Chapter 20—Payton
“Tommy should be here in a few hours,” Dante says as he opens the door to the club for me. “These events don’t usually run much longer.”
I nod as I walk just ahead of him into the club. It’s not particularly busy yet, but it’s still early for a Thursday.
“He asked that you wait in his office so no one thinks you’re performing tonight.”
Another nod from me. I already expected as much.
I was more surprised that he wanted me to come back to the club and not his place.
And to be in his office, somewhere he made quite clear was off-limits to everyone else.
But if there’s anything I’ve pieced together about tonight, it’s that our arrangement is just between him and me.
And I’m more than willing to keep it that way.
I don’t care if people know I work at a strip club. Or even if they think I’m a stripper. Dancing is what I do. It’s who I am. Even if it’s different from what I thought I would become when I was younger.
But the debt? That I let it get that bad?
That I needed to seek the dark spots of the city to get help?
That’s the part I’m ashamed of. Especially if people ask why I don’t get a proper job, as I’ll have to admit I have no skills.
Zero. I’m the fairy princess with nothing to show for it.
Not even the crown. I have no abilities beyond dancing.
I have determination, but that can only get you so far.
You think I went to the Kings first? That even after I went to them, I didn’t try to find employment on my own, somewhere besides a strip club? I searched. Tried everything.
The few who were willing to take me on with zero experience were quick to tell me to try something else. Each one said they didn’t have the time to train someone as old as me on something as mundane as what they had. Never thought being twenty-one would be considered old.
The jobs were for teenagers with life skills.
I have none and am not a teen. Things I should know, I don’t.
I tried, I really did, but it wasn’t enough for the places I was looking at.
New York is a hard place to get a job as it is.
Apply for a job a million people can do, and they’ll pick the one who needs the least help.
I move quickly enough behind the bar and to the back stairs that Dante unlocked for me before ascending them solo.
He may have a key to get into the hallway, but not the stairs.
The top door is unlocked. The club isn’t closed for the night, and Dante has other things to do.
Babysitting me isn’t one of them. Nor is it necessary.
It’s not like I’m going to steal from Tommy. It would be pointless. If this is a test, I’ll pass it.
The office is already lit as I round the corner and find it empty.
The lights from the stage pull my attention, like they did the first time I was here.
There’s something about watching the people below without them seeing me.
I know they can’t, because I had zero knowledge of it myself.
And I, more than anyone, got close to the glass from the other side.
From the outside, it’s a mural. A painting of women in silhouette, posing in sexual positions, but nothing more than what’s happening on the stage. And with the stage, it’s more appealing since they’re real and can move. They’re real. Women who offer the possibility of going home with one of them.
Or so the clients think. They hope. Not that I’ve seen it happen, though I have heard about it.
Then again, when I leave this place, I usually keep my head down and don’t look around, though that’s more to make sure no one is following me or trying to hurt me.
What other people do is on them, not me, nor is it my concern.
Just as I hope that who I go home with is none of theirs.
Stepping back from the viewing window, I take in the rest of the room. Nothing’s changed since I was last here. Except that I’m alone.
I walk the room, overlooking the bar as I go.
I was never one to find the thrill in a drink.
Never was a focus for me. I came of age, but my focus was always on dance.
After my parents died, I thought about alcohol.
About drowning my sorrows as so many have done before me.
But I never could. I had things to do. The thought was pulled from me before I gave it half a second.
There are a few pictures on the walls, more silhouettes, but nothing too scandalous to draw anyone’s attention other than just noting they’re there.
The couches are empty, and the coffee table is cluttered. Tommy’s desk is open, tidy, but still has things on top of it. As if no one would dare touch it. Or he simply doesn’t care if they try.
I walk to the front and run my fingers along the edge.
Two stacks of cash lie beside the books he’d been looking at days ago.
Closed, but there. Within touching distance.
The urge to open them is too strong, and I slide my finger under one cover.
Line after line of numbers. Abbreviations on one side and calculations on the other.
What did he call it? Net profit? Is this about the club or something else? I flip through a few pages, but I can’t understand it.
At the sound of steps on the stairs, I close the book quickly. Fear of being caught looking at something I’m not meant to see has sweat coating my skin as I take a step away from the desk and watch the doorway for Tommy to show.
But he doesn’t.
Carl does.
“What are you doing?” he asks with a sneer as he looks me over quickly, then scans the rest of the area, seeing it’s just me and no one else.
“Tommy told me to wait here.” My voice is steadier than it’s ever been when talking to him.
Not sure if it’s because he’s no longer my boss or that I’m starting to not be afraid of everything in my life now that Tommy’s a part of it.
A small part, but enough for me to find courage when I usually shy away from anything close to danger.
His eyes narrow. “Did he now? Why?”
I shrug and take another step away from the desk.
Just the thought of him near me gives me hives.
I’ve seen less and less of him since Tommy started, and I’ve never been in the same room with him alone since that first interview.
He’s never gotten close to me again since he told me to dance for Tommy.
When he put his hands on me. Something I’ve managed not to freak out about but is silently there in the back of my mind.
I put my hands behind my back and grasp them together to stop them from shaking. My voice might be clear, but my heart is still beating a mile a minute, and my hands are proof of that.
Why is Carl up here?
Tommy made it seem as if this is his office. I assume Dante doesn’t even come up here, considering he just opened the door, told me to go up, and then shut it.
But maybe this is the office for the entire club and not just Tommy’s. Maybe. But something about this doesn’t seem right.
“He should be here soon.”
I’m not sure if it’s my words or the quiver in my voice that draws Carl’s eyes to me. Eyes that roam my entire body from head to toe. I haven’t taken off the outfit I was in tonight. The one I chose from the many that Tommy bought for me.
When I put it on, I had many expectations for tonight. He said it wasn’t a “private” event, but I still feared that he was going to have me perform. And he did, in a way, though one I never thought I was about to do.
To be myself. To stand by his side. To appear as something more than a performer, as a person with thoughts of my own.
He didn’t say as much, but he didn’t have me shy away from conversation either.
Not that I engaged in many, but if asked a question, I answered.
Most of them were about if Tommy and I were an item.
Something only the women of the night seemed to care about.
And other than his brothers, they were the only ones who spoke to me.
To be fair, they only spoke to other females as well.
I was just one of many. The men must have a thing about talking to women at those things.
Like they weren’t allowed to or just didn’t have any reason to do so.
I was fine with it. Especially since talking to men has never been my strong suit.
Something I don’t seem to struggle with as much when it’s with Tommy.
I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s because he’s the one who helped me after my attack. Or because he owns my debt, and it would be silly not to talk to my boss. A boss in more than one way to me.
“You two have been spending a lot of time together.” Carl hums as he takes a step toward me.
I react on instinct and move to put the couch between us.
“No more than the rest.” I don’t like how he continues to stare at my dress. Something that’s clearly out of my paycheck range.
“You need to lie better if you plan to stay in this business.” He stops behind the desk, then opens the book I was just looking at while stuffing some of the cash into his breast pocket.
“That’s not yours.” I don’t know why I feel that it’s okay for me to snoop, but when Carl does it, it seems as if it’s a betrayal to Tommy. Someone I trust and have become loyal to.
And why shouldn’t I? He’s done nothing to make me fear him. So far, it’s only my safety that he seems concerned about. And with that protection, I feel as if I owe him. And if he isn’t here to protect his things, then I’ll do it for him.
Again, despite that I just did the same thing.
“This doesn’t concern you, girl. I’m still a managing member in this building and my job is to review the books, as I’ve done before and will continue to do.” He glares but takes a step away from the desk.
And toward me.
“Remind me again, what is it you do?” he asks with a twist of his head.
I bite my lip, trying to delay the answer, wondering if it’s somehow a trick question. I know he knows what I do. I haven’t changed my title since he hired me.
“I… I perform.”
He snatches my wrist, faster than I expect, pulling me close so his entire body is flush against mine.
“That’s right.” He rubs his nose along my cheek as he wraps his arms around me, pinning mine to my sides. “So perform,” he whispers in my ear before licking the edge of my earlobe.
I react without thought and turn my head, knocking into him to push his mouth away. Hard. I close my eyes at the instant headache, but his yelp of pain makes it worth it.
Till I feel the smack along my face that’s so rough, I fall to the side, dropping onto a couch as I hold my face in pain. Agony that seems to be just the beginning as Carl’s weight falls on top of me, pressing me flat to the couch.
I scream as soon as my brain registers what’s happening, but I fear it’s too late. The strap holding my dress up falls away beneath Carl’s groping hands.
“Quit fighting me. You know you want this. You all want this.”
I push at his hands and shake my head. “No. Stop. Please.”
“You all say stop till you get what you want. You tell Tommy to stop? You tell him no when you were spreading it for him? That why he lets you up here? Think if I suck his cock he’d let me in his place? Huh? Why don’t you put that mouth to good use like a good bitch.”
I keep pushing at him, but he weighs too much, crushing me into the couch.
Tears are clouding my eyes as I try to push him off, his vile words echoing in my brain as his hands keep roaming over me.
I kick and scream, but it seems no one can hear me.
No one is coming to help me. This isn’t like last time, where the attack was just to get me out of the way so they could grab what they wanted.
I’m what Carl wants. Either because I never fell into line before or because Tommy and I got close in our own way. I don’t know why, and it doesn’t seem to matter. I just want it to end. To stop.
“Spread your legs, bitch.”
I keep them squeezed tight together, using everything I have to keep that part from being taken away from me.
He lets me get a good breath in while he shifts his weight off me, only to have it leave me in a rush as he punches me in the stomach.
While I fight to breathe, he pushes a knee between my legs and spreads them. The dress pulls till he grabs the slit and rips it higher, exposing me in every way.
I catch his evil smile as he leans down toward me once again, and I fight. I fight with everything I have left. Pushing. Kicking. Squeezing my thighs together. Wiggling away. Anything and everything.
I don’t even waste my breath on screaming for help. I tried that before and no one came. I use everything, damning the tears that obstruct my view. I don’t need to see to know where to fight off. I won’t give up. I won’t.
With one last try, I swing blindly, screaming with all my anguish and strength at him. Hoping to kill his hearing as I ram my palm into his ear.
He stills above me, either in pain or confusion at my actions, but I don’t hesitate. Grabbing the armrest behind my head, I drag my body out from under him, twisting around to use both hands to pull me away and over it.
When hard hands grab my hips and jerk me back, I cry out in anguish, fear coating my voice as I try again to stop what’s about to happen.
“You’ll pay for that, you whore.” He emphasizes his words with a jab to my ribs. Twice.
I try to curl in on myself as the pain radiates throughout my body, crying uncontrollably as it sinks in that this is really happening. That I can’t escape.
I feel him pull my ass back into him a second before I hear the sick jingle of his belt loosening.
“What the fuck?”
The shout from across the room has me looking up from the couch to the doorway.
I scream.
The weight on top of me disappears.
Tommy is standing in the doorway, gun in hand.
And Carl falls to the ground.