“Tillie. Look at me child.” Doris pulled my attention away from the woman sitting on a man’s lap, grinding on him as he played with her breasts.
I looked at Doris with wide eyes, feeling sweat coat the back of my neck. I felt sick. The basement stayed in the darkest part of my mind but any little thing could trigger my panic attacks. It’s been only a few months and yet it feels like it just happened yesterday. I kept my head down, stayed quiet, and did as I was told. It was the only thing that was helping me to survive and Doris being here for me. Payne saw me as weak and he left me alone for the most part, he didn’t think I was worth his time. He told everyone to leave me alone as long as I learned my place.
Apparently, he felt like dancing for strange men would keep me in place. He’s right. I’ll do anything at this point so I won’t have a repeat of being brutally… raped.
That word. Rape. That one word is hard to even think about. I fucking hate it.
It’s vile. A disease eating away at me. It’s just another word but to some, like me, it brings back every bad thing that was done to me.
“You can do this. Remember what I said. Those wings that are broken and hurting right now, it won’t always be that way. We have to start on the ground but we can make it to the top if we never give up. I’m going to show you how. Men can easily be controlled, it starts with that dick between their legs.” Doris nodded towards the black, glittery stage as a woman danced topless around a pole.
Men leaned forward in their seats, eyes never straying from her as she swirled slowly around the pole in almost a seductive way. They never noticed the one waitress going from table to table collecting drinks and her hand as she stole money from their pockets as she rubbed up against them.
I saw it all. My breath held for her because I thought she would get caught but not once did the men notice. All their attention was centered solely on the platform and the way the stripper’s body moved to the beat of the music.
I turned to Doris and gulped loudly, straightening my spine. I wanted that kind of power over men with a burning desire so hot it felt like my insides were on fire. I needed to be that woman who showed no fear. Who could wield control with her body. It’s all I had felt. I had to try.
“Show me.”
I remember the words leaving my mouth and the fond, yet proud smile Doris gave me. I didn’t know it at the time but she was right. She was teaching me that broken pieces can be put back together and come back stronger than ever.
“I’m not serving you alcohol. You shouldn’t be here and don’t even try to tell me you're twenty-one. I’ve been in this business a long time. Get outta here.” The raspy, chain-smoker voice startles me and has me swirling around to see an older lady behind the bar wiping down glasses.
“If I wanted a drink, I could have gone to the liquor store up the street. A flash of boobs in this part of town will get you just about anything, even under the drinking age,” I reply back with a shrug and lean against the bar as I stare her in the eyes, willing my startled heart to calm down.
“Forget it. I’m not hiring. I don’t need the cops at my place again.” She raises a brow, looking me up and down.
“I’m eighteen and I’m not looking for a job. I just want to dance for a little while. I’ll let you keep all the money I make too. The cops won’t be a problem, trust me.” I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes at the thought of the cops showing up here.
What are they going to do? I’m eighteen and I’m deep in Franco’s clutches just as they are. I hold back a shiver and wait for her to give me an answer as she finishes stacking drinking glasses behind the bar. She swings her towel over her shoulder and leans her elbows on the smooth, wood surface of the bar.
“Hundred percent of your profits and any tips. No sex in my club, got it? I recognize that look you have on your face right now, seen it plenty of times in my dancers eyes. Sometimes the thing we hate the most is all we know and a way to block out everything else. Get up there next song and leave when I say your time is up.” She nods and dismisses me without another word.
I don’t stick around for her to change her mind or for the next set for one of the girls to start before I can get up there. I head to the back of the dressing room, passing naked strippers as I stride towards a set of lockers and act like I belong here. Hell. I do belong in this strip club. It really is all I know. I chuck the motorcycle keys and my shoes in the locker, not even hesitating to unzip my pants. I’m not one for being shy about my body and don’t care who is staring at me. I ignore my phone going off like crazy and shut the locker without answering. I know it’s one of the guys and I’m not telling them where I’m at. Once I’m down to just my underwear, I yank my hair out of its ponytail and shake it out. Clad in only a red, lacy thong and matching bra that Dom bought me, I walk out of the room until I’m standing behind a black curtain.
The mutter of the men out there is low and the music loud, a seductive song to dance to beats through the strip club. A topless girl passes me and winks as she strides off stage while counting a handful of bills. The music changes to Rihanna’sPour it upand that tells me it’s my cue.
Standing on my toes, I part the curtain and walk slowly to the beat with a sway in my hips towards the pole while running my hands through my hair and down the curves of my body. Before I make it to the pole, I quickly drop to my knees and spin with my hands grazing the floor behind me. The position leaves my back arched, head tilted back as I lean farther back and I bounce my body up and down on the back of my heels while keeping my knees spread wide. I shake my hair out so it’s a wild mess of locks before dragging a finger down the center of my chest and end up moving my whole body forward to the stage floor. My chest presses into the floor as I slide slightly forward until my ass is sticking in the air. I slowly move my legs apart and end up in the splits. I can feel eyes on me and shouts from the center floor but I don’t look. I keep my eyes on the lights until it’s blinding and creates black dots to dance in my vision. I’m here to dance and forget, not to see greed in the eyes of men. Ignoring everything, I get to my hands and knees and crawl towards the pole with a few hair flips while my back is arched. Grabbing the cold metal, I grip it with both hands and slowly rise to my feet while leaning back and dropping halfway down before sliding back up with my whole body plastered to the pole. Doing a small spin around the pole with one leg wrapped around it, my muscles hold me up as I free my hands to lean all the way back until my hair is grazing the stage. Straightening up once more, I grip tight with both hands and jump while I flip upside down on the pole. My legs slowly spread until I’m doing a Jade, the splits in the air as I gaze down at the floor. All the blood rushes to my head and I stay like that for a few seconds before bending forward to wrap my right thigh around the pole. My other leg straightens in the air, skimming the pole and I twirl around the slippery metal with my hands free, sliding down inch by inch. I flip at the last second until my feet are touching the ground again. Taking a deep breath, I circle the pole while dancing to the beat of the new song playing
Thoughts of Rig fly through my mind as my body keeps moving on autopilot. For years, I thought Rig up and left me behind to get out of the club but I think I’ve been wrong this whole time. Once you're in, that’s it. You die on your bike servicing the club or you get taken out. I think in the pit of my gut I know deep down that he’s not alive. I think I’ve known since he first disappeared. He was the only one who ever treated me like I was a somebody. He taught me everything I needed to know, tuning up a car, helping with my homework, and offering advice when I needed it the most. He was always protecting me from the harshness of the club life. That whole time… he was treating me like his daughter. I just never knew that he was my father.
Why did he never tell me?!
My father.
I’m not sure how long I've been dancing up here or when I’m going to be kicked out. It leaves my muscles tight with the way I have to have a strong grip on the pole but it’s relaxing at the same time. Something I’m used to doing without a second thought, an easy escape.
At one point, I decide to leave the pole and move towards the front of the stage to collect more money for the owner who I’m pretty sure is the bartender. Most people might have just kicked me to the curb but she knew I needed this. It’s the least I can do for her. I haven't looked out at the small crowd the whole entire time I was up here but I think making some eye contact might help bring more dollars to the stage. The Weeknd starts playing and I find it’s easy to dance to his songs, they always feel seductive and exactly like sex.
Hot and sweaty. Rhythmic.
I don’t know why but men love it when you crawl to them. It always brought more money to the stage. It could be the submissive position or being on my knees but it works for me each and every time. At the edge of the stage, on my hands and knees, I lean back again and don’t stop until my back is sliding against the stage. Bringing my legs towards and spreading them wide open until they make the perfect V, I lean up on my elbows while looking forward.
I freeze at the sight before me, my breath stalling in my chest. I should have realized how quiet it’s been for a while. No more catcalls, hollers, just the music.
Fuck.
“Don’t stop on my account. Keep dancing,” Nicky says, leaning back in his seat and skimming his index finger back and forth over his lips as his emerald green eyes trail over my position.
