by M. O. McLeod
“I’m not going in,” Chelsea said. She folded her arms across her chest and wouldn’t budge from the SUV.
“It’ll be fun—a chance for us all to be together, away from everything for a while,” Kurma sweet-talked.
“I don’t want all of us to be together unless it’s everybody!” Chelsea screamed. “I want Nina, and I want April back.” She kicked the back of the front seat with her foot.
Kurma closed the door so the people on the street wouldn’t hear Chelsea’s fit. “Who started this tantrum crybaby stuff?”
“Nina did,” said Jackie. She rested on a nearby fire hydrant and was ready to go. “Just let Chelsea stay in the truck for a minute and cool off. We can come get her later.”
Kurma didn’t like the idea of leaving Chelsea by herself. What if she ran off? Then Kurma would be another Raptor short. She began to protest, but O’bellaDonna stopped her.
“If she doesn’t want to come then we can’t make her,” she said. “Plus Chelsea isn’t going anywhere without someone holding her hand. I say we all go in and have a good time while she stays bitter and cries herself to sleep.”
O’bellaDonna led the girls past the yellow line that roped off the Flora Plume Club. There was a massive line filled with girls and guys all dressed to impress. Kurma had never been to a club and didn’t know how she would get in without her ID. And even if she did have it, she wasn’t even eighteen yet.
O’bellaDonna had everything covered. She was working her pink dress, and her heels gave her extra inches over the door host. She flashed a smile and placed her plump chest in front of the guy’s face. He didn’t even hear what she was saying; he couldn’t stop staring at her body.
O’bellaDonna pointed her finger at a random name on his clipboard and waited for him to catch the hint. He smiled and moved aside as he opened the rope for the girls to pass through. The crowd erupted into boos and complaints. O’bellaDonna just sashayed on through, switching her hips to the tunes inside the club.
Inside the Flora Plume Club a mix of salsa, club, dub step, hip-hop, and techno beats played. Kurma had never seen anything like it. The entrance was wide and jam-packed as the girls made their way into the first-floor grand room. There were stairs on both sides leading up to different themed quarters.
Thousands of people moved to the music as the girls stepped onto the dance floor. Kurma saw several screens projecting all the actions of the upstairs rooms. A machine up high blasted bubbles that fell lightly onto the girls. Kurma looked up and smiled. Bats hung from the ceiling—real, live bats that flew up high and out the windows that ventilated the massive club. There were three wet bars on the main level with fluorescent lights hitting the dark floor around them. Two DJs stood on opposite sides of the club, battling each other with crazy beats. The crowd loved them. Laser lights beamed everywhere, and Kurma was scared to death when a gust of cold wind blew pass her face.
“It’s only mist, girl,” O’bellaDonna screamed over the music. She smiled at Kurma’s reaction and bumped her head to the beat as she looked for the bar. “Let’s go get that drink,” she yelled. She didn’t think Kurma had heard her, so she pulled her arm. Kurma grabbed Rimselda, who grabbed Jackie, and the girls marched single file up to the bar.
The girls people-watched as the night began. Jackie was sipping her Mai tai when someone groped her from the back. She turned around and came face to face with her boss, Mr. McGrady, a spiffy old guy who had his hands in everything that was illegal. If he was here, Jackie knew she was going to have a good night.
“Jacquiline, you doll baby you!” McGrady screamed over the music. He tried to grope the front of her jacket, but she playfully pushed him off.
Jackie smiled at her boss and tried to introduce the girls but was distracted by his bodyguards.
“They’re with me. Never mind them,” said McGrady when he saw Jackie’s facial expression. He excused the two guards and moved closer to her. He had always liked her. She was young and pretty, had a nice shape, was slicker than chicken grease when it came to cars, and never snitched him out. She’d worked for him for the past four years, since she was fifteen.
“I have a table upstairs in the Gold Room,” he said. “Tell your friends to come join me up there.”
Jackie nodded. “Do you have wristbands for us?”
“Wristbands? What the hell would I look like walking around with one of those on my arm?” he asked. “Trust me, you hang with me, you can go anywhere in this club!”
Jackie knew how Mr. McGrady rolled: he was all about the high life, the fast life, the money and all the things that came with it. Mr. McGrady had a wife and two model girlfriends, and Jackie had just so happened to show up a year after he had settled down, otherwise she would have been one of his girls—a kept girl. She didn’t want to get to close because her work might have been affected, so she tried to keep the flirting to a minimum.
“Who’s your friend?” asked O’bellaDonna. She could smell money a mile away. She smiled at the old man, and Mr. McGrady smiled back.
Jackie could see where this was going, so she did the introductions. “O’bellaDonna, this is my boss, Mr. McGrady.”
O’bellaDonna placed her hand in his, and he kissed it softly. She was smitten by this old guy.
“Ladies, this way.” He directed the girls up to the third floor, where the crowd thinned out and the lights grew brighter. The Gold Room was sectioned off by opaque floors; Kurma could see two levels down. The seats in McGrady’s section were connected in a half square with a large table in the middle, with bottles and bottles of champagne and other alcohols chilling in tubs of ice. Half naked women, all tan and gorgeous, brought sparkling water and fresh juice. Kurma had never seen anything like it. Photographers came by and took pictures, and she shied away.
Mr. McGrady wasn’t having it, though. He pushed Kurma into an embrace and sat her in the middle of the couch, where all eyes were on the couple. O’bellaDonna cut her eyes at Kurma, and Kurma’s face heated up. She tried to excuse herself but Mr. McGrady wouldn’t let her go.
“I have all the prettiest girls of Alexandria here with me tonight!” he yelled over the house music. The roof of his mouth showed as he talked loud enough for everyone to hear. He pulled Jackie on the other side of him and gave her a sloppy kiss. She spilled her drink all over him and Kurma.
“Don’t worry, babes, by the end of the night we’ll all be smelling like the bottom of a bottle,” Mr. McGrady joked.
Kurma signaled O’bellaDonna to come and take her place. O’bellaDonna happily hurried over and sat down, and Kurma got up. She’d had enough of McGrady. He was fun, no doubt, but he was too much at the same time. Where did this old man get that kind of energy?
Kurma sat next to Rimselda, who was quietly sipping from a flute of Dom Perignon. The girls laughed with one another. They didn’t need a big scene to have fun; they enjoyed each other’s company without all of the hoopla. Kurma made herself a strong drink—a lot of clear liquor with a little orange juice. She wasn’t a drinker, but tonight seemed different. She was doing stuff she had never done before. Girls her age didn’t get to go to clubs like this and party with men like McGrady. She wanted to enjoy it and unwind for a bit. She drank her drink, joked with Rimselda, and lay back on the couch. There was no need to change into a Raptor or hurt anyone. She sort of wished she had this life minus all the bad things that had happened to her. But, she figured, she had to take the good with the bad.
Off to the side, Jackie put a white pill in her champagne, swirled the drink around, and downed it in one gulp. “Wooooo!” she screamed. She was ready to tear the night up. “Why are you girls sitting down?” she shouted over to Kurma and Rimselda. She stood up and started dancing to the music.
“Let’s show them how it’s done!” O’bellaDonna said as she stood up to join Jackie. The two girls went to the bigger VIP dance section and moved seductively
under the lava-red lights. McGrady watched O’bellaDonna, intrigued by her full hips and long legs.
Kurma smiled; at least they were having a good time and not outside crying in the car like Chelsea. She scanned the crowd with her Raptor eyes for fun, since she couldn’t dance. She hadn’t been born with rhythm like Jackie and O’bellaDonna. She was more of a two-step kind of girl, and that was after a drink or two.
As she took in the nightclub scene, she glanced over to an altercation that was happening by the stairs roping off McGrady’s section. The bouncer and a taller guy were exchanging words back and forth, and it seemed pretty heated. As the security guard tried to block the other guy’s entry, Kurma realized it was her younger brother, Inis.
Oh my God. Kurma heard her voice magnified in her head. She stood up so fast she knocked over her drink.
Rimselda felt liquid running down her leg at the same time Kurma rushed from the couch. She saw Kurma hurry over to the bouncers and a random guy who was trying to get in. Didn’t she know this was McGrady’s table and he could handle it? She looked at Jackie, who was still dancing with O’bellaDonna, both of them unaware. Mr. McGrady slid next to her, and she could smell his spiced cologne.
“You’re looking so sweet in that red dress, darling,” the old man crooned. “I could buy you two more just like it.”
Rimselda wasn’t paying attention. She had a bad history with older guys, mainly her father, and had no interest in getting involved with another.
Mr. McGrady put his arm around her shoulders and came close to her, rubbing his nose against her hair. “That red hair of yours reminds me of licorice in the summertime, how it gets sticky when you hold it for a while.” He giggled in her ear. He was coming on strong. The stronger the better, he thought. That way they could never forget him.
Rimselda cut her eyes at him and was about to throw her glass of champagne in his face, but someone had beaten her to the punch. A tall, thin girl dressed in sheer fabric stood in front of her with an empty glass. Rimselda felt the liquid splash all over her arm. McGrady, on the other hand, got the drink full in the face. Jackie pulled Rimselda up and guided her away from McGrady and his girlfriend. Rimselda turned to see the old guy dabbing his face with napkins as the skinny girl looked after her with heated eyes.
“Where did Kurma go?” Jackie asked.
“I don’t know. I saw her walk up to this guy, but then I was distracted by McGrady.”
Jackie laughed it off. “He’s an old-time player who can’t see the error in his ways and give up the chase. Let’s go to the bathroom and wash you off.” She felt how sticky Rimselda was and felt bad that she would smell like the bottom of a bottle by the end of the night.
The girls turned right and walked off to find the bathroom. They were so distracted they walked right by a disturbed Chelsea, who had made her way into the club. She had to tell them that something was going horribly wrong outside. She’d seen that what was coming for her looked like a riot and a charge of angry bodies.
