage, I strutted around the edge of the platform. A small, silver railing lined the border, a way of making sure we didn’t accidentally step off the edge.
In the crowd, I spotted Nash and Blade. They leaned back in one of the velvet pink booths toward the back.
As my song sped up, I walked toward the pole. I tried to calm my nerves, knowing that I was being watched. It was one thing to dance with a random stranger in the audience and another for two of your… roommates to be in the audience.
Roommates who were very interested in some extracurricular activities.
Gripping the pole, I started with a few simple spins around the metal. Doing some floor work, I tried to warm up along with the music.
With my back to the pole, I let my hands stretch over my head, dropping down to the ground as the chorus started. I bounced along to the song, bobbing my head to the beat.
My eyes caught on my Freaks.
Nash sat back, leaning into the booth with her arm stretched over the length of the sofa. Her lightning bolt tattoos stretched along her muscles.
Next to her, Blade was finally still. Her eyes were peeled on me, one foot up on the booth and the other still touching the ground. She crossed her arms over her knee, her forearms bulging along the lines of her splattered ink.
I didn’t want to admit how gorgeous they were, chiseled jaw lines and toned muscles. But there was no denying how hot they looked.
In front of them, two towering stacks of bills rested on the table. Two plates of buffet food were piled high, buffalo wings cleaned from the bones on each plate.
At least they were making themselves at home.
I tried to disguise the confusion on my face, standing up and gripping the pole as I climbed up it.
I’d told security that they were with me which would have excluded them from the club's cash minimum.
Which means they chose to have it.
Wrapping my left leg and hands around the metal, I used the grip to lift my body up. The pole spun as I left the ground, pinning my right knee to the warmed staff.
Whoever my captors were, they cared about showing up. They weren’t here just to ogle beautiful women. They wanted to make it worth our time — not just appeasing a barrier to entry.
Slowly, I squeezed my core and released my hands grip on it. I let my body spin along with the pole, my hair draping down toward the ground as I went completely horizontal.
The song had really picked up now, cash starting to appear on the stage.
Blade walked closer, rising from her spot in the back booth. She leaned down, her hands gripping the edge of the stage.
Dropping to my knees, I decided to put some of my best moves on her. I kept eye contact with her as I crawled across the floor. Her pale green eyes still shone so brightly under the dim light of the club.
I grabbed singles from the floor, stuffing them in the thin string of my microkini, as I made sure my hips swayed with each move forward.
Blade licked her lips, her eyes growing heavy as her body responded to watching me.
When I was in front of her, I lifted off my hands and stretched up toward the ceiling.
She had plenty of space to place her bills now.
And Blade took advantage of her chance. She grabbed two, stuffing them in the space between my tits. When I looked down, brushed my hair off my shoulders, I realized they weren’t singles but twenties.
My eyes widened as I met Blade’s gaze.
She winked before grabbing a few more bills and placing them in the string of my bikini panties.
Wanting to give her a show, I leaned forward and let my smell waft over her.
In a deep growl, Blade spoke, “You’re worth at least a million more, Trinket.”
My throat tightened. Trying to keep my cool, and my mystique, I pulled away and walked back to the pole to finish my number.
I hoped they couldn’t see my surprise.
Have they ever come in before?
But I knew the answer. I would have recognized them, would have tried to make friends — or more.
As I finished, doing my final lift on the pole, Nash and Blade kept their eyes on me. They took turns admiring my body and meeting my gaze.
I could see the hunger in their eyes, even from across the club. There were no masks in here, nothing to hide how badly they really wanted me.
And at this point it was becoming impossible to deny that I wanted them just as badly.
Maybe I just wasn’t used to being respected by the dirtbags who usually stumbled in here.
But as the music faded and a generous applause resounded through the club, I couldn’t deny the pulsing between my legs.
I was in trouble now.