Chapter 21 Nelly
NELLY
One day ago…
[Almost present day]
Goodbye, Club Midnight
“Mister Grouse, we’re falling behind schedule.” The Beta who’d been keeping the door closed dropped his hand to the knob and opened the exit.
“Yes, yes. Let’s finish up here. Ms. Shaw, please lead the way to gather your belongings.” The man with the tablet waved a hand, inviting me to leave. But it wasn’t an invitation. It’s never an invitation if it comes with handcuffs.
I glanced one last time at Vince, searching for any sign of sympathy or reconsideration. He was shuffling papers, clearly ignoring me now. He’d already written me off. I felt something harden inside me.
"Fine," I said, lifting my chin. "Let's get this over with."
How do I get out of this? How do I fight a contract I signed?
Can’t be legal. There’s just no way… The words sounded hollow in my brain.
The two larger Betas sandwiched me as we left Vince’s office.
The man with the tablet and folder followed behind.
The trio was so calm, like they’d gone through these motions so many times before that they didn’t need to think.
They operated on autopilot as they stripped an Omega’s freedom.
Moving towards the changing room was an out of body experience.
My feet moved forward while my thoughts scattered in a thousand directions, searching for escape routes that didn't exist. The familiar corridor with its scuffed floors and exposed pipes overhead seemed suddenly alien—a passage in someone else's life, not mine.
How many times had I walked this way, anticipating the night ahead, counting potential tips in my head?
Now I was walking it for the last time, escorted like a prisoner to collect the remnants of yet another life that was being stripped away.
When we got to dancer’s dressing room, the frontmost Beta pushed its door open, then stood to the side.
The other two Eros minions moved to hover in the hallway leading to the club’s back exit.
My leaden legs carried me into the achingly familiar space which smelled of sweat and perfume and makeup.
Each step felt so heavy. Was this how normal people felt?
Did people who hadn’t been trained to be light on their feet, to fly across a stage, to spin as if suspended by strings always walk as if they wore ankle weights?
I inhaled deeply.
I wanted to remember the scent of this place.
It had become my home away from home. Once, I could not imagine this kind of life for me—hungry, perverted eyes watching my scantily clad body before their needful, sweaty fingers tossed money on stage. Now, I wanted this life. It was mine. Why did everything get taken from me?
There was nothing to grab here. No drawer to open for a stray lipstick or brush. I’d just wanted to see this space again. I’d just wanted to say goodbye.
When I walked out only holding the compact athletic bag I’d arrived with, the men looked confused. I didn’t explain, instead walking to the employee bathroom.
The scarred Beta followed close behind me, this time entering the bathroom instead of staying outside with the door opened. Maybe because the entrance led to a quick left turn down a short hall, which protected occupants from being seen when the door wasn’t closed.
Inside my locker were the mundane artifacts of my double life: a clean set of street clothes folded neatly on the upper shelf, a backup stage outfit, along with a spare pair of heels nested in the bottom of the metal cavity.
My touch-up makeup bag hung from a hook.
I grasped the book I’d been reading on my breaks first, a bookmark cutting halfway through.
A love story. I’d never want to finish the damn thing now.
I pulled down the photo of my grandparents I’d taped to the inside of the locker door.
It was a newer one, both of their faces covered in wrinkles.
Tears pricked my eyes when I looked at Grandpa’s face too long.
I was glad he wasn’t around to see me crash and burn yet again.
Quickly, I slipped the picture into the book for safe keeping.
“You’ve got five more minutes,” the Beta said gruffly.
Fresh rage flooded through me, but I had nowhere to direct it. Unzipping the duffel, I pushed the book inside. Then, I snatched everything out of the locker, piling it into my arms, and I stomped over to the trash can, tossing it all inside.
“There, are you happy?” I growled at him.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me if you take your shit or leave it here. They’ll probably burn it regardless.”
I didn’t know what that meant. Why would they destroy my things?
He was probably just being a jerk. As if on death row, I marched slowly out of the bathroom.
They directed me down the hall, towards the back entrance.
We pushed out into the fading sunlight. The alley looked as it always did, unchanged though everything had changed for me.
I was leaving Club Midnight, exiting the very same way I’d first arrived—in the back alley, looking hopeless.
The Betas were already marching towards a black SUV.
“Nelly, you’ll be okay!” A voice shouted to me, and I turned.
Crystal stood framed in the doorway at the top of the back stairs, her eyes wide and slow tears falling down her cheeks. I hadn’t taken her down with me. I felt good about that at least.
“Sure, I will.” I smiled sadly up at her. “I’m lucky after all.”
“Our very own Lucky Star,” she responded, voice cracking.
“I’ll call you,” I offered her a promise I didn’t know if I could keep.
For a moment, she looked like she might argue. Then her shoulders slumped slightly, defeat and concern warring in her expression.
"You better," she said finally, backing toward the door. Her eyes never left the men, memorizing their features. "I'll be waiting to hear from you."
As she disappeared back into the corridor, I felt a strange mixture of relief and abandonment. The last friendly face I might see for a long time was gone. I was truly alone now, with only my captors for company.
“Get in, Ms. Shaw,” the Beta with boxer ears commanded, gesturing impatiently for me to enter through the rear door he’d opened.
The SUV might as well be a funeral hearse, the dark innards of the vehicle Reaper coded.
I hesitated for just a moment, aware that each step took me further from the fresh life I'd fought to gain, and towards something unknown. Lingering sun warmed my face. I didn’t want to move.
I didn’t want to leave this alley. Getting in the vehicle felt tantamount to resigning my freedom for good.
"Ms. Shaw, please don’t make this hard on yourself." The man the other Betas had called Mister Grouse was sitting in the front passenger seat. His voice was harried, irritated. “You truly cannot imagine the trouble we’ve gone to lately to facilitate smooth product transitions.”
There was that damn word again.
Product.
I already hated it as much as lucky.
I shouldered my bag, swallowing the bitter response that rose in my throat.
“I’m ready.” The words tasted like ash, but I forced them out anyway.
Maybe if I appeared cooperative now, I might find an opportunity for resistance later.
I ducked into the SUV, sliding across cool leather.
The interior smelled of artificial pine and something antiseptic, as if the car was regularly cleaned of all human traces.
One bulky Beta slid in beside me, and another took the driver’s seat next to Mister Grouse.
No one spoke as the engine purred to life. No one needed to. The contract I'd signed had already said everything that mattered.
We pulled out of the lot and into Seattle traffic, joining the flow of afternoon commuters heading home to families, dinner plans, favorite shows.
All the mundane freedoms I'd taken for granted.
The city scrolled past the window like scenes from a life I was already forgetting.
Pike Place Market, where I bought flowers on paydays to brighten my apartment.
The corner coffee shop near work where the barista knew my order by heart now.
That one Italian restaurant with the very best Cacio e Pepe. Would I ever eat that again?
I closed my eyes against the sights. I didn’t want to see anything else I was losing.
The silence in the vehicle was choking, and anxiety flowed through every part of me.
I could feel my pulse in my fingertips, in my temples, in the hollow of my throat.
My breathing started coming quicker with each passing block.
I had to consciously force myself to slow down before I had a full-blown panic attack.
When I parted my lashes, Central District had faded away.
In its place was downtown. We were closing in on a modern spire of glass and steel.
I had to lean against the window and look up to see the top of the high rise. Eros.
The car slowed, turning into an underground parking garage.
A security gate lifted automatically as we approached.
Once parked, the Beta sitting beside me began sliding across the seat in my direction, forcing me to open my door and get out.
I clutched my bag to my chest like a shield and looked up at the concrete ceiling of the garage.
Somewhere above, beyond layers of building, the sky continued to exist. People walked freely. Life went on.
I was herded towards an elevator above which hung a sign marked "Intake Processing." It made my skin crawl. Clinical. Dehumanizing. Like I was a package being delivered rather than a person being taken against my will.
One of the Betas pushed the up arrow.
We didn’t have to wait.
The elevator was already at this level.
As if the very building knew the exact time of my arrival, and it was ready to swallow me whole.
We got in.
And we went up.
Further.
Higher.
Until I wondered if we’d explode out of the building’s top.