by Vivian Gray
By the time the third girl gets up there, I’m already bored, but the boys around me are just getting started. There’s a lot of hootin’ and hollerin’ for the girl that gets up next, and she does some kind of acrobatic act before the bidding starts. That seems to set the guys off. They go batshit crazy and start bidding like mad. She ends up going to a husky guy with a long beard and sunglasses.
Good riddance. Enjoy yourself, sweetheart.
The next girl gets up there, and my jaw almost hits the ground. She’s wearing a Catholic schoolgirl outfit, her panties just peeking out a bit so that it gives the hint of dirtiness. She does a seductive dance while the master of ceremonies is introducing her, complete with stripping off her jacket and revealing an ample set of tits underneath her sweater vest and white collared shirt.
This seems like an even bigger act. I think I’ve seen it in a music video before. The bidding starts at a grand, and there’s some back-and-forth for a good long while. It’s pretty disgusting, but then, what was I expecting? They get up to five grand pretty quickly, and then the bids start slowing down.
I can’t imagine how much cash guys have brought here. Me, I always travel with a lot of cash on me, but that’s only because, in my business, you have to carry, or you could find yourself up shit creek without a paddle. But these guys are starting to get up there – six grand, seven grand, eight grand.
The girl gets more and more excited as they approach nine G’s. She gets off the stage, and the emcee comes back out. I only now notice what he’s been wearing this whole time. The creep-o is decked out in what I can only describe as psychedelic carnival barker – he has a big floppy top-hat with the American flag colors on it, like something you’d get at a carnival, to go along with his white shirt and leather pants. It’s bizarre. Everything about this whole night is bizarre.
Marcelo must be one twisted dude to host a party like this. But it is what it is, and I’m here, so I start scanning the crowd again, seeing if I can see anybody who resembles the pictures I’ve seen of Marcelo.
At just that moment, the emcee announces he’s got a new girl coming out, and I turn out of morbid curiosity to see what’s going to come out of the back. What does is… incredible. While most of the girls tonight have been babydoll cute, this one is… hot. She’s got on black leather pants and a black shirt with her tits practically hanging out, and her hair is done up all messy and frizzy, but intentionally so, so she almost looks like a girl in an 80’s hard rock video.
I’m a sucker for that kind of thing. But what really sets her apart is her smile. She’s got this nervous but determined smile plastered to her face as she waves at the hollering crowd, and I’m transfixed. The girl, whoever she is, has got her hooks in me... and, apparently, in every other guy in the joint.
A hushed silence immediately after she comes out is followed by all kinds of whooping and stomping of feet. The guys really dig this girl, so she does a little twirl, almost like she’s embarrassed to be there, but it’s clear she wants it, just by the way she’s moving her hips. There’s no way in fuck she’s a virgin.
I watch as she struts her stuff on stage. She’s got a bangin’ body, a great ass, really great, big tits, and legs that go all the way down to the floor, especially in those tight-ass leather pants. But I keep coming back to the smile. It’s not any woman who can get me with her smile – I’m usually looking at other stuff.
This is something else.
Before I know what I’m doing, I’m up close to the stage, about one row of guys back. When the bidding starts, I look around at the guys doing the bidding. They’re all skeevy fucks. Probably all Tattooed Angels, too. But this kind of girl deserves better than that. I see them getting excited as the bidding starts going up – three G’s, four G’s, five G’s, all within the first minute.
A few of them start backing off after that, but two guys insist on going at each other, one trying to outbid the other. Six G’s… seven G’s… eight G’s. They’re still at each other by $8,500. And they both look like scumbags. One has a big spider web tattoo on his bald skull and looks to be missing a few teeth, probably from a bar fight. The other is a huge, chunky dude, his belly falling out over his jeans.
This girl deserves better. I feel like I’m possessed, out of control of my own body, when I suddenly stand up, out of nowhere, and look directly at the master of ceremonies.
“Ten thousand,” I say, raising the bid from nine grand.
Both guys look at me, staring hard, trying to suss out who in Christ’s name I am and what I’m doing there. In fact, I feel the eyes of every son of a bitch in the joint on me, as if they’re all just waiting for me to do something, or they can’t believe I’d be so bold, or something. I can’t believe I’ve just done that.
I realize instantly that I might have blown my cover. They might figure out I’m with the Savage Hearts. If that happens, they’ll know I’m there to spy on Marcelo – it only makes sense. They’re going to take me down, and one of these nasty-ass motherfuckers is gonna go off with this beautiful girl.
I can’t believe it, but neither can the emcee because he winks at me and says into the microphone, “Holy shit, boys, we have a ringer here up front! The bid is ten thousand dollars, gentlemen. Do I hear eleven? Eleven thousand?” He looks hopefully to the two guys in the back.
The tattooed guy shakes his head. The fat one looks like he’s thinking about bidding, and I hope to Christ he does because that would take me off the hook. But he doesn’t, finally shaking his own head and waving his hand with irritation.
“Okay then,” the emcee says, “how about ten-five? Ten thousand, five hundred dollars? C’mon, boys, tell me this hot piece of ass isn’t worth it?! Ten-five? No? Okay, ten thousand going once… ten thousand going twice… ten thousand it is, to the high roller up here! Congratulations! What’s your name?”
I have to think fast as he thrusts the microphone in my face. “Er… Mike,” I say quickly.
“Mike?” he asks suspiciously. “Well, fuck it, who cares? We’ve got more girls coming up, boys. Who’s ready to say hello to Jacinda?”
I don’t notice whoever the hell Jacinda is because, at that moment, I feel a tap on my shoulder. It’s some guy with a clipboard, beckoning me to follow him.
“Ten thousand, eh?” he says when we’re out of earshot of the emcee and his nasally, droning voice. “You must’ve really been inspired. Hey, what’d you say your name was?”
“Uh, Mike,” I tell him, doing my best to lie through my teeth. “Mike Redd.”
“Weird fuckin’ name, Mike Redd.”
“Well, my momma gave it to me,” I say through clenched teeth. “You wanna make something of it?”
At this, he surprises me by laughing. “Naw, man, naw. I just wanted to get a rise out of you. All right, Mike Redd, now, are you with an MC in town?”
I shake my head. “Just passin’ through and thought I’d have myself a good night.”
“And you ended up here?”.
“It was intentional.”
“Who told you about this little… event?” he probes.
Shit, I think, what was that stupid motherfucker’s name from the other night? I parse my memory, trying to pull out a piece of info as best I can. “Uh… Andre,” I say finally, thrilled a bit that I managed to pull something off like that.
“Andre told you?” the guy says disbelievingly.
“Didn’t say he told me.” I grin at him. “I said that’s who I heard it from.”
“Ah, well, that’s a whole different story. But if you’ve got the finder’s fee for me, we can be all done here.”
“What’s that?” I ask, concerned.
“Oh, the finder’s fee, you know… We take ten percent of whatever you bid, up front, and the ten G’s go to the little lady with the v-card.”
“Fuck, that’s… fuck.”
“You do have the money, don’t you?” he asks a little menacingly.
“Yeah, yeah, I got the money,” I say, pullin
g out my wallet and counting out ten hundred dollar bills for him.
“Damn, son!” he exclaims. “Usually, our boys pay in twenties! I see you come prepared. You said you’re here from out of town. Where at, exactly?”
“Billings,” I say without missing a beat. “That’s Montana. On my way out to see my sister in Virginia.”
“That’s a hell of a long haul.”
“I like the open road,” I respond, staring right into his eyes.
“That’s fine, that’s fine,” he babbles. “Okay, now, you know the rules, right?”
“The rules?”
“No marks, no bruises, no violence of any kind. Anything happens to that girl, we’ll find you, and we’ll kill you.”
“You care about the girl, huh?” I ask, and my question is actually sincere. I’m surprised that these bastards give a fuck about a girl like this at all.
But Clipboard shakes his head. “Her? Naw, she just came around for the first time today. But we do care about our reputation. And if you have problems playing nice, you hit our reputation. And we ain’t having anybody fuck with the reputation of the Tattooed Angels. You got me?”
I nod.
“Good, good,” he says, putting a plastered smile on his face. “Now, my friend, let’s go get your merchandise, shall we?”
“Don’t call her that,” I say with a little menace in my voice.
“Why not? That’s basically what she is, ain’t it?”
“Just don’t do it again.” I sneer.
Clipboard puts his hands up, on the defense. “All right, man, all right, you got it. Now, how about we introduce you to… Erin!”
The girl comes out looking flushed and nervous. I can tell from the way her makeup runs just a little bit around her eyes that she’s been fighting off tears and has reapplied her eyeliner recently. But then she flashes me that smile, and my world just kind of melts around her. She’s got something about her, some kind of bewitching spell she’s put on me.
“So,” I say to her, feeling more than a little bit awkward, “you ready to get the fuck out of this shithole?”
Chapter Five
Erin
I can’t believe it. I mean, I can’t believe it. My first reaction to the guys who were bidding on me was one of abject horror. I was terrified. The one guy, maybe, not so much scary as just… not my type. He was a … you know, a big guy. Not trying to be a jerk or anything. But then there was the other guy, the scary looking guy. He had a shaved head with a tattoo of a spider web all over it. He smiled a gross, toothy smile at me, and he was missing a good few teeth, too. It was not a good look.
But then, something happened. I had seen this guy come up to the front when I first went out on the stage, but I figured he was just trying to get a better look. Then the bidding took off, and all of a sudden, he just jumped up and bid ten thousand dollars on me. Ten thousand. That’s not going to cover all of my debts, but it’s sure as hell enough to keep me afloat.
And he was cute, whoever he was.
The first thing I noticed about him was that he was tall. Tall enough, anyway, that he had to duck coming in the door towards the dressing room. He had dark, olive-colored skin that was peppered with tattoos. His eyes were a deep, dark brown, and they were surprisingly kind. His hair was kind of all over the place, spikey and slick but still messy. I liked him almost instantly.
Then I remembered why he was there, what he was there for. And after he made his bid, I realized that this was going to be it: this was the guy I was going to lose my virginity to.
It’s not like I’m a prude or anything. Honestly, losing my virginity never seemed like a big deal to me – that’s why I never made it a priority to lose it.
I’d had boyfriends in the past, even fooled around a little bit (what was it that Ren had called it? “Everything but?”). But I’d never gone all the way for reasons that seem kind of stupid now. My first boyfriend back in high school was a bit of a prick, and other guys I’d dated never seemed to last particularly long. I guess it just never came up.
Well, it’s coming up now.
Real fast.
I’m not really sure how to start talking to this guy. I don’t even know his name, even though I already know I’m meant to sleep with him. It all seems so… weird. But if he’s willing to cut down my debts overnight, I suppose it’s worthwhile. Besides, something about his eyes seems kind – though maybe it’s just the lighting in this room.
He’s flanked by Blake, who seems to think something is funny. I don’t know what he could possibly think is funny about this. I’m literally ready to do unspeakable things, all in the name of—
My thoughts are cut off by Blake’s dry, unhelpful voice. “Erin,” he says to me, almost sweetly, but with a note of – what is that, condescension? “Please meet your date for tonight.”
“Hey,” the big guy says.
He’s shockingly good-looking, especially considering the other guys I’ve seen get girls tonight. I can’t imagine he’s ever paid for… for sex. He certainly could’ve gotten me with a couple of drinks and some sweet words.
He continues, “I’m Slash.”
I raise an eyebrow disbelievingly, but I hold my tongue. I’m too nervous to actually say what I’m thinking, which is that Slash sounds like a bad guy from a cheesy 80’s cartoon, not a badass biker from a big MC like the Tattooed Angels.
Instead, I simply say, “I’m Erin.”
The words sound stupid from the moment they come out of my mouth, and my voice sounds small, mouse-like, almost as if someone else had said them. I feel detached from my own body, like I’m floating above it. This whole thing is just surreal.
Blake, looking awkward, takes a step back. “Okay then. I’ve got to head off. You two lovebirds have a great evening.”
“Oh, we will,” Slash says, eyeing Blake with a mixture of intrigue and anger. “You ready?” he asks, turning back to me.
I look around, worried. “Now?” I ask, almost scared that he’s going to want to plow right into me in this dank closet “dressing room”. My voice shaking, I go up to him as seductively as I can and plant a kiss on his mouth. “Wouldn’t you rather… y’know… buy a girl a drink, first?”
Slash shakes his head. “I want to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible. Come on. My bike’s outside.”
“Your… bike?” Now I’m really confused. Does he want me, or not?
“Yeah, you know, motorcycle?” he says, teasing me just a little. “It’s kind of essential to being in an MC club to ride these things called motorcycles. Maybe you’ve heard of them.”
“Oh. Oh,” I say, finally realizing that he means to take me away from this godforsaken place. “I thought – I thought you wanted—”
“Wanted what?” he asks, seemingly intrigued. “What, you thought we were gonna fuck right here?” At that, he laughs. It’s a nice laugh, and he crinkles his eyes when he does it, which only makes him more attractive. “No way, lady.” His laugh simmers to a chuckle. “This ain’t my MC, and I don’t want to hang out here any longer than I have to. Let’s get going, okay?”
“What do you mean, this isn’t your MC?” I inquire.
“Shh!” He waves his hands at me to quiet down. “I’ll explain later, okay? Just, let’s get the fuck out of here for now. And please, for the love of God, keep the fuck quiet, capiche?”
I nod simply and follow him through the doors. There’s another girl up on stage now, one I hadn’t seen earlier. She’s dressed in a short black skirt and a white button-down shirt, looking like she’s hinting at being dirty but also feinting towards being pure. The guys seem less impressed.
As we head out the door, I hear the master of ceremonies call out, “Come on, boys, this is our last girl of the night. Let’s get this bidding going. Do I hear a thousand for this lovely lady? Anyone?”
I don’t get to hear how it ends because we’re through the front door of the Red Club before the bidding stops, but that’s when it hits me: I just wen
t for the most money of any girl tonight. I don’t know how it happened. Maybe it’s because I’m a redhead. Maybe it’s how I was dressed, which is more like what the guys are used to. Maybe I just got lucky.
Whatever the deal was, my virginity and I now belonged to a guy named Slash.
I feel a knot in my stomach as Slash helps me onto his bike. I don’t really know what to say, so I say nothing, but I’m starting to feel nauseous. We’re going to go somewhere, someplace unfamiliar, and we’re going to have sex. I have no idea if it’s going to be that clinical. I have no idea what to expect, quite honestly, except that I’m bound to this guy now for the night.
As he kicks off and starts the ride to what I can only presume is his place, I find my thoughts turning to my mom. She’s the whole reason I’m doing this, the whole reason why I need to do this – the whole reason why I can do this. I know she doesn’t have a lot of time left, and I hate that I’m missing out on what precious few moments I have left with her. But I know I have to do something, and if this is what I can do to get us on solid ground again, well, it’s going to have to be what I do.
