by Lila Moore
“I’m not interested in watching you get blackout drunk. You won’t be able to enjoy the surprise I have for you.”
“Oh God, what? I can’t handle any more surprises, Trent.”
“This is a good surprise. Trust me. Have I ever led you astray?”
Ten different instances of Trent leading me astray immediately popped into my head. Before I could list them, he grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me through the club.
The Blu Lounge was a place I never imagined returning to, but when Trent insisted on meeting here, I didn’t argue. I’d agreed because the club reminded me of Genevieve. I remembered her sitting at the bar, sipping her nonalcoholic drink, looking excited and overwhelmed by her surroundings. We’d slept together for the first time in one of the club’s private rooms. It wasn’t the most romantic hook-up, but it was one of the hottest I’d ever had. Now Trent was leading me in the direction of that very same room.
In my drunken state, I wasn’t sure what to think. For a fleeting moment, I thought Genevieve was in the room waiting for me. I quickly dismissed the idea. It made no sense. Trent had no contact with Genevieve and he didn’t think I should either. He would never set the two of us up.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I stopped in my tracks and pulled it out. Val was calling me for the sixth time today. I hit Ignore and stared at the screen. I’d written a thousand texts to send to Genevieve and discarded them all. I had no idea how to explain my feelings to her. I wasn’t sure I understood my feelings well enough to even articulate them.
What I had to say felt bigger than a text, but I had no other way of getting in contact with her. I didn’t know her email address and according to Val, Genevieve had left home.
“Who was that?” Trent asked.
“Nobody. Where are you taking me?”
“Your surprise awaits in the back.”
“I don’t want a lap dance,” I protested.
“Why not? Take a look around. You’re in a strip club.”
I stopped to consider a topless girl carrying drinks. She passed in front of me; her tits brushed against my arms as she shimmied by. Her dark brown eyes fell on me and the corner of her mouth twisted into an inviting smile.
I could follow her; she wanted me to. Before Genevieve, I would have. That’s what my life had been reduced to: before Genevieve and after Genevieve. Now, the idea of hooking up with a gorgeous stripper held no appeal. I wanted to return to the bar and drowned my sorrows in alcohol. I drunkenly stumbled away from Trent.
“Hey, where are you going?” he called.
I wanted to return to the bar, but in my drunken state I got turned around. I ended up in the far corner of the club. The back wall was lined with leather seats. Men- and a few women- received lap dances from gyrating girls.
Bored, I considered them for a moment. A stripper whipped her fuchsia hair around like a windmill as she grinded against a man’s cock. He slapped the girl’s ass hard. That’s a no-no in the club. You’re supposed to keep your hands to yourself unless one of the girls places your hands on her.
The fuchsia-haired girl’s face twisted with annoyance. “I’ve warned you,” she said.
She jumped off his lap and motioned for the guard.
“Hey!” the man protested. “Why are you acting so uptight? You’re a stripper, you should be used to being treated like a-”
The security guard grabbed the tall, lanky asshole by the elbow and pulled him out of his seat. The stage lights fell on him. Michael. Genevieve’s ex-boyfriend. I’d recognize that smug, weasel-faced bastard anywhere. His eyes locked on me; his face lit up.
“Hey!” he said to the security guard. “I wasn’t getting rough with the girls. That guy will vouch for me. Ask him!”
He pointed in my direction. If he thought I was going to save him from being thrown out on his ass, he was sorely mistaken. I planned on finding a front row seat to his humiliation. I was going to enjoy this.
That’s when it happened.
Genevieve stepped into view. I saw her before she saw me. Her dark hair hung loose and wild around her. She wore smoke-y, sexy eye makeup. It made her look like the kind of girl who knew how to get what she wanted.
For a startling second, I thought I was looking at a younger version of Val. The image quickly faded when Genevieve stepped closer. In spite of her sex-kitten makeup, her blue eyes were sad and glassy. She looked miserable. She stood off to the side watching as Michael argued with the bouncer. Were they here together?
“Gigi, would you pay this man so he’ll let me go?” Michael demanded.
The bouncer rolled his eyes. “That ain’t how this works, man. You disrespect the girls, you get thrown out. Simple as that,” he replied.
So they were here together. Why would she run back to that loser? The only answer that made any sense was low self-esteem. Val had done her best to tear down what little self-worth Genevieve had. Now, her daughter was drawn to losers like Michael.
“Are you just going to stand there gawking like an idiot?” Michael yelled at her.
Something inside me snapped. I took a step towards him. He smiled foolishly. Michael seemed convinced that I was coming to his rescue. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Two steps and I was right in his face. I wasted no time. I balled my hand into a fist and hit him. I knocked the shit-eating grin off his face with one punch. He fell to the floor, cowering behind the bouncer.
A second security guard ran over. He grabbed my arms pinning them behind my back. I didn’t fight him. I was through with Michael.
“Out,” he shouted.
He pushed me through the crowd past a wide-eyed Genevieve.
“Meet me outside,” I shouted to her as I was dragged out of the club. She blinked and turned away. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.
The bouncer pushed me out into the club’s back alleyway. Michael was shoved out behind me. He tripped, falling on his face. When he stood, his pants were covered in wet slime from the leaking dumpster. I smiled at the sight of him: pathetic, filthy, and barely able to stand.
He glared at me; his lower lip started to tremble like a little boy. Michael glanced over his shoulder at the bouncers. They were standing guard in front of the club’s entrance. He quickly turned back to me.
“You want to fight, bitch? Let’s see what you got. You’re not going to sucker punch me this time. I’m going to make you wish you’d never met me.”
Nervously, he again looked back at the bouncers. I knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to provoke me in the hope I’d come at him. He was assuming the bouncers would step in and break us up. Michael thought he could talk shit to me, then hide behind the bouncers. He was wrong. Outside the club, the security guards don’t care what you do; it’s not their problem.
I took a step towards Michael, prepared to beat the shit out of him. I stopped. Genevieve appeared at the exit to the club. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over the shoulders of the bouncers. I stopped in my tracks. Beating up Michael was not the way to get on her good side.
“That’s what I thought,” Michael said. “Now that you don’t have the element of surprise on your side, you’re acting like a pussy.”
I balled my hands into fists. I could destroy this rodent-faced prick in a heartbeat. Genevieve would be furious. Of course, she already hated me; I didn’t have anything to lose.
“Wait!” she called. She pushed past the bouncers and jumped between us. “Don’t hurt him,” she said to me.
Michael scoffed. “Babe, I was just about to teach this rich bitch a lesson. Step aside and let your man handle this.”
Genevieve pushed Michael back. He stumbled, nearly falling on his ass. Genevieve’s a tiny girl, but I’m pretty sure she could kick Michael’s ass without assistance. Not that I would put her in that position. If he ever laid a hand on her, I’d kill him.
“Get out of here,” she screamed.
Now it’s my turn to smile smugly. Michael hadn’t count
ed on being rejected and publicly humiliated like this. Then with a sinking horror, I realized Genevieve was talking to me.
“Just go. You’ll only make things worse.”
“Gen…”
I didn’t know what to say to make things right. I was aware of the fact that I was drunk and anything I said was going to sound like the ramblings of a drunk. Still, I wanted her to know how sorry I was.
“I don’t know what the truth is anymore, but I want you to know I’m sorry. I’ve been a fool, an asshole, an idiot-”
Genevieve didn’t interrupt me. Can’t say I blame her for agreeing with my assessment of my behavior.
“I don’t deserve you. You’re beautif- beat-“ For some reason the word ‘beautiful,’ sounded hideous coming from me. I couldn’t even properly articulate it in my drunken state. “The point is: I’m sorry.”
Genevieve clutched her stomach like she was going to be sick. “We need to talk,” she responded coolly. She sounded like a business client who’s trying to brace me for bad news. “But not here, and not like this,” she added. “You’re drunk. Go home and sleep it off.”
I frowned. It was clear Genevieve didn’t think too highly of me at the moment, and who could blame her?
“How can I reach you?” I asked, grabbing her elbow before she could run away.
“I’ll get in touch with you.”
She shook off my hand and turned to leave with Michael. She dragged him behind her pathetically. He wiped off his pants and glared at me with an expression, I suppose he believed would intimidate me. He looked like a big constipated baby. I can’t imagine a man feeling threatened by Michael.
“Wait! Where are you staying?” I shouted.
“She’s staying with me,” Michael responded as they slipped into the backseat of a taxi cab.
They were gone before I could protest. I stood in the damp alley feeling a mixture of rage and disgust unlike any I’d ever felt before. Genevieve was sleeping with Michael. The image of that rat-faced bastard putting his hands on Genevieve’s body made me want to puke. How could she stand it? What kind of spell did he have on her?
Without thinking, I started to follow the taxi down the street. It was long gone of course. The night couldn’t end like this. I needed to find Genevieve and convince her of how sorry I was, but how? She was staying with Michael. Where did he live? I only knew his first name. I’d need help finding his home address. There was no way I was letting Genevieve spend another night with that creep. I’d pay for a hotel or condo, whatever she wanted. As long as she didn’t stay with Michael.
I turned back and headed to the club. Trent would know what to do. God help me, but I was putting my future with Genevieve in his hands.
Genevieve
“Can you believe he thought he could kick my ass?”
I glanced at Michael. He stunk of garbage and something pungent, like cheap cologne. His lip was swollen and crusted with blood. His tongue snaked out of his mouth, touching the cut on his lip. He winced.
“If he hadn’t sucker punched me, I would have kicked his ass.”
I seriously doubted that, but I wasn’t going to argue. If not for Michael, I wouldn’t have a place to stay. I couldn’t risk angering him; he might kick me out.
“Why did he hit you?” I asked.
“He’s obviously jealous of me.”
“Jealous of what?”
I hadn’t meant to sound insulting, but it did. Luke led a life full of wealth, freedom and women. Michael’s life was the exact opposite. He’d never be that rich, handsome ladies’ man.
Shame washed over me. Michael was helping me out and I was being mean and judgmental. So what if he wasn’t rich or hot? There’s more to life than looks, and money has brought nothing but trouble into my life.
“Because I stole his girl. Guys like that can’t handle losing. He’ll just have to accept that the better man won.”
I touched my stomach. Every hour that ticked by was a moment closer to me becoming a mother.
“Why do you keep doing that?” Michael asked.
“What?”
“You keep grabbing your stomach like you’re about to hurl. Are you sick or something?”
Or something…
“A little.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. I still had morning sickness. Michael just didn’t know the cause of it.
“If you’re going to puke,” he said, as he opened the door to his apartment, “do it in the hallway. I don’t want my place smelling like vomit.”
“Thanks, Michael. That’s real sweet of you to show your concern.”
I walked past him into the apartment and went straight to my room. Or, at least, that had been my intent. Michael had other plans. He grabbed my arm and spun me around.
“Hey, I let you live here for free. I don’t need your attitude. It’s not like you give me anything in return for staying here.”
By ‘anything,’ he meant sex. His grip on my arm weakened. He ran his fingers up my arm slowly, then stopped on my neck. He turned his head to the side, examining my body.
“You could be like those girls, you know? The girls in the club. They make a lot of money and all they have to do is give lap dances.”
“I don’t think I’d be any good at it.”
This conversation was making me extremely uncomfortable. I had a feeling it was headed in a bad direction.
“Why not? It’s not difficult. You could start now. Give me a lap dance.”
“I really don’t feel good, Michael. Maybe some other time.”
“Do you like living here for free?”
I didn’t respond.
“I’ve been patient with you Genevieve. It’s time you reward my generosity.”
Michael grabbed the top of my dress and pulled it down. I let out a small scream and covered my mouth.
“What’s gotten into you? It’s not like I haven’t seen your tits before.”
He reached for my breasts. I pushed him hard; he fell back onto the sofa. My mind raced. How could I get out of this? I could run, but where would I go? I couldn’t go back home.
Michael’s face twisted with rage. “What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“I thought you wanted a lap dance?” I replied weakly.
He loosened up a bit. “Well, yeah, but you’re acting uptight. So I thought…”
He thought what? He’d just force me? I felt disgusted with Michael, but I hated myself even more. He was the second man to make a fool of me. I thought he cared about me, but he was no better than my mother or Luke. The only thing that mattered to Michael was what he got out of our relationship. He didn’t care if he hurt me.
It suddenly hit me: this was all one big con. All Michael wanted was to one-up Luke. Michael thought he was a big man now that he’d taken something from Luke. Except he hadn’t taken anything. I’d come here willingly. Michael didn’t steal me away. It had been Luke and my mother who’d pushed me away back into the arms of this man- a man who was becoming increasingly more pathetic and abusive.
“Well…? My dick’s not going suck itself.”
He unzipped his pants and started to stroke his flaccid, small cock. Instantly, I was done. One percent over him.
I pulled my dress back up as best I could. When Michael clawed at my top, he’d ripped one of the straps. So my dress hung awkwardly over my chest.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded.
I didn’t answer. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. Michael reached for my shoulder. I slipped out of his grasp, but he managed to grab my hair. He pulled hard, then released me. I screamed and fell with a loud thud.
“Fuck, Genevieve. What are you doing?” Michael paced around me. “Why did you make me do that?”
Suddenly, the door flew open, breaking on the hinges. Luke entered the apartment. His eyes were wild with anger and liquor. I’d never seen him like this before. He looked at me lying on the floor before him, then his narrow gaze fell on Mi
chael. Michael took a step back and held out his hands defensively.
“Hey man, this is not what it looks like. I swear. Tell him Genevieve. We were just playing around. She likes it rough. Don’t you?”
I swallowed hard, tasting blood in the back of my throat. In the blink of an eye, Luke was on top of Michael throwing punch after punch. Michael let out a scream and begged Luke to stop.
I started to tremble. I thought Luke might kill him. There was no way I could stop him even if I’d wanted to, and I’m not sure I did.
Suddenly, a second man was stepping over me. He had short hair and an athletic build. He was wearing a well-tailored suit that bulged around his muscles. He grabbed Luke and pulled him off of Michael.
“That’s enough, man,” he said. “You showed him.”
Not satisfied, Luke kicked Michael in the crotch. Michael let out a high-pitched yelp, then vomited.
“Did you learn your lesson, you piece of shit? If you touch Genevieve again, you’re going to get ten times worse than what I just gave you. Do you understand?” Luke demanded.
The only sound to emerge from Michael was a squeak of pain. I doubted he’d learn anything, which is why it was important to get out of here and never come back. I pushed myself up on to my hands and knees. All of my things had fallen out of my purse. I started to shove them inside. Luke knelt down beside me to help.
“Are you okay?” he asked gently.
The madness in his eyes had softened to genuine concerned. He breathed heavily; his knuckles were coated in Michael’s drying blood.
I nodded. I didn’t trust myself to speak. I knew my voice would crack and I’d start to cry. My hands trembled as I grabbed at the mess of things that had spilled out of my purse. Luke put his hand over mine.
“It’s okay,” he said. He pulled me to him and hugged me. “It’s over. You’re safe now.”
He ran his hands through my hair and down my back. A shiver racked my body. I let him hold me. The scent of his clean skin and the warmth of his body felt like home.
“We need to get out of here,” Luke’s friend said. “The neighbors probably heard the fight. The cops are most likely on the way.”
