Faith: Biker Romance (The Virtues Book 2) (18 page)

BOOK: Faith: Biker Romance (The Virtues Book 2)
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I straightened back up and made my way back down the runway. Looking out past the stage lights, I saw some of my co-workers. Angel, whose real name was Stacy, was serving drinks tonight. She was recovering from a pulled hamstring and needed a few nights off the stage. Heaven, her actual name, was behind the bar, pouring a line of shots for a group that had just come into the club.

I looked down at the men gathered around the runway, and that’s when I spotted him. The routine already had my heart racing, but seeing him almost made me lose control. My eyes widened for a split second before turning back into the Kitty Kat eyes I’d perfected on stage. My heart, on the other hand, that wasn't as easy to control.

Changing up the routine, I headed back to the curtains, shaking my chest to the words that Axl Rose was singing. Near the door to backstage, our DJ booth sat bathed in red lights. Calvin was manning the tunes, but he was also the dancers’ liaison. Any problems went to him. He was also one hell of a bouncer.

Grabbing onto the railing, I leaned forward, letting my heels slide on the slick surface. As I spread my legs and sank to an almost horizontal stance, I yelled to him. Through the pounding music, he’d barely be able to hear me.

“He’s back, Cal. Halfway down the runway, the Kings t-shirt.” I nudged in the direction with my head, frustrated at myself for my own stupid mistake.

Calvin looked over towards the crowd. He pulled the headphones all the way off his head and leaned forward. I had to get back to the crowd, my song was nearly over.

I could hear Axl sing, “It’s gonna bring you down,” and I decided I had to go for a big finish. It would get me at the front of the stage to collect my cash, and make up for disappearing briefly.

As Axl gave his last rockin’ “Huh” to end the song, I ran down the runway, dropping to my knees and sliding towards the pole. It faded as the audience went crazy. I stopped with the pole between my legs, not three inches from slamming me right in the cookie. A bit of luck and alot of practice.

As I leaned back, panting in the darkness of the stage. I grasped at the money that had been thrown onto the stage. The club was busy, even for a Saturday, and I’d take home nearly seven hundred dollars if things kept up. Five hundred from my three featured dances, and a few bucks from lap dances here and there. It should have put me at ease. Rent was due soon, and I had bills piling up. I was anything but at ease, though.

I heard Calvin’s voice, and I reached out for the last of the bills as he talked me offstage, “That was Charity. Remember, guys, give generously. Stick around, because in just a few minutes, Heaven is going to be coming around with some shots. Them shits is gonna be cheap as hell!”

By the time he finished up and threw on some Poison, I was backstage, pulling off the stilettos and running for the back office. I had to talk to Leonard. I expected messages on my phone when I got back to my locker. It didn’t matter how many times I changed my number, Jason always found out.

With the ridiculous shoes off my feet, I padded down the hallway to the manager’s door. It was half open, and I saw Leonard leaning over a book. He’d be planning out the schedule for the next week. As much as I needed to tell him, I stopped for a second. I’d already caused trouble with my ex before.

The last time I had to tell Leonard, I was off the schedule for two weeks. No explanation, no warning, no nothing. The bills all went on the credit card, and I had to pull everything else together for the rent. I stood outside his office with that thought in my head. If Leonard wasn’t in a forgiving mood, my estimated seven hundred bucks might have to carry me for another two weeks.

With a silent sigh, I headed back to the dressing room. I was going to have to figured Jason out on my own. Calvin would make sure Jason was thrown out of the club for the rest of the night, and he wouldn't tell the boss about it. That was just one night, though. He’d be back. He
always
came back.

***

I walked into the dressing room. One wall was lined with mirrors, lights surrounding each one. The other side of the room was lockers. Each dancer had two to accommodate all our different outfits. I had between eight and ten different changes of clothes in mine. Despite how skimpy most of them were, they sure took up plenty of room.

Ellen was putting on some eye shadow when I came in. “Hey, Jazmine,” I said, heading back to my locker to fish out my phone. As a rule, we tended to stick with the stage names while we were still on the clock. Every single one of us had dealt with a stalker or creepy customer at one point in our lives, and we never risked someone overhearing our real names.

“Charity, you are raking it in tonight! How many more stage dances are you doing?” She looked at me in the reflection, one of her eyes held open as she penciled around it.

I was distracted, digging through my bag for my phone, “Hmm? Oh, two more tonight, then I’m off.” I fished around past thongs, make-up cases, and costume jewelry, finally grasping at the phone. When I pulled it out, of course it was flashing notifications at me.

As I came back to the long table to sit down, she had her mouth open, sculpting her look with care, “Nice night. I’ve just got one on stage. Going to have to really work the crowd afterwards.”

Ellen wasn’t new, she just needed to work on her choreography. I’d offered to work with her twice, but she politely declined. I wouldn't ask a third time. She’d either learn or she wouldn’t.

I smiled at her, but I was distracted. My eyes were locked onto the phone. What had Jason said this time? “Yeah, big crowd, at least.” My conversation with Ellen was on autopilot. She must have noticed, because she stopped talking and looked at me until I realized. I turned up to her.

Ellen knew my words were just taking up space. She turned to me, “He’s not back, is he?” I nodded. “Oh, Charity, fuck that guy. Enough is enough. Leonard needs to know. We gotta do something.”
 

I knew she was right. Enough was enough, but it wasn’t that simple. It rarely ever was. “Jaz, if Leonard finds out, he’ll pull me from the weekend shifts. He doesn’t want trouble, especially with Jason.” I dropped the phone onto the counter and lowered my voice. “I need that money pretty badly. Calvin already kicked him out, so everything should be just fine.”

Ellen grabbed my hand and yanked it. She’d been through her own domestic issues, and it showed, “Just fine?” She pulled down her bra, exposing herself to me. The scar along the bottom of her breast was very apparent. “I thought things were just fine, too.”

Ellen’s boyfriend had attacked her with a pocket knife when she wouldn’t give him half of her earnings. He’d threatened to sell her for sex, and threatened her two small boys that lived with her mother. She was lucky to get out.

My eyes were glued on the scar. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I mean. Jason just gets a little depressed and misses me.”

She dropped my hand and covered her scar back up, “Yeah, Johnny missed me alot, too.”

Ellen went back to her make-up like I wasn't even there. She was mad, and it was understandable. It wasn’t as easy as just leaving. She put up with stalking and abuse for weeks before he got put away. I thought she was a brave woman for ever coming back to work, but she had two kids to support. I guess she felt safer with him behind bars, too.

Her eyeliner was done, and she glanced at the clock. “I’m on in just a few.” She stood, excitement in her hands as she straightened her clothes out. She turned back to me. “Charity, in all seriousness, this Jason problem isn’t going to go away until he does. I know you’re in a bind, but maybe you could find a strong and handsome benefactor to keep you safe?”

With that, she headed out the door, leaving me alone in the dressing room. Her words made me sit up straight in the chair. I turned my attention back to the mirror. I had been dealing with my ex for more than two months. Just when I thought he’d given up on me, I’d find a heart scratched into the side of my car or he’d show up at work. Enough was enough.
Something
had to be done.

Ellen was right. I was in a bind. I was going to have to find someone willing to help me out with my little problem. I laughed aloud in the dressing room. Little was a fucking joke. There was nothing little about my issue. Having a deranged and obsessive cop after you is no small problem.

Davida Lynn grew up reading everything she could get her hands on, including books she had to hide.
 
At nearly thirty, she has stories pouring from her fingertips.
 
She enjoys nothing more than letting a story unfold before her.
 
When Davida isn’t writing, she loves watching trashy TV, reading pulp fiction, and daydreaming about her next travel destination.

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