5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
I drive home still tasting the remnants of that kiss that ended too damn soon.
Grannie Mags is sitting in her recliner watching the evening news. “You’re home early.”
“I need to pack,” I snap with more bite than intended.
She doesn’t comment, and I’m grateful. I’m not in the mood for one of her lectures tonight.
I disappear down the hall to my room, careful not to slam my door too hard, though I’d like to break it off the hinges right now.
Men are stupid. I hate them all.
Especially Braxton Gray. He’s the biggest jerk of them all.
I pull my backpack out of my closet, unsure if I even want to go to Anarchy now. Especially when it means riding with Gray and likely having to witness him flirting with anything with tits.
One second he’s all hot for me and the next he’s cold as ice.
And only when I threaten to stop caring does he make a move.
He doesn’t get it. I want a man who fights for me.
A man who looks at me and knows that I’m the only woman he will ever desire.
Sometimes I think that maybe he feels the same as me, but then he shows his ass and reminds me he doesn’t.
Maybe he never will. I keep hoping that one day he will grow up and stop being such a manwhore.
That he’ll grow some balls and tell my brother he wants me.
I’d think it’s all in my head if Madz hadn’t told me he called her my name when she was sucking his dick. Who does that?
I’m not crazy. He wants me.
So why is he scared to make a move?
Woods might be pissed at first, but he’d get over it. He loves Gray more than our own brother, Dirty.
I finish shoving my good underwear into my backpack. Not like it matters. It’s not like Gray will get to see them. I should go fuck some random guy at the rally. That’d show him, but all these years I’ve been saving myself for him. Because I love him.
Stupid love.
Stupid heart.
Stupid Gray.
My cell phone buzzes.
I glance at the screen, half hoping it’s Gray calling to apologize, even though I know he won’t. The name flashing across the screen belongs to my best friend, Elsie Jo.
I slide my thumb across the screen. “Yo.” I press the speaker icon and toss my phone onto my bed as I grab some socks from a drawer.
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Contemplating murder.”
“I’ve got a shovel.”
“That’s why you’re my bestie.” She doesn’t ask questions. Elsie Jo is ready to ride or die, regardless of the situation. This is why I adore her.
“Before we commit a crime, you should come out with me tonight.”
“Out where?”
“Don’t freak out, but they’re having an amateur night at Cherry’s.”
“My brother would kill me if I went.”
“Who is going to tell him?”
I chew on my thumb.
“It’s not like you’ll be the one dancing. I could use the moral support.”
“Okay. Fine. I can’t stay out too late. I’m leaving in the morning for California.”
“I’ll pick you up in an hour.” She hangs up and I whip off my bathing suit and find something slutty to wear to the titty bar.
“Hey girl.” Elsie Jo snaps her fingers to some upbeat song as I slide into the passenger side of her beater.
If I was her, I’d be worried her bass is going to vibrate a tire loose or something.
I should have offered to drive or meet her at the club.
My truck is older than hers, but she inherited a lemon that’s falling apart and is probably the reason she’s giving stripping a shot.
She doesn’t bring in much working part-time doing laundry at the assisted living facility.
She’s been trying to get hired on full-time for over a year now, but there’s just not any spots open.
Things move slowly in our small town. If I wasn’t on the family payroll, I’d have moved away the second I graduated to find work.
I’m lucky to still live at home with my Grannie Mags and not have to pay rent.
Like me, Elsie lives at home, but her parents charge her lot rent for having a tiny home in their backyard.
It’s really a glorified shed. It doesn’t even have a bathroom.
So if she has to pee in the middle of the night, she’s forced to trudge across the yard to her folks' place.
If they knew she was going to Cherry’s to take her clothes off, they’d kick her to the curb. Her parents are strict and ultra-religious. They’ve never approved of our friendship.
But that’s never stopped us from being partners in crime.
We get to the bar and I’m jittery with my nerves working overtime.
This is one place my brother has forbidden me from ever working at.
I’ve always respected the rule. I’ve never had a need or desire to take my clothes off for money.
Not that I’m knocking the profession. Dancers work damn hard for their money.
We make it inside. I don’t recognize anyone working.
All the guys are probably at the clubhouse since OBMC are in town and most of us are riding out tomorrow.
Which is good for me. I can cut loose without having to look over my shoulder for Woods or Gray.
Cherry’s is what you’d expect. Dark, reeking of sex and money.
Elsie Jo glances around the bar at the dark room and neon lights lighting up the center stage. “I don’t think I can do this.”
“You need a shot to loosen you up.” I guide her to the bar and order us a couple of blowjobs from the chick working behind the bar. “I love your hair.”
“Thank you. Around here, you never know what kind of reception you’ll get.”
The top is black, but underneath one side are hints of hot pink and neon green on the other like the colors are playing peekaboo. I wish I could be so bold. If I went home with my hair like that, Grannie Mags would shave me bald in my sleep.
“Do you normally get a good turnout for this?”
“It depends. You going to give it a go?”
“Me?” I grin and shake my head. “No way. I’m here to support my bestie.” I glance over at Elsie Jo, who looks like she’s going to puke on her shoes at any moment. “Hey, you okay?”
“I really don’t think I can do this.”
“You’re going to be fine.”
“You got any tips for my friend?”
“Yeah, don’t vomit on the stage or the guys.”
“Oh, God.” She bolts to the bathroom.
I follow after her and find her hunched over a toilet.
Gathering her hair into my fist, I hold it back as she upchucks whatever she ate today. I scrunch my nose and bury it in the crook of my free arm.
“You’ll have to take my place.”
“What? Me? No way. My brothers would chop off my tits or something. Woods would kill me, and Fletcher would lock me up with Dirty.”
“I really need the money.” She falls back on her ass as the automatic flusher whirls.
“What’s going on?”
“My financial aid for school fell through, and if I can’t pay, then I can kiss nursing school goodbye. If I could get hired on full-time at the nursing home, they’d pay for my degree, but there’s not any openings.”
I know this. I do. I chew my lower lip.
“I’m sure I could talk to the club and get you a loan or something. They do stuff like that all the time.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“But you’ll ask me to take my clothes off.”
We both laugh. “I mean, would you get up there with me?”
“And do what?”
“I don’t know.”
The thing is, if our roles were reversed, Elsie Jo would do it for me. She’d get up on that stage, nerves and all, to shake the only thing her momma ever gave her. A fat ass.
“I can’t believe I’m saying yes to this.” I’m going to need another shot or five.
I ask the bartender behind the bar if we can freshen up in the dressing room. I know the girls keep extra stuff back there.
There’s a couple of featured dancers working tonight. Honestly, I expect them to be rude because we are potential competition for them. But surprisingly, they give us pointers and touch up Elsie Jo’s makeup, explaining it needs to be heavier for being on stage.
Shoot. If I ever need my makeup done professionally, I know who I’m calling.
“You girls are up next,” a busty blonde tells us.
Great. “Ready?” I squeeze Elsie Jo’s hand. I have no freaking idea what I’m getting myself into or what’s going to happen when we get out on this stage. The good news is when walk out the rest of the bar is so dark I can’t tell how many people are in the crowd.
Someone whistles as the music starts. Else stands frozen like she’s an ice sculpture.
“Show us your tits,” some old dude heckles.
Fuck it. I wrap my hand around the pole and slide my back up and down it, pretending I know what I’m doing while my bestie runs off the stage leaving me to go it alone.
She’s lucky I love her.