by Deja Voss
For once in my life, I have something that’s only mine. Something that makes only me happy. As long as nobody is getting hurt, I don’t see the harm.
I put myself together and walk out into the main room of the strip club. As I round the corner, I notice three men dressed in leather cuts with patches just like the tattoo on my mom’s hip standing there, talking to the girls. All three of them are muscular, really good-looking in their individual ways, definitely rough around the edges, their tattoos and shaggy beards make them look nothing like guys my age. These aren’t little boys. These are men. Badass biker men.
This is the kind of people who I’m going to take my clothes off of in front of? The thought excites me, stirring something in my core.
“Those guys are crazy, they fucking feed people to dogs!” the voice of that nasty biker back at the Wrath Room rings in my ears.
I don’t know why, but I’m not afraid. I’m intrigued.
“Brooks, this is Amber,” Esther says to the man with long blonde hair. His cut reads president. He must be their leader. He looks to be about my mother’s age. I’m sure if she’s around here, he has to know where she is. “What do you think?”
He doesn’t even look at me.
“You’re trying to trap me, aren’t you?” he asks her.
“God, you get smarter every day,” she teases, kissing him on the lips. “Amber, this is my husband, Brooks. If he even looks at you in a way that makes you uncomfortable, you are free to punch him in the dick. Or come and tell me.”
“I’d rather you just punch me in the dick,” he laughs. “Esther’s kinda scary.”
She purses her lips and shakes her head. “This is my older brother, Gavin, and my younger brother, Hank,” she says. They each shake my hand. “These guys help with security around here. You don’t have to ever worry about your safety.”
I’m not worried about my safety, to be honest. I don’t think anyone would mess with these guys. My virginity, that’s a totally different story. I’ve never been around men like this before. Something about them makes my uterus explode.
“Can you start Friday?” she asks. “We’re open Friday and Saturday, dusk til dawn. Dancer’s wage starts at fifty bucks an hour plus tips.”
“Holy shit,” I stammer. I’m one of the top paid instructors at my studio, and my income doesn’t even come near that. I hadn’t even been thinking about the money, but it seems like this job is going to change my life in more ways than one. “Do you care if I take these home so I can break them in?” I ask, holding up the leather boots.
“No problem. Where is home by the way? Are you a local?”
“It’s about three hours south.” They don’t need to know any more than that, just in case I come to my senses and decide I’m not coming back.
“In that fucking rust bucket parked out front?” the youngest of the men laughs. “I’m surprised that thing made it up the mountain to begin with.”
“Don’t judge, Goob,” Esther says. “That’s rude. We’ll make sure she’s taken care of soon enough. In the meantime, though, you’re more than welcome to stay in one of the apartments in the basement on weekends when you work. There’s quite a few girls from out of town who do that. They’re really nice, I swear. Get here a little bit early on Friday and we’ll get you set up.”
It’s crazy to me how kind these people are, how open, how willing they are to just let me into their place and offer to take care of me.
I can see why my mom decided to stay. Some people might say bikers like this are the scum of the earth, but to me, they’re tighter than most families I know. Definitely tighter than mine.
I say my goodbyes and Esther walks me out into the parking lot.
“I want you to know that if you change your mind, nobody is going to be mad at you. This is a serious life choice and I want you to make it for yourself. I know it sounds fun and glamorous, and the money is great, but being a dancer isn’t all sunshine and rainbows. You need to have a good long look in the mirror and weigh the pros and cons.”
“That means a lot to me,” I say.
“I would never push anyone into this career. It’s just not for everyone.” I can tell she’s being sincere, her green eyes sympathetic as she pulls me in for a hug. If anything, right this second, she feels like a big sister to me.
“I will seriously consider it, Esther. I really want to work here, though. I really like this place.” I mean it. Not only do I really like this place, but this is the only chance I have at getting answers about my past and hopefully finding my mother. I don’t know why, but I feel like she’s here with me right now. I even look around a little bit.
Esther slips me a business card. “This is our friend Tank’s shop,” she says. “If you have problems on the way home, you just call him and he’ll take care of you. We really do need to think about getting you a new car. Maybe an SUV. The roads get pretty bad in the winter up here.”
“Thanks,” I say. “I’ll see you on Friday?”
“Part of me hopes so. Another part of me wants to tell you to run while you still can,” she laughs.
I get in my car and pull out of the gravel parking lot and make my way down the mountain. I don’t know what happened back there, but I feel like a new woman. It’s not even dark out yet. If I don’t make any detours or stops, I’ll still have time to go see Mama in the nursing home before visiting hours are over.
Now that I know the truth, I need to look her in the eye.
I need to tell her that I’m going to find Ava, whether she likes it or not.
CHAPTER 10
“Y ou need anything for your retreat this weekend?” Aunt June asks. It’s Friday morning and we just left the nursing home. Mama didn’t even wake up while we were there, but I wanted to make sure I said goodbye to her before I left. Her health being the way that it is, I never know when it’s going to be the last time.
I drench my Belgian waffle in syrup while she watches in horror.
“There’s already strawberries and whipped cream on that. Are you trying to give yourself diabetes?”
“What?” I shrug. I probably shouldn’t be giving myself a food baby, being as tonight is the night where everything is going to be hanging out for everyone to see, but I have no idea what kind of food I’m going to get to eat this weekend. For all I know, they’re a bunch of vegans, and I don’t do vegetables.
“I got you snacks, and here’s a gas card,” she says, sliding a brown paper bag across the dinner table.
“You spoil me,” I say. I almost feel bad lying and telling her that I’m going on a yoga retreat this weekend, but it was the only way I was going to be able to pull this off. It’s not like I have friends that I’d just pick up and go camping with. The last time I went to a concert, I took her with me. Continuing education is about the only thing that gets me out of town, and since I opted out of conventional college, she’s always encouraging me to go learn as much as I can about my field.
I’m sure if she realized what kind of education I was getting myself into, though… well, she’d probably find a way to lock me in her house and scare me straight.
I’ve tried to talk myself out of this for the last three days, but the closer it gets, the more excited I get. I’ve been watching some tutorials on YouTube and practicing my dance moves in my living room in my underwear. I dragged the full-length mirror out of my bedroom so I could make sure I didn’t look like a total fool.
I’m not being cocky when I say that I don’t even kind of look like a fool. It’s the truth. Maybe I was born to be a stripper. I definitely have the moves, and even though I eat like a garbage disposal, my years of staying fit have definitely paid off.
We finish our breakfast and I hug her warmly as she walks me to the car. My bag is packed with the essentials, make-up, yoga pants, a toothbrush, and a couple books to read in my downtime.
“If anything happens, keep me posted,” I tell her. “I can be back in a few hours maximum.”
“Yo
u just go and enjoy yourself,” she says. “You deserve a little time off. It’s been a crazy week for you.”
It’s been hard not telling her exactly how crazy of a week it’s been. I’ve done my best to keep my lips zipped. All I told her was that I spent that afternoon driving around brainstorming and came up with nothing. I didn’t tell her where I ended up. I hate lying, but I know there’s no way she’d be comfortable with anything that happened that day.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, I turn on my raunchy rap mix I made just for the ride back to the mountain. It’s time for me to get in the zone. It’s time for my alter ego to come out and play. It’s time for me to officially pop my exotic dancer cherry. If this is what I have to do to find my mom, then I know it will all be worth it.
CHAPTER 11
I stand off the side of the stage, nervously pacing back and forth. I’m wearing a light pink silk robe to cover my scandalous mesh number and keep me warm while I wait for my turn to go onstage. The other girls have been fairly nice so far, helping me do my make-up so that it really pops, and the hot red lipstick and the way my eyebrows are colored in damn near black make me look like a movie star, in my opinion. Hey, I’m sure that’s how a lot of them got discovered. Maybe this whole stripper thing will just be a jumping off point for me.
“Hey, beautiful,” Olive says, stepping backstage. She’s balancing a tray of empty glasses in one hand and a single red rose in the other. “Great crowd tonight. One of the Sabers are getting married tomorrow, and their president loves throwing around money. You’re gonna make a killing.”
She hands me the rose, her smile kind. “This is for you. I know it’s not much, but I just wanted you to feel welcome. Good luck!”
She pulls me in for a hug with one arm. “You look amazing. You’re going to do great.”
I really like this chick. She has no reason to be kind to me, but ever since she met me, she’s gone out of her way to take me under her wing, introducing me to everyone and encouraging me.
“What are you doing back here, babe?” she says, scolding the tall dark-haired man as he sneaks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Girls only!”
“I just wanted to let you know I’m going to pick up Ethan from my mom’s and heading home.”
“Amber, this is my husband, Tank,” she says. He’s about as gorgeous as she is and I picture in my mind what it would be like going home to that every night. I’d probably never want to leave the bedroom.
“Holy shit,” he stammers as the front door swings open. Olive cranes her head and peeks out, and I have to, too.
“Who the fuck is that?” she says, wide-eyed, watching as the prospects who watch the door pat the man down. My jaw nearly drops when I catch a glimpse of this guy. He’s got arms the size of tree trunks, stretching his tight black t-shirt to the point of nearly ripping. His hair is dark with just a trace of gray on the sides, and his blue eyes… I’m afraid if I stare into them my clothes are going to fall off. He looks like sex and danger, and part of me just wants to run up to him and smell him. Maybe even lick him.
“All I have to say is if I were a virgin, I’d gladly hand myself over to that guy,” Olive giggles. “Holy Mother…”
“Olive, you’re married,” Tank says, shaking his head.
“I know, I know, I just bet that guy can fuck.”
“Olive, you’re married to me.”
“Oh babe,” she teases, pecking him on the lips, “I know you can fuck. I was just saying… for Amber.”
“That’s Micah,” Tank says.
“No…” she whispers.
“You’re up, baby girl,” the brunette with the short hair and huge boobs says, patting me on the ass as she leaves the stage. “Knock ’em dead!”
“You got this,” Olive says, squeezing my hand.
I know I do. The lights are bright, but I focus my gaze on that mysterious man, Micah. There might be a hundred people out there, but there’s only one that I’m dancing for, and I’m going to make sure he knows it.
I slide out of my robe, take a deep breath, and stand up tall. I purse my lips, and as soon as I walk out on the stage, the crowd starts to roar. I own this room. This is right where I belong. I try to make eye contact with him as I start to swing around the pole, but I nearly fall to my face when I see him pick up Esther off the ground and hug her. They disappear into the back before I can even unzip the top of my bodysuit.
Focus, I think. You’re not here for him.
The crowd goes nuts as I flip over into a handstand and start to do my splits in the air.
You’re here for you.
You’re here for your mom.
You’re here because this is your destiny.
CHAPTER 12
Micah:
I packed light for my trip back home. Just a backpack and some clothes, my pistol, and some cash, I don’t need an excuse to stay long. I don’t even know why I’m making this drive, and the closer I get to the mountains, the further out in the woods I drive, the more I feel like the life is being squeezed right out of me, as if my father has his hands around my throat.
I guess I just need to see it for myself. I need to know he’s actually gone and dead. Maybe then I’ll be able to move on with my life.
The sun is setting when I hit the bottom of the hill, and the sight of the mansion all lit up from below brings back memories of so many wild nights, all the parties, all the fights, all the times I was glad I was too fucked-up to remember what happened the night before. I don’t know if I can do this.
I’ve made it this far, though. I can’t turn back now. I need to see my family and I crave the closure. I wonder if they’ll even recognize me. I’m definitely not the scrawny little twenty-five-year-old I was all those years ago.
The gravel parking lot is jam-packed with bikes, and I can hear loud music blaring through the walls. Guys in cuts from gangs all across the state are standing around smoking cigarettes, chugging drinks from plastic cups. In the darkness, they all look familiar to me.
There’s a big neon sign lit up and hanging above the door, “Gingerbread Ranch” it reads, the Mountain Misfits Flag hanging below it. I’m intrigued. This used to be my dad’s house, the house I grew up in, as well as the clubhouse. Now, it looks like a brothel or something.
As soon as I open the door and walk inside, I get shook down by a couple of baby-faced goons wearing prospect patches.
“Who are you with,” the one kid asks. He’s built like a bulldog, and I’m trying to take him seriously, but it’s hard, considering if he knew who I was, he wouldn’t be acting so rough and tough. I’ll play along though. I don’t need to make a scene.
“I’m with the Boden family,” I say. I guess I do look kind of out of place here. A lone wolf without a cut to tie me to anyone.
“Yeah, yeah,” the other one says, patting me up and down, looking for weapons I assume. “What’s in the bag?”
I look around, looking for somebody I know, and I’m impressed at the transformation of the place. The girls dancing on stage don’t look like your average dirty birdie. It looks like the gang found a legit side hustle.
“There’s a fifty-dollar cover, you know,” the kid says.
“Do you know where my sister is?” I ask, towering over him.
“I don’t know, is she a dancer or an escort?”
“Go get Esther,” I say, grabbing him by the arm just hard enough to let him know I’m not messing around. He looks up at me with defiance in his eyes before trudging off. I hope she’s not dancing here, and I’m praying she got out of the escort scene, but I can’t judge her either way. It’s not like it was exactly her choice to live this kind of life.
I wait with my hands in my pockets, the crowd cheering loudly over the music as a cute little bleach blonde in this black mesh bodysuit and thigh-high boots walks out on stage. She’s pretty. Way too pretty. My mind is probably playing tricks on me because there’s something about her that reminds me way too much of Ava. It
’s probably just this place. This place and the long drive. Everything is overwhelming right now, being back home for the first time in fifteen years and realizing that everything has changed.
“I thought he was fucking with me,” Esther says, standing there staring at me like she’s just seen a ghost. “I was going to take him out back and use him for target practice.”
My beautiful sister is all grown up. Her face is sad, frightened even, but her eyes are smiling. I don’t even know what to say. I’ve imagined this day so many times, but here and now, in reality, there aren’t words for what I’m feeling.
I grab her and pick her up in my arms, hugging her so tightly, afraid that if I let her go, she’ll disappear.
“Micah,” she cries out. “I don’t know if I want to kiss you or kill you. Where the fuck have you been?”
I set her down, trying to fight back the tears I feel forming in my eyes. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve cried in all forty years of my life. This isn’t like me.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I missed you. All of you.”
She swings back and punches me in the shoulder before bursting into tears. I wish I had some words to console her, but I probably deserved that punch.
“Fuck you, Micah,” she says, bursting out into laughter through her sobs. “I missed you, you asshole. That last time you called me, after you hung up, I was sure I was never going to see you again. I thought you died. Come on, everyone is going to shit when they see you.”
She grabs me by the hand and we walk through the crowd. I look over my shoulder at the girl on the stage, and I swear she’s staring right at me. She’s beautiful, that’s for sure, but something just isn’t right about her. Something about her makes me really uncomfortable.
“Do you like what we did with the place?” Esther asks. “Once we kicked the old man out, nobody wanted to live here anymore. Too many bad memories.”
