by Kim Jones
It’s midnight, the house is packed and I’m the performance everyone has been waiting for. Chip has promoted my name on billboards, the sides of buses and even has people on the street handing out vouchers for free drinks, just to come see me dance. This time, I dressed myself and chose my own song. Wearing a fedora, thigh high boots and a trench coat, I make my way out on stage. The audience is quiet, listening to the sound of my heels as I strut across the stage in the darkness. The music is timed perfectly with the lights, and the opening of Britney Spears’ Slave For You has the crowd going nuts. I keep my head down with my hand on my hat while the introduction plays. When the actual music starts, I throw the fedora into the crowd. Walking around the stage, I make eye contact as I slowly unbutton my trench coat.
I imagine all the faces looking back at me belong to Regg, and soon, I’m nearly naked in front of all of them. I keep my g-string on, giving the crowd a good show, but making them wonder what’s hidden beneath the thin piece of material. By the time the song is over, I’m breathless, the crowd is crazy and the stage is littered with monetary tokens of their affection. I am empty.
When I exit the stage, Chip is waiting for me, drink in hand.
“There’s my girl.” Knocking back the drink, I take the cigarette from between his lips, taking a pull before blowing the smoke back in his face.
“I’m not ya girl.” I am his slave.
***
Chip has provided me with a fully furnished apartment under his name in the northern part of the city. It’s quiet here away from the noisy, busy streets of downtown. Under different circumstances, I might have liked it. I have a driver that takes me everywhere I need to go. He even lives in the same building as I do, and is at my every beck and call. But I’m no fool. I know it’s not because Chip is a nice guy- it’s because he wants to keep an eye on me.
I have everything I need. I have the finest clothes, the finest food and the most expensive fucking bed I’ve ever seen. But here I am, on the floor, eating Oreos, dressed in one of Regg’s old t-shirts that don’t even smell like him anymore, crying because I don’t have everything I need. I don’t have him. I’m reaching my breaking point. If I could just see him, I might be able to get through this. It is like withdrawals all over again.
I head down to the gym with no intention of getting an early morning workout. My eyes zone in on the phone hanging on the wall. I look around, forgetting that it’s too damn early for anyone other than me to be up. Picking up the receiver, I block the call before dialing Regg’s number. It rings once before I hear his voice.
“Yeah?” Tears fall from my eyes from just the one word. Keeping my hand over my mouth, I listen to his breathing. “Hello?” I’m struggling to stay quiet. I want to tell him I love him. I want to tell him to come get me from this godforsaken place and take me home with him. I hear him moving and picture him sitting up in bed, our bed.
“Red?” My name is my undoing and the hope in his voice has me hanging up the phone. I slide down the wall, crying loudly into my hands. He was the only man who’s ever loved me-the only man willing to dedicate his life to me-the only man who’s ever made me feel like I was someone. He was the heroin in my veins, the vodka in my blood and the dance in my heart. He was my lifeline. My world. My Regg. And now, he is gone.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hitting Rock Bottom Doesn’t Keep You From Falling
I’ve been in Vegas Hell for two months. I hate it here. I hate the lights, the people, the smells, the heat and most of all… I hate Chip. I don’t see him a lot. He spends most of his time in the casinos gambling, but not a day passes that I don’t get a phone call from him-asking me to come to his place. Not in a million fucking years.
We’ve compromised over me not getting completely naked on stage. I can keep an article of clothing on, if I agree to strip nude in a VIP private dance. There is no telling the amount of money he is making off of me. My cut is two-fifty, and I'm sure he is making at least three times that. Just the thought of someone paying a grand to see my pussy for fifteen minutes makes me sick. But, I don’t want to push Chip too far in fear of what he might do.
The club is always packed. I don’t know one day from another. I’m just as busy on Tuesdays as I am on Saturdays. Chip keeps me booked and has me on a tight schedule. Like a puppet, I let him pull my strings and move me in any direction he wants.
It’s Monday and my schedule tells me that I have a private in twenty minutes. Perfect. Another fifteen minutes of misery that I’m so not looking forward to. Wearing a simple tube top and mini skirt, I strut to the private rooms in the back to wait for my customer. Even when I worked at Pete’s, I always provided my clients with a drink on me-vodka on the rocks. Chip has managed to import Kauffman’s just for me, but I don’t share that. They usually get house vodka which is still pretty good. At least here it is.
I take a seat on the velvet couch, leaning my head back and getting lost in the music. I dance to whatever is playing over the speakers and right now, it is a popular rap song that has already been played twice tonight.
Minutes before my client arrives, I pour their drink and plaster a smile on my face. Any second they will be walking through the heavy drapes that separate us from the rest of the club. A man wearing a ball cap and a heavy jacket walks in, making me raise my eyebrow in question. Even though it is the end of January, the weather is in the fifties which doesn’t warrant a coat of this magnitude. Oh well, who am I to judge?
“Welcome, handsome,” I say to the man who keeps his head down. The curtain is closed, and I extend my hand to the shy guy who I am sure has the interest of the bouncers. No doubt in only a few minutes, they will be coming in to check on me. “Vodka?” I offer, handing him his drink.
“I’m more of a Jack and coke kinda man.” My body goes into sensory overload and my head spins at his voice. Picking his head up, I come face to face with Regg’s soft, brown eyes. I don’t know whether to cry, laugh, hug him or push him away. I’ve longed to see his face for months, and now he was here. “What are you doing here?” I manage to say, my voice nothing but a whisper.
“What do you think I’m doing here, Red?” Shit. Fuck. Dammit. Dammit. DAMMIT. This is not happening. He has to leave. Right now. If Chip finds out he is here…
“You have to leave, Regg. Please.” He smiles at me, throwing a piece of my broken heart back in place.
“I don’t think so, Red. Tell me what’s going on.” He hasn’t touched me yet, and damn, I wish he would. I just want to feel his hands on me.
“I couldn’t turn this job down. I’m making over six figures here. I need this.” You. I need you.
“Bullshit. All you need is standing right here in front of you. Are you scared? Is it the fear of commitment? Why the fuck did you run?” I want to cry. I want to scream at the top of my lungs. He’s right. All I need is him, and he’s the one thing I can’t have. I turn away from him, knowing that I have to end this now.
“I’m not ready to settle down. I just need some time to figure out what I want,” I lie, knowing good and damn well that what I want is standing only a foot from me. Think of Todd. Think of Todd.
“I think you’ve had enough time to figure out what in the fuck it is you want, Red. You lied to me the day you left and now, you’re lying to me again.” He didn’t believed me when I told him I didn’t love him. The thought is bittersweet. As much as I wanted him to believe it so he would move on, I wanted him to know that I did love him more.
“Say whatever you want. I’m not going to change my mind. See, that’s what’s wrong with you bikers.” I say the word like it tastes nasty in my mouth-like it’s a disgrace to even have it in my vocabulary. With images of Todd flashing fresh in my mind, I give him the coldest, darkest side of me. “You think you can just walk in here and take whatever you want. It’s not gonna happen, Regg. Not now and not ever. Did you ever wonder why I never settled down with anyone in the club? It’s because I know that life, and it’s not something I w
ant. Leave, Regg, before I have you escorted off the premises.” I hope like hell Regg will just leave on his own. I am sure it will take all of the security staff and then some to forcefully remove him. And I am sure he isn’t alone.
I hold his stare, keeping my face impassive. When I see the look of defeat creep into his eyes, I have to fight harder than ever to not tell him why I’m here.
“Are you with him?” he asks, shock evident on his face as if he’s found the missing piece to the puzzle. I want to tell him the truth, but it seems I’ve found a way to get Regg to completely let go of me.
“What if I am?” I ask, throwing my hand on my hip for emphasis.
“If you are Red, then that’s a game changer.” His voice shakes with fury at just the thought of me being with someone else. This jealous side of him is new, and something I can definitely use to my advantage in this moment.
“Then consider the game changed.” There. I said it. By the look on his face and the defeat in his eyes, I know that I’ve convinced him of my worst possible nightmare.
“I’m getting on a plane in an hour.” He pulls a ticket from his wallet and hands it to me. My name is typed on the front of a first class ticket to New Orleans. “I want you to come with me. But, if I leave the state of Nevada and you aren’t with me, you can forget I ever existed. I will disappear from your life, Red. Just like you disappeared from mine. And I won’t come back.” His words hold a promise that I know too well. He means what he says. This is my last chance to be with him, but some lives are more important than my own.
“Goodbye, Regg.” His brown eyes hold me, staring deep into my soul. I feel everything inside me die when he forces a smile and mutters the last words to me I’ll ever hear him say.
“Goodbye, Red.” And then…he is gone.
I run to the bathroom, letting all the emotions I’ve kept in check pour from me until I’m nearly screaming with hurt. In my hand, I hold the ticket to my freedom. But, freedom isn’t the only thing it possesses. It holds the key to a future that I once had at my fingertips. It’s my journey back to a life that I never thought I was owed, yet God had somehow deemed me worthy of it. Now, it was just a piece of paper that would forever haunt me as being the closest thing to love I’ve ever had.
Visions of Todd growing old and Regg happily married are nothing but a blur now. I am not strong enough for this. If I told Regg, yeah, he might go to jail. But, I know deep down that he would rather spend the rest of his life behind bars than one moment knowing that I’ve sacrificed what we had for a problem that isn’t even mine. Who am I to not let him be the man he is? Who am I for not bringing my problems to the one man that promised to take care of me? What does that say about how I felt about him? It is wrong of me to take on this burden. I remember the sadness I lived with on a daily basis thinking about what I put Luke through with my addiction over the years. Now, I am doing the same thing to Regg.
Sometimes in life, you do stupid shit. You make decisions out of impulse because you think it’s the right thing to do. But living with the heartache of knowing that the woman you love didn’t trust you enough to be a man and take care of her would hurt more than anything else. That’s the kind of man Regg is. He doesn’t need anyone handling his burdens because it is his job. And my job is to give him that burden with not an ounce of fear over what the outcome would be.
Shielding him from the truth might be protecting him, but it isn’t love. It is cowardly fear of having something that belonged to me taken away. Telling him the truth and trusting him to handle it no matter the cost- that is love. And love is something I have for him- Devil’s Renegades Regg. Jumping to my feet, I run from the bathroom with one thought on my mind- I have a plane to catch.
“Red! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking for you.” Chip’s voice stops me in my tracks and my mind works overtime to come up with a story to pacify him.
“I’m not feeling well, Chip. I need the night off.” I hold my stomach, letting him think my red, swollen eyes are a result of vomiting.
“Damn, you okay?” I shake my head, squinting my eyes shut and grabbing the back of my dressing room chair as if the motion nauseated me further.
“I think I just need some sleep.”
“Of course,” he comes closer to me, a look of concern on his face. “Come on, I’ll get one of the guys to take you home.” He holds out my robe to slip my arms through before placing his hand on the small of my back and leading me to his office. Once inside, he picks up his desk phone, mumbling a few hushed words into the receiver. Turning back to me, he props up against his desk, surveying me. “You think it’s some kind of stomach flu?” I’ve never seen the motherfucker be this nice and it has my stomach turning over, for real.
“Not sure. Maybe it was something I ate.” I wish he’d just shut the hell up. Two guys walk in, and he motions for them to come closer. Does he think I have to be carried?
“I see, hmmm. You think it has anything to do with your visitor?” My head snaps up, as my stomach clenches in fear. “I think it does.” He walks slowly over to me, picking up my purse from the floor. I try to snatch it from his fingers, but he’s too quick. “What is this? A plane ticket to New Orleans? First class too, I’m impressed.”
“It’s not what you think, Chip. He left. He’s gone and he’s not coming back.”
“So you aren’t going to meet him?”
“No, I’m just sad to see him and I want to go home. Look, I’ve given you everything you asked for. You have no reason not to trust me.” Anger builds inside of me. I’m getting defensive because everything he’s accusing me of is true.
“You know what I think?” I stare at him, not really giving a shit what he thinks. “I think you’re a liar. And I think you need something to help you remember where you belong.” I jump to my feet, fearing that he will make a call to have someone hurt Regg. Big arms grab me, holding me down as he walks back over to his desk.
“Stop! Chip don’t! I’ll do anything, just please don’t hurt them.” He laughs at my state of panic.
“Come on, Red. You think I’d fuck with the brother of one of the most powerful MCs in the south? I’m not an idiot. So I took a couple of pictures…got a phone number out of a book. Luke’s connections reach further than mine do. Charlie Lott would have my head if Luke asked him to.” Charlie Lott- Luke’s mob boss employer. He could make this all go away. All I have to do is find a way to make a phone call.
“I see your wheels spinning,” Chip teases, walking towards me with his hands behind his back. “That’ll stop soon enough. This is where you belong, Red. You’ve done a hell of a job. It’s gonna be tough to replace you. But, you know too much for me to just let you go. Don’t worry, though. I’ll be sure to keep you happy.” From behind his back, he pulls a needle and I feel my eyes widen at the sight of it.
“No!” I scream, but I’m silenced by a big hand that covers my mouth and holds my neck in a position that could easily cause it to break with one sharp twist. I thrash against the hands anyway, willing to die than be injected with what I know is heroin.
My arm is stretched out, exposing my veins and I blink rapidly to keep the tears from fogging my vision. I scream against the sweaty hand, begging him not to do this. Without a second look at me, he jabs me hard with the needle, and within seconds, everything goes black.
Chapter Thirty
Moving on
Regg
“Reggie, it’s your play.” I look over at my little brother, who is not so patiently waiting for me to make my next move in Checkers. I dominate this game usually, but today my head is somewhere else. I’ve been home for a week, and I convinced myself on the plane ride back that I was done. But since I got home, I’ve had this feeling like something is wrong and I can’t seem to ignore it.
I tracked her down by pure fucking coincidence. Taylor, of all people, had gone to Vegas for a bachelorette party. She noticed Red’s face on a billboard, and when I saw her in a bar a few days after her retu
rn, she told me to tell her congratulations. I didn’t hesitate booking myself a round trip ticket and a one-way for Red. It was a waste of fucking money, I guess.
When I arrived in Vegas, Red’s face covered the pamphlets in the back seat of the taxi. Once on the strip, she was on several big screens that read ‘Hottest Show in Vegas.’ I was afraid that she might be too caught up in the fame, but when I saw her face, I noticed the distance in her eyes. Then, she finally confirmed all my fears.
Luke was right- Red is a creature of habit. As soon as she got a chance to run back to what she’s always known, she did. It was hard seeing her, but at least I have the peace of mind knowing that she isn’t back on drugs. Out of impulse, I want to fuck everything that walks just to get her back in some way. She’s moved on. Not only is Chip using her to promote his business, but he is fucking her as well.
I’ve been driving myself crazy. The guys have encouraged me to move on. Hell, some of the ol’ ladies have told me it was time too. I can’t get her out of my head, though. She is still the most important thing in my life, even if I’m not hers.
I ride a lot. I spend a lot of time with my family and too much time with the club. But, just like in my dreams, she’s always there. I feel her behind me when I ride down the highway, even though I haven’t had a bitch seat on my bike in weeks. I hear her laughter in the bars when I’m with the club, but they’re ain’t a soul in there that can hold a candle to her. I see her in the sad eyes of my Aunt Kathy who hurts because I hurt. And I smell her…everywhere. Her sweet scent fills my house and invades my thoughts, always leading me back to her.
