Sierra
Chapter thirteen
The strobe lights are on and he’s sitting across the room, his legs spread wide as he leans back on the couch with his arms along the back of it.
Making my way over to the music controller for the room, I select Buttons by the Pussycat Dolls.
The beat of the music hits and I take a deep breath, knowing I need to make it through the next thirty minutes.
Turning to face him, I see his lust filled eyes drinking up every inch of me.
I slowly make my way across the room, adding some extra sway in my hips as I do.
Once I reach him, I bend over, trailing my fingers down the length of his chest, and lean further into him.
“I need the payment first.” Knowing him well enough to know that the money won’t even put a dent in his pocket.
But I still hold on to the hope that he doesn’t have any cash on hand.
Since that’s the only form of payment we take for private dances, I wouldn’t have to dance for him.
“Of course, Lilac.” The way he lets my name linger on his lips makes me want to puke.
Standing back up away from him, he leans to the side and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket.
He fingers through the bills inside of it, pulling out two crisp one-hundred-dollar bills, and hands them to me.
Taking them quickly, I fold them up and slip them inside my G-string for later.
He pulls out three more bills and places them on the couch beside him, before slipping his wallet back into his pants.
“Thank you,” I tell him as I place my knee on the couch and straddle him. I place a hand on either side of him on the back of the couch and start grinding my body on top of him, focusing on not touching any part of my body near his crotch.
“Lilac, you are fucking exquisite. See the three hundred dollar bills I placed beside me? They are yours if you suck my dick. I want you on your knees in front of me, those pink pouty lips wrapped around my fat cock, as you suck me dry.” Before I can reply, he reaches out and grips me around the waist with one hand, grabbing hold of the skimpy top and ripping it to the side with the other, allowing my tits to pop out.
“Stop, you can’t do that!” I try to pull away, but his grip grows tighter.
He uses his strength to sling my body to the side, my back landing on the couch as he climbs on top of me.
Images of something similar flash through my mind, and I scream in panic.
Fear takes over as I struggle to break free from him.
The door to the room slams open and heavy footsteps rush across the room, just as the weight of the body on top of me disappears.
I hear a scuffle and more deep voices enter the room, talking so loudly I can’t make out what’s being said in my confused state.
Hands come down on my shoulders and I start screaming frantically, terrified he’s back to finish what he started.
I swing my arms out and kick my legs, not knowing if I’m hitting him, but trying to fight back any way that I can.
“Lilac, shhh babe, it’s me, Cyrus. You’re okay, calm down.
We got him and we’re going to call the cops so you can file a complaint. ”
Instantly, my foggy brain clears and I shoot my gaze around the room. I see that Rico and Peter both have a grip on his arms, holding him in place. My eyes meet Rico’s and I immediately know he understands what I’m thinking. “No cops. I’m not filing a report. Just ban him from the club.”
“What the fuck! Hell no, Lilac, he attacked you! You can’t let him get away with it,” Cyrus demands angrily, but I can’t figure out if it’s with me or him.
“It’s my choice and I don’t want to. Just ban him. I’m okay, he didn’t do anything. You stopped him in time.” I pull back from Cyrus, removing his hold on my shoulders as I place my breasts back into my top, now realizing I’ve left them on display for everyone.
“Li…” he begins, but Rico immediately cuts him off, warranting a death glare from Cyrus.
“She said she’s okay. Drop it. If she doesn’t want to charge him, we can’t, but he has earned himself a lifetime banishment from this establishment. Peter, help him outside and make sure that Sal knows.”
Cyrus gives me one last pleading look, begging me to press charges.
He just doesn’t understand why I can’t. One, he would know who I really am, and I can’t risk Rico getting in trouble for having me working here underage.
When he realizes I’m not going to change my mind, he turns and storms over to my assailant, gripping him by the arm.
Helping Peter all but drag him from the room.
Once they’re gone, Rico shuts the door before moving over and turning off the music.
“Sure, you’re okay, kid? You can go home if you like.
I can get Cyrus to take you. The night’s almost over, anyway.
” His eyes catch on the money on the couch.
He walks over to it, picks it up, and gives it to me.
“You earned this. Go get changed, Cyrus is taking you home whether you like it or not.” He turns and heads toward the door.
Grabbing the handle, he looks back at me.
“If you don’t feel up to working tomorrow, just let me know.
It won’t be a problem.” Opening the door, he steps out into the hallway, leaving me alone in the room.
I allow myself the time to process what happened here. How it gave me flashbacks to the night I can’t remember, one where my innocence was stolen. It took me a long time to come to terms with not knowing who did it, only to have all those questions arise again. Do I even want to know, though?
Standing slowly, I exit the room and head for the dressing room, keeping a distance between myself and the patrons.
I pretend to not notice the group celebrating the bachelor party waving frantically, trying to gain my attention.
Instead, I tap Jasmine on the shoulder and point in their direction.
A huge smile crosses her face as she saunters seductively over to them.
No one is in the dressing room when I get there and instead of changing out of the lingerie set I’m in, I kick off my heels and pull my jeans and sweatshirt on over it, before sitting down to slip my Converse on and tie them. I know Rico said Cyrus was taking me home, but I plan to order an Uber.
I’ve just gotten my shoes on and am in the process of standing up, pulling the strap of my bag up on my shoulder when Cyrus storms into the room. “Ready?” he growls out, the sound sending shivers down my spine. It still pisses me off, though.
“I can get an Uber, you don’t need to take me!
” I bite out angrily. How dare he be mad at me!
I never asked him to take me home. That was all fucking Rico.
If he wants to be pissed at someone, he needs to direct it to the right person.
Tired of dealing with him and his attitude, I head toward the door, not saying another word.
“Lilac,” he calls out. “Please stop. I’m not mad about taking you home.
Did you forget I offer practically every night we work together?
I’m angry that you’re letting that jackass get away with what he tried to do.
Instead of pressing charges, you let him walk out of here scot-free, with absolutely no repercussions.
” He sighs as he reaches up and runs his hands through his long, wavy chocolate hair.
“I get it, but I had my reasons, ones that I’m not willing to share at the moment. So believe me or not, it’s up to you. But I’m fine. Regardless, Rico banned him from the club, so it’s not like I have to deal with him again.”
I stare at him, waiting for his response, but he doesn’t say anything.
He just tips his head back and stares at the ceiling for a moment.
He finally huffs, “Fine,” before crossing the room to me, taking my bag off my shoulder, and slipping the strap on his.
“Well, let’s get you home so you can get some rest. And don’t try that Uber crap with me.
I’m under strict orders from the boss man to deliver you safely to your doorstep. ”
Finally giving in, I walk alongside him as we head out to the parking lot. Stepping out the door under the awning, I realize it’s pouring cats and dogs. That’s just great. “Wait here, I’m going to run and get the car and pull it up here,” Cyrus tells me before running out into the rain.
A few minutes later, he pulls up in his jet-black Jeep Cherokee, jumping out once again in the rain to open the door for me. Honestly, I didn’t think chivalrous men still existed.
He shuts my door once I’m inside and runs back to his side, climbing in, now completely soaked.
He leans over toward me, and reaches into the back seat, rummaging through a gym bag, before pulling out a towel and trying to dry off some.
Once he’s as dry as he’s going to get, he tosses it into the back seat and turns to me with a goofy ass grin.
Finally, not able to take it anymore, I laugh out, “What?”
“Umm, I need an address. You’ve kept that secret locked up like Fort Knox and I don’t have a magic ball to tell me where it is, so it’s up to you,” he says in a very tongue-in-cheek tone.
“Sorry, it’s 1235 Wilshire Street.” I look down at my hands as I nervously pick at my nails. “Just, umm…” I pause, afraid to finish.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, as he reaches out and covers my hands, stopping my nervous picking.
“It’s- well, it’s just not a great neighborhood, and I don’t want you to judge me, like everyone else.”
He turns in his seat, facing me. “Look at me, Lilac, which honestly I hope one day you trust me enough to give me your real name, but we’ll talk about that another day.
Listen to me when I say this, I don’t give a shit where you live.
It wouldn’t matter to me if you lived in a mansion or a tent in the woods.
Where you live doesn’t make you who you are.
Anyone who judges you based on that is pure trash and not anyone you need to give any thought to because they’re not worth it. Do you hear me?”
I just nod and turn to look out the window, sneaking my hand up to wipe away the tears as he pulls out of the parking lot.
He turns the radio on and one of my favorite songs is playing, Walk Me Home by Pink, and I begin singing it in my head.
I don’t realize until we pull up outside of my apartment building that he never let go of my hand.
“So now that I know where you live, do I get the apartment number or do I have to work for that?” He laughs, winking at me.
“Why would you want to know that?”
“Well, I might want to come and see you or ask you out. Hell, I might even want to send you flowers, you never know.” He flashes a shy smile that breaks right through the rough exterior I’ve built up.
I pause for a moment as I debate. But he’s been nothing but kind to me.
Taking a chance, I tell him. “It’s number 306.
” Opening the door to the jeep, I make sure I have my bag in hand and step out onto the sidewalk.
But before shutting it, I lean inside one more time, laying my trust in him on the line. “My name is Sierra.”
Shutting the door, I hurry inside the building, not even waiting for his response. Once inside, I look out the window to see a smile on his face as he waves goodbye and pulls off from the sidewalk.
Climbing the stairs, there’s a happiness in my heart that hasn’t been there for a while.
Not since Wesley. What I don’t expect when I unlock the door and step inside the apartment is to find it destroyed.
The cushions are off the couch, pictures from the wall are smashed on the floor, the coffee table is flipped over, and my mail is scattered all over the floor.
Looking into the kitchen, I see all the drawers and cabinets are open and instantly I know what happened.
Tornado Sarah had made her touchdown and ripped through our tiny apartment, causing carnage in every room she stepped into.
I slowly make my way down the hall, knowing as soon as I step into my room that my hiding place was found.
Fuck my life!
Just when I finally made the decision to go to the bank to ask about opening an account. I’d always assumed I would need a parent or guardian, so I hadn’t yet. Guess this just gave me the push to find out.
I should’ve gone right to bed, but instead, I spent the next three hours putting stuff back where it belonged and cleaning up the broken glass from the few pictures in the living room.
Finally, once everything is back in its place, I crawl into bed. Trying to put it out of my mind that Aunt Sarah stole every bit of money I’d saved, royally screwing me, I let the darkness overtake me as nightmares of a faceless man assaulting me ravage my dreams.