by Monica May
In typical Shelby style, she doesn’t hesitate, getting right to the point. “I have been volunteering at the battered woman’s shelter once a month, and today I met a young woman that would work well here. You told me you still needed a few more dancers, right?”
“Yeah, but I don’t need a crazy man coming here to start trouble. What’s her deal?”
“Her name is Sunny, and she’s not from around here. She’s not even from Louisiana so her crazy man shouldn’t be an issue; he has no idea where she is. The shelter asks all volunteers not to ask about their personal situation, but Sunny opened up to me. She was a stripper in the past until her boyfriend made her quit to become a waitress. Long story short, she doesn’t really want to strip, but if she could be one of your show girls, that would be great!”
“Shelby, Shelby, Shelby,” I say, shaking my head. She has no clue how this stuff works. This girl really does live under a rock. “While I'm trying to sell this place off as a high-class Burlesque show, it's still a strip club. All my girls will rotate from the stripper stage, as barely dressed show girls in the club room, and all will do equal time in the hanging bird cage in the sex room.” I say this with a stern look letting her know this is not an option. But she still doesn’t get it.
“Come on, can’t you make one exception? You do own the place, you know?”
“Hell no! Sorry, Shelby, I can’t do that, it’s all or nothing. If she wants to come by and see the place, she will understand this is not the typical trashy strip club she has worked at in the past. You have to understand, for the money I pay my girls, they have to do it all. And they have to be absolutely stunning, model-like beautiful. What does she look like?”
“Well, she’s a little banged up right now with an awful dye job, but even with all that, she is stunning. She has these emerald eyes that are like nothing you have ever seen.”
“Tell her to come by tomorrow at 11:00 a.m. and I will see what I can do. But I won’t promise you I will hire her.”
“That’s a deal, thanks. So when is the grand opening?”
As I tell her Thanksgiving night, she looks at me with a sour face crinkling her nose. Rock, I tell you, she lives under a rock.
“Why would you have a grand opening on a Thursday, and a holiday for that matter?”
“Because that’s one of the biggest club nights in the business.”
Her eyes grow wide as if she has learned something new. “Wow, I had no idea.”
With a shake of my head and a laugh, I say, “Imagine that.”
“You are mean, do you know that?” she says, laughing back at me.
I hesitate to ask, but I really would love to have her here on the Grand Opening. I’m not sure they will come after their sex room experience, but I ask anyway. “So you and Grant are coming, right?”
She shifts in her chair, looking down at the floor. “Come on, don’t wuss out on me. I need you here. This is a big deal for me.”
She looks up at me with kind eyes. She knows how much her friendship means to me. She was there for me when Phillip died like no other friend could have been.
“I will try my best to get the kids taken care of and see if Grant will go for it. You know he’s not hot about you having the sex room.”
“I know, but you two can stay on the club level. This club is different from Savannah’s Closet. Our main goal is not a sex club, it’s to have options. Come on, let me show you the VIP section we just finished putting together. I have a section for just the basketball crew.”
“I have to say I’m not sure Sunny will be ready in three weeks. I mean, her face is pretty bad. You know women don’t go to the shelter for shits and giggles. Her face is still a little swollen, her bruises are pretty dark, and she has a nasty cut on her lip.”
“Can the girl dance or not? Let her know the bruises are not a concern of mine. I have an ultimate set of tools called Carmella. She is the best makeup artist in New Orleans. I have a feeling I may not be able to keep her much longer; once the movie crews get wind of her talent, she will be gone with the wind. I intend on paying her nicely to urge her to stay, but I’m not sure I will be able to keep up with the Hollywood money that comes in when they’re filming in area. Make Sunny aware of the fact that this is a high-class establishment and that’s what I expect from my dancers and that is what I pay for.”
I pull Shelby by the arm and walk her down to the club level so she can see that it’s just a regular club on that floor.
“Wow, this is really chic. The red, black, and white color scheme is classic yet contemporary.” She turns to me, grasping my shoulders as she bounces up and down with excitement. “We really can hang out in this roped-off section and have our own little party? I will feel like a Kardashian, this is so cool.”
“So you think you can talk Grant into coming with you?”
“Yes, after seeing it for myself, I think I can manage it. I may be forced to hire a limo. He won’t say no to that.” We laugh, as we both know what will go on in the limo. Shelby and Grant have come a long way since their “Cyber Incident,” and I’m glad to see she's trying to break out of her shell.
Chapter 2
Sunny – Formerly known as Mary
I stand in the front of an old brick building, frozen in place. I feel a wave of terror wash over me as I realize I can’t do this. This is what put me in the very position I’m in today. Stripping in that hellhole is where I met Rex, where two years of bliss turned into a year of torture.
My mind flashes back to the good times with Rex, when he treasured me and cared about me—cared about my opinion, my dreams, and my future. Rex was so caring in the first two years. When my grandmother died, he had his motorcycle club The Flaming Dragons pay to bury her, and then he gave me a place to stay.
I stand out on the cobblestone street in a trance, tugging on the heart locket around my neck. This is the only thing I have left of my old life. It was my grandmother’s locket. Rex had it cleaned and repaired so she would be with me forever after she died. I have worn it every day since then. It's the only thing I took when I escaped him and the club.
Moving in with him and quitting the strip club was the biggest mistake of my life. I had nothing of my own, and working at the coffee shop barely afforded me enough money to buy decent clothes. I was trapped. Rex became the president of The Flaming Dragons and he changed. I will never forget the first day he hit me. I was so in love with him, and I never saw it coming. I didn’t grow up in an MC life; I had no clue what an old lady was much less what she was supposed to do and not do. We had been together for about a year, but I never went to the clubhouse or hung around with the other guys. Once I moved in with him, I was officially his old lady and was expected to show my face at the club. However, no one filled me in on the rules.
Nine months later
We are hanging out at a pig roast, and I question him about a run they are getting ready to make. He gives me a death stare and says, “Shut the fuck up, Mary, it’s none of your business.” He says it in front of all his brothers. I am pissed; he has never acted this way toward me before so I am shocked. I don’t respond to him at the moment and simply walk away as the anger is too intense for me to process. Once we get home, he blows up at me shouting and screaming about club rules and old lady stuff that makes no sense to me.
“What in the hell has gotten into you, Rex? I don’t know the first thing about being an old lady. I had no idea I couldn’t be myself. You didn’t have to be an asshole about it. I simply asked you where you were going and what you were doing.”
His eyes fill with so much rage it terrorizes me. He stalks toward me with determination. “I told you, I’m the president and no one questions me, no one! Especially my old lady. Did you forget the conversation we had before we went to the roast?”
He now stands directly in front of me and I can almost see the steam coming from his ears. I don’t know what came over me but the fear dissipates and my anger takes over. “No, I didn’t forget. But
you need to remember I’m not one of you brothers. I didn’t sign up for your little club.” And that does it. SMACK. I just hear the sound as the pain radiates across my face. I stumble back and fall onto the sofa, covering my face in defense. I feel blood running out of my nose as I sit looking up at him in shock and horror.
“You are my old lady, you are my property, property of the club. You became my property for life the day you got the club logo tattooed on your back.”
That statement enrages me. “I didn’t give you permission to put that tattoo on me,” I yell up at him. “In case you forgot, I was completely knocked out when your buddy branded me with your tattoo.”
“You know you wanted that tattoo, but you chickened out at the last minute so we took matters into our own hands. Doesn’t matter, you’re mine for life. You are the old lady of the president of The Flaming Dragons. I’m telling you now, don’t ever question me about club business not here and especially not at the club in front of my brothers. Do you understand me?”
As I shake my head in confirmation, I realize he must have knocked the sense right out of me because I keep at him. “Oh, I understand you alright. You don’t want me to question the illegal shit you all have been doing. I don’t like it and I don’t want to be a part of it.”
“Too bad you’re in for life,” he says with an evil smirk. How could I have fallen for him? He looks like the devil looking down at me as he towers over me with power.
“I’m not in for life, I didn’t marry you. I can leave whenever I want.” What in the hell is wrong with me? I know I should shut the hell up while he is acting this way, but I can’t help myself. I think he has to come back to me. I have to be able to bring him back to the way he was; this is not him.
He grabs me by my arm pulling me up off the sofa and pushing me up against the wall hard. He rips my sundress down the middle by the seam. “Mary, in our world, this tattoo right here,” he says, pushing his finger deep into my back over the ugly tattoo of a dragon spitting flames from its mouth with his name tattooed within the flames. “Turn your face to me, look at it,” he yells. I ignore him with my face still pressed against the wall and my eyes shut.
“No, I didn’t agree to that tattoo.”
He squeezes my face with his fingers turning it to him. “No, you didn’t, but it’s there. You’re mine and I’m going to mold you to be the old lady of a president. You understand me?”
At that point, I know he will hit me again if I don’t agree so I shake my head yes. The next day, I pack my clothes, and with the little money I had, I get on a bus and head anywhere but here. I take the first bus out of St. Louis. I have no family to run to. My mom died of cancer when I was little and I never knew my dad. My grandmother raised me and now she's gone. I have no one left but myself. The bus I jumped on is headed to Chicago. I hope the city is big enough to hide me from the other Flaming Dragons. My breath catches and my heart starts pounding when I realize they have a chapter in Chicago. Damn it, I should have headed south; there are no clubs south of the Mason Dixon line.
After four hours on this hot and smelly bus, it stops in a small town right outside of Chicago. The bus driver stands up to announce the bus is having some mechanical issues and we will be stuck in this town for four additional hours while we wait for a new bus to arrive. I have a knot in the pit of my stomach and can’t shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen; I just know it, but what? I try to steer clear of the creepy guy from the bus but the feeling increases. Two hours into our wait, the other shoe drops. I hear the roar of Harleys.
It's them. I know it in my heart. How in the hell did they find me here? Maybe it’s a coincidence? I turn and hurry into the gas station hoping they will ride by. But they don’t! I hear the engines stop right in front of the store. I see a group of them enter the store and that’s when I see The Flaming Dragons patch. My heart free falls into my stomach, and I know they are here for me. My feet are frozen; I have to get out of here. They are covering the exit, so I make a dash for the bathroom hoping there’s a back exit. I make the turn and see a Harley just outside the door through the dirty window. Damn it! I make a turn and rush into the women’s bathroom hoping they won’t come in due to the number of people around.
I am so wrong. I rush into a stall, lock the door, and put my feet up on the toilet when I hear the entry door fly open.
“Mary, I know you’re in here. Don’t you know you can’t hide from me?” I hear Rex’s voice. “We are only going to discuss this one time, woman. You are mine for life. Now if you want your life to end today, it will be here with me, but you will be with me when you take your last breath. Don’t you know how much I need you? You love me, Mary, I’m the only family you have,” he roars over the stall door.
I hear the bikes right outside the window. They have all moved from the front of the store to the back. How can I have been so stupid? Running to the back of the store means no one will even know I’m gone. With one powerful kick, the stall door is smashed open. Terror fills my chest and I can’t breathe. I can’t move, not even to look up at him.
“I will give you this one time. That’s it, just this one time considering you really didn’t know the rules, woman. I know I must have scared you when I hit you but know I don’t want to put my hands on you again. So please don’t make me. Just do as I say and don’t ask questions, and this will all work out. Okay, Mary, you get me?”
His tone is so matter of fact like I’m a possession and not person as if I have no feelings. I know I am trapped, no way out. His reach is too far for me. I have no place to run and no one to protect me. I sit crouched on the dirty toilet seat frozen in place and trembling. He takes one step to me and wipes the streaming tears from my face with his thumb. I shiver in disgust as he lifts my face to look at him.
“Don’t ever run from me again, Mary. I will find you no matter where you go. Do you understand that you are mine? Everything you own is mine and can be tracked by me. Now let’s go.”
He picks me up and I’m scared to death—scared to go with him and scared to fight. I can’t live the rest of my life with a man who thinks nothing of hitting me and treating me like an object. Boy was I stupid. Why couldn’t I see that getting involved with a member of an MC was bad news? I decide to let him take me because let’s face it, I have no other choice really. I will have to gain his trust before I can come up with a better plan to run.
Chapter 3
Sunny – Formerly known as Mary
I spend the next few weeks trying to act normal, as if nothing happened. I regain his trust enough for him to allow me to go back to work at the coffee shop. One day while washing clothes, I hear something hit the tile floor with a light clink. It sounds like change or maybe even an earring, so I bend down to find it. All the blood drains from my face when I see it. I had heard Tec talking about his new device they are using to track shipments. The scene replays in my mind crystal clear. “Dude, these things are groundbreaking in the computer world,” Tec told Rex as he held the little device between his fingertips. “They can get wet, withstand heat, and can be tracked across the globe. The only thing needed is a cell tower to pick up the signal.”
I recall that day like yesterday back when I was still trying to figure out what their shipments were. I now hold the same tiny object in my hand that Tec held up to Rex that day. I quickly pull the rest of the clothes from the washer trying to figure out where it came from. Maybe Rex had it in his pocket and forgot about it. “Holy shit! That son of a bitch,” I scream, throwing each piece of clothing out piece-by-piece only to discover it’s all my clothes in this batch. I pick up one piece to feel it carefully along all the seams. “Damn, it’s sewed right in the seam.” I go through each piece of clothing on the floor and find one shirt without a tracker and realize this is the one it fell from. I get up and run to my closet checking the rest of my clothes, and sure enough, everything I own, down to my panties and bra, has a tiny tracker placed in each and every piece.
&nbs
p; My knees give out and I hit the floor sobbing, “How am I going to get out of this hellhole called my life? He knows every freaking move I make.” I’m confident my movements are monitored on his cell phone if I know him. He told me that day in the gas station that everything I owned could be tracked by him. It just didn't register with me that he actually meant I am being TRACKED like a fucking animal. Feeling absolutely helpless, I bow my head into my hands and do the only thing I have left to do, pray. “God, please help me, I don’t deserve this. Please send me someone to help me get away from him. He will kill me soon.”
After a few moments of sobbing, I realize Rex will be home soon and I can’t let him know I know. Things have not been going well with the club and he has been in awful moods. From what I've heard by eavesdropping, the FBI is hot on their tail. I need to get out and soon. I shake it off and start picking up the clothes. I tell myself, “Suck it up girl get your shit together.” On my way out the door headed to work early in efforts to miss seeing Rex, I physically run into his hard, drunk body on the way out the door.
“Where you running off to in such a hurry?” he slurs.
“Work,” I say, quickly trying to brush past him.
He grabs me roughly by the arm. “It’s only five o'clock, your shift don’t start till seven, what’s the fucking hurry?”
“I thought I would help Cindy with the evening rush. Katy called in sick.”
“What about helping me out?” he says as he kisses down my neck. My stomach rolls from the smell of whiskey and cigarettes. I know he wants sex, and I’m tired of giving in to him.”
“I have to go, Rex, I will make it up to you when I get back, promise,” I say with the best fake smile I can muster. I try to walk away without making him angry. No such luck. His strong hands slam me up against the door so hard the doorknob puts a hole in the sheetrock. I hear a loud crack as my ribs collide with the door knocking the wind out of me.
