Chapter 6
Saige
The Strike Zone.
Catchy name.
I’d been fearful the location would be in some sleazy part of town, pleasantly surprised when Tawny had listed the address as being in the meatpacking district, a location where there were a solid two dozen trendy clubs and hotels.
As soon as I’d walked down the street from the subway stop, music coming from every direction had assaulted my senses.
By the time I’d gotten close to the address, I could see activity on the rooftop.
While the building was only a midrise, the facade was sleek with a red awning out front and bouncers not only standing by the entrance, but at least two others walking the perimeter.
Like guards.
Or soldiers.
I’d sensed they were armed, which wasn’t completely unusual in New York. The sidewalk had been crawling with people dressed in designer clothes, all hoping for a chance to be selected to get inside. When I’d walked past the crowd, I’d heard groans and experienced catcalls.
Thank God I’d worn a long coat covering the stupid outfit that I had no business being in. I wasn’t this girl, not the one staring at me in the mirror. I’d waited to slap on the makeup until I’d reached my destination, Tawny telling me I’d have a dressing room to store my things.
She’d been right, the room nicer than I imagined the ones on Broadway to be.
Once I’d announced my name, I’d been led down a step of dimly lit stairs to the basement. That’s when the reality of what I was doing had hit me harder than before.
The noise was loud enough my ears were pounding, the selection of music different than what I’d heard outside.
Heavy metal music had met me downstairs, all hard-core bass and drums designed to create a powerful vibe, fueling the obvious testosterone in the room.
Now I stood in the space, gasping for air as I continued to stare at the girl in the mirror.
Contacts in, my natural curls allowed to stream past my shoulders and down my back, and the makeup just as glittery as what I’d remembered Tawny wearing.
Supplied by my best friend. I was still grousing as I’d done the entire afternoon and into the evening while trying to concentrate on work.
I was even wearing two garters to collect all the money I’d earn.
Why was I more than a little sick to my stomach thinking about parading around like some call girl instead of a card girl?
Thank God, Mr. Chertov had left for the day around three, which had allowed me to begin working on the spreadsheet that would turn into a presentation. In agreeing to help Tawny, I was losing valuable time. That would mean a long, sleepless night when I got home.
I couldn’t lie and say the cash wouldn’t come in handy, but Jesus, I was scared to death I’d fall on my face. The heels were too tall, the outfit too short and way too tight. And the makeup was already itching.
But at least there was no one on this planet who would recognize me. I couldn’t recognize myself. I almost looked like a fairy princess. Well, maybe that was stretching it a little bit. What the costume did allow was for me to hide behind the look, pretending I was someone else.
A hard knock on the door forced me to jump. It was time. My visitor didn’t wait to come inside, parading into the room with another closing the door behind him. And I assumed guarding the visitor with his life.
Maybe I had seen too many thriller movies.
The man was older, his gray hair neatly trimmed, his eyes hardened, but after giving me a scrutinizing onceover, his features softened, at least enough that I didn’t think he was planning on tossing me out.
He was wearing a suit like everyone else I’d seen so far, only I could tell he was a man of authority.
“You’ll do,” he said in a quiet voice, wasting no energy in providing additional feedback.
Call it nerves, but I wasn’t thrilled with the reception. “I do so like to please.” The words were dripping in sarcasm, which prompted him to smile.
He shook his head, laughing while rubbing a fat finger across his lip. “Correction, you’ll do very well. The men prefer spunk over pageantry. Something for you to keep in mind.”
“Well, at least that’s something I have in spades.” My skin continued to itch, but more from being treated as an object.
“I’m Patrick Kilborn, the manager of this illustrious club. I understand you’re Saige. You come highly recommended and I don’t like disappointment.”
“Oh, I aim to please.”
“Good girl. Now, while I understand you’re friends with Tawny and she probably already told you this, I’ll tell you what I say to all the girls. What happens here stays here.”
“Like in Vegas.”
His eyebrow shot up. “You could say that, although this club is currently filled with men of power and as such, they will not tolerate their choice in activities or proclivities to be criticized. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Look the other way.”
He finally grinned. “Excellent. You do understand. What I also need to tell you is that the fights are used to settle disagreements.”
“O-kay. So the contestants aren’t merely fighters.”
“Oh, they’re fighters, but not on the scale that you might be thinking.
To get to this point and to be selected is both an honor and a responsibility.
It is also life changing for some. Money changes hands.
Sometimes violence erupts because when you cram four hundred men in a space meant for less than two hundred, tempers can fly. ”
“I think I get it.”
When he took a step closer, I had the instinct to run away and not look back. “As I’m certain you understand, with every powerful regime, there are those who insist on challenging authority. In this world, they aren’t simply let go. They are punished. Do you get what I’m saying, Saige?”
If he was trying to frighten me, he was doing a damn good job. “I’m still on board with what you’re saying.”
“A very intelligent woman. I like that. I can’t stand to repeat myself. That usually makes me highly cranky.” He held out an envelope, nodding as he waited for me to take it from him.
Which I did, easily able to tell he was paying me in cash as promised.
The verbal message was clear. Don’t pay attention to anything around me and keep my mouth shut when I left. “If this is a good mood, I certainly wouldn’t want to see you cranky.”
His laugh was a little too practiced. “You’re a very beautiful girl. You could go far in this club and I assure you that there is potential for you to move up. Keep your nose clean and I will use you again.”
At this point, I wasn’t going to break the bad news I would never do this again. I smiled and nodded like all good girls should do.
“Alright. Mark is outside. He’ll give you the cards and help you get through the crowd.
If anyone touches you inappropriately, Mark will be your contact.
He won’t hesitate to toss the motherfucker out on his ass.
I won’t tolerate the girls being pawed like animals.
Anyone who walks into this club knows the rules. ”
With a sigh of relief, I nodded.
“The fights are quick with fifteen minutes in between. No one is allowed in the basement. I don’t care how much money they promise you.” He headed to the door, completely dismissing me. I guess I wasn’t allowed to ask questions.
“Don’t worry about that.”
With his hand on the doorknob, he tilted his head until I was able to see the side of his face. “Keep smiling even through the blood, sweat, and cracking bones.”
I envisioned my mouth had dropped wide open. For a girl from Iowa, I wasn’t used to such frankness. Even my older brother, while a pain in the ass, wasn’t that crude. Maybe the cash would come in handy. My mother’s phone call continued to weigh on my mind. Attorneys were way too costly.
Another chill settled into my system as he walked out, Mark instantly leering at me, but he quickly averted his eyes. I had a feeling he’d received a similar if not more stern talk when he’d been hired.
Within a couple of minutes, he was guiding me down a long hallway and the more steps I walked, the louder the crowd became. He led me up a set of stairs toward the event. My stomach was in knots, my mind a fuzzy mess of trying to figure out how I’d been talked into this nightmare.
There was a pathway that led from the hallway into the massive room. However, with lights coming from every direction, spinning around as if announcing a celebrity, it was difficult to see much of anything.
But I felt the crowd of men, all four hundred of them crowding the velvet ropes, already pumped for the first fight.
As soon as I stepped from the hallway onto the main floor, whistles came from every direction, heated bodies moving as close to where I was being guided to the platform in the middle of the room.
The walls were black and with no windows, if there was a fire, people could be trampled within minutes. However, I knew there had to be a private entrance other than the stairs I’d come down. They’d been employee stairs.
Electricity sparked the air, the surge of energy unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. My heart was pumping in time to the heavy drumbeat, my pulse already skyrocketing. I clung to the cards in my hands as if a lifeline. Honestly, I had no idea if I could even go through with this.
I was the quiet girl, the one who wasn’t interested in going out to clubs. Tawny owed me big time.
At least where I stood waiting for my job to begin was protected. No one could get to me unless they started a stampede and there was no mistaking that the men in the room who were working for Strike Zone were heavily armed. They didn’t bother trying to hide it.
Maybe the visual was enough of a deterrent.
I couldn’t move and didn’t want to pay any attention to what was going on, but Tawny had described the customers accurately. They appeared wealthy with money to burn.
Less than five minutes passed and the first two fighters were announced. The roar of the crowd was wild, men screaming at the top of their lungs, money flying from one side of the ring to the other.