Vivid Lies

by Alyne Robers

  Thankfully, I was born with a teammate. I have something not many others have, and that's another to fight with me. Someone who has my back no matter what happens and would never give up on me. London is half my strength. She is half my bravery and passion even though she thinks that's all me.

  And because I am a resourceful, I find myself in the parking garage a couple of hours before my shift. I'm in the platform heels I plan to wear tonight. There's a reason they are called stripper heels. I just wish I knew that little tip before I took the stage the other night. Lesson learned.

  I make sure no one is around as I walk over to the pole I found the other night. It's not in the most glamorous location, next to the dumpster, but it's all I've got right now. As I approach, I notice there's something different.

  I run my hand over the fresh, smooth paint. It's no longer chipping away and rough to hold. The smell of spray paint lingers faintly in the damp garage.

  Kane must have painted the pole since he was the only one who knew that I used it.

  I don't spend too much time evaluating his motives. I use the little time I have to make sure I can pull off my dance tonight. I throw my body around the pole and glide easily, without the pain this time. I make it through my planned routine three times before I need to leave.

  I drive to the club, trying to catch the sunset along the way. I love watching the day fade into night. The night always felt like it was my time. When we were teenagers, I would climb out our window when London was asleep. I would sit by the pond or go walk around, just enjoying the alone time.

  The club is busy when I push through the heavy doors. I weave my way through the guys waiting at the bar and into the back room. I scan the stage schedule, praying I'm still in on it after my fall the other night. I'm surprised to see I am up after Candy, and then I can work the floor giving lap dances or dance in the VIP.

  Here, you either serve or you perform. Some girls do both, some only perform, and some only serve. The girls get to request their nights and what they will do for the night. The powers that be either approve or don't. Stage time is harder to get, as they only want the best out there.

  I slip into my outfit, a leather vest that shows off my stomach and plenty of cleavage with matching hot shorts. In the mirror, I pull my hair up into a high ponytail and put on red lipstick. I see Candy brush by me quickly and I know it's her turn.

  I stare at my reflection and breathe through my nerves. My green eyes are wide and full of fear, but I tell myself I've got this. I imagine London's voice reminding me how much I practiced and how hard I worked. London is the voice in my head usually. It calms me enough that I force myself to the stage just in time to catch the end of Candy's routine.

  "Good luck," she says as she steps past me, her discarded clothes in her arms.

  The lights go dark and I'm announced as Brooke. I don't even mind it this time. It feels better going up there as someone else and not Brooklyn. I take my place with the pole in my hands while I wait for the music to begin.

  When the first few beats come, I look up into the faceless crowd and pretend I know what I'm doing. I move like I there's no possible way I will fail. I take my time, showing off my legs and teasing them. I bend backwards and twirl around the pole, loving the way the men cheer me on.

  When the vest hits the floor, I feel invincible. I possess a body strength I didn't know I had as I hold myself upside down on the pole. A fire rips through my veins with the rush. I rip the buttons open on the shorts and they join the money littering the stage floor. More bills get tucked into my thong as I tease the men and few women up in front.

  I perform the dance without a single mistake and I'm panting by the time my set ends. I gather my clothes and money without looking back at all the people who saw me mostly naked. The cool air of the hallway to the dressing room feels amazing on my skin. Feeling high, I get dressed again and touch up my makeup before heading back out.

  I feel his eyes on me the moment I clear the curtain and step onto the floor. My eyes are still adjusting to the dim light, but I know Kane is here somewhere. My body heats and my blood rushes faster, my excitement reaching a new high. This is reason why I do this. The rush and the power.

  At the bar, I grab a shot and watch the crowd. Another girl is on stage and she's killing it. My eyes wander over to the table Kane sat at the night I met him.

  He's there. Watching me with a dark look on his face.

  I slowly approach him, taking in the way his leather jacket hugs his wide shoulders and how large his hands look wrapped around his beer bottle. I don't bother saying anything as I crawl into his lap. I hold his shoulders and lean back so I can see his face and he can see my body.

  "Much better," he says with his trademark smirk.

  "Well, I had some practice," I tease with a roll of my hips.

  A faint hiss falls from his lips and one hand grabs my hip. The playful smile is now gone.

  "This one is on me," I whisper in his ear.

  I roll my body into his, pushing my chest into his face and rubbing against him. Lap dances are easy compared to what I just did. I feel high, sexy, and powerful. Nothing can stop me tonight.

  Kane's body is tense at first, but soon I have him relaxed as his eyes take in my exposed body. He looks appreciative and hesitant and the same time.

  "You got a wife or girlfriend waiting at home?" I ask in his ear.

  Not that it matters to me much anyway. If you want your man to stay away from strippers, you can start by keeping him out of the strip clubs. They come here to look. If it wasn't me, then it would be another girl. We give them a show, we don't fuck them. Well, I don't. I just want to understand his hesitation.

  "Nope. Not looking for one either."

  "Wise man." I wink at him before spinning and putting my back to his chest.

  He hardens against my lower back and it makes the blood rush to my head. I feel heavy with the adrenaline flowing through me. Music controls my body as I mold myself to Kane and thoroughly earn the paint job he did for me. His breath tickles down my back and his lips hover dangerously close to my neck but he never closes the distance.

  He teases just as well as I do. When the song switches into the next, I pull away from him and meet his dark eyes. His smile is faint like he can see the want all over me. It's like he's daring me to act on it or make a move. I back away from him, holding his challenging stare until the crowd swallows me. I'm not looking for a boyfriend or even a one night stand.

  I'm looking for that rush. That excitement when I see lust in their eyes. I want to feel wanted as Brooklyn. I don't care if it's just for my ass and boobs. It's all temporary anyway.

  I ride my high the rest of the night. I do lap dance after lap dance on the floor. I'm fresh meat to the regulars and look like I'm high demand to the newbies. My hair sticks to the back of my neck by the time of last call. My feet are killing me and my muscles ache.

  In the dressing room, I change while the rest of the girls chat and count their money. I pull on a pair of jeans and leave the jacket on over the leather vest. I don't bother putting on something clean. My skin feels like it has a layer of filth on it. I just want to get home and shower before climbing into my bed naked.

  I rush out the back doors into the dim parking lot. I see the shadow of Ben, another bouncer, near the door as he watches some of the other girls file out. Inside the quiet car, I take a deep breath.

  I did it. I was amazing.

  Big 'fuck you' to you, Dad.

  I put the key in the ignition, ready to get home and in bed. The old Jeep rumbles to life and then dies. I try again but the car dies instantly. I take the key out and slide it back in, like that will make a difference.

  Nothing. The gas light is blinking at me. London left me with an almost empty tank of gas. A knock comes from the window and I scream. The shadow leans down, and I see it's Kane. I quickly roll down the window.

  "Let me give you a ride," he says.

  "Kane," I breathe. "Yo
u scared me."

  "I'm not the worst thing lurking around in the dark alleys," he says. "Come on. We're going to the same place."

  I look around the parking lot and see the girls are gone now and so is Ben. Anyone would tell you not to leave with someone you barely know that you met in a strip club, but my gut tells me otherwise. I feel like I know him enough to believe he won't kill me and leave my body in a ditch.

  "I'll take you to get your Jeep tomorrow."

  "Thank you," I say as I get out of the car, locking it up.

  Kane takes my hand quickly, like he's scared I will change my mind if we wait too long. He pulls me down the dark alley to where a motorcycle is parked by a dumpster. He pushes a helmet over my head, fastening it for me. I climb on after him.

  "We need to beat the rain, so hold on tight," he says over his shoulder.

  I wrap my arms around Kane's body and breathe in the smell of leather. The city flashes by and the cool air whipping on my skin cools me down. The streets are empty this time in the early morning, and it's like we have the city to ourselves. We zip into the parking garage of our building and Kane helps me off the bike.

  "Thank you," I say, handing him the helmet.

  We get onto the empty elevator in silence. I hit the button for our floor and look up at Kane.

  The doors close as he approaches me. His large hands grasp the sides of my face and his lips crash onto mine, making me gasp.

  They are soft and hard. Demanding but giving. Hot and needy.

  Powerful and intoxicating.

  I moan into his mouth, giving him the access he wants. I taste his tongue as it tangles with mine. The natural high I had all night intensifies. Kane pushes me roughly to the back wall like he wants to keep me from floating away. I push my body to his, loving the pressure of being crushed by him.

  Something needy is clawing at me from the inside, wanting more. His taste, the way he feels against me, it's all pushing me toward something uncontrollable. My head spins with surprise and lust.

  It's a heavy mixture that drowns me until the doors slide open and lets the harsh hallway light flood in. I blink as Kane slowly pulls back. We are both breathing hard and I grin, knowing that he's affected just as much as I am. The doors go to shut again and Kane steps away from me to stop them. The moment is broken.

  The sound of thunder outside reminds me of my sister inside. I walk past him and down the hall. I can hear him close behind as we stop at my door.

  "Thanks for the ride," I say. In the harsh light of this faded hallway, the haze of power and strength melt away slowly. I'm slowly coming back down to Earth.

  "See you around, Brooklyn." He slowly backs away with his know-it-all smile.

  SEVEN

  London

  I stare blankly at Brooklyn while she plays on her phone like she didn't just tell me what I think she did.

  "Our car is where?" I ask again, even though I heard her the first time.

  "The club." Her sigh is the only indication I'm annoying the hell out of her. Otherwise she looks like she didn't just render me screwed for the day.

  "I have a shoot today, Brooklyn." I'm trying to sound calm but the shake in my voice is there. I don't like my plans getting thrown off course. My sister manages to completely derail them and turn them into a tragic train wreck on a regular basis.

  "Have Miles take you," she says simply, taking a sip of her coffee.

  "I can't," I sigh. "He kissed me and now things are kinda weird. I'm avoiding him."

  Coffee sprays on my shirt and the counter.

  "Repeat that?"

  I pull my wet shirt over my head and glare at her. I liked that shirt.

  "Miles kissed me so now I don't want to call him and ask for a ride."

  Brooklyn grabs another shirt from the basket of laundry that sits on the couch, still unfolded, and tosses it to me.

  "He actually kissed you? What did you do?"

  "What do you think I did? I got all quiet and awkward until he said let's forget that it happened."

  I'm exhausted and disappointed. I'm disappointed in myself and the way things are turning out. I still have no idea what I'm doing any more than I did my last night back home.

  I wanted a new life but I can't help feeling I'm living in a shadow of the old one. No matter how far I run, I'm still me.

  "Miles isn't going anywhere, whether he kissed you or not, so don't get all worked up about it. It doesn't need to be weird. You guys don't have to change, but you don't have to stay the same either."

  "Can we chat about this later tonight? I need to catch a bus."

  "Sure. I’ll see if Kane will take me later to get the Jeep. I need to crash before I fall over," Brooklyn says as she stumbles to her bedroom.

  I grab my bags and phone and yank open the door, jumping back in surprise when I find Kane standing on the other side of it. He squints as he looks at my face, then his gaze travels down my body.

  I'm struck with nerves because he looks and smells so good. With his leather jacket and sunglasses propped on his head, he looks the perfect bad boy. Totally Brooklyn's type. He is the kind of guy I watch from afar and read about late at night. Kane is the type of guy who goes for my sister, never the good girl.

  "London?" He's not really sure. They always try to make it sound like a statement but it has that tone that makes your name sound like a question, laced with a hint of worry that they're wrong.

  "Yeah. Brooklyn just passed out and I wouldn't wake her if I were you. I'm heading out for a shoot that I'm already late for," I say trying to push past him.

  I wanted to get photos of the sailboats launching for the race in the marina. No one is actually expecting me, but my own schedule is just as important as everyone else's.

  "I actually came to see if I could take you to your Jeep," Kane says, clearing his throat. "I put gas in it this morning."

  "She let it run out of gas?" I growl. "I told her it was low, and you know what? I should have just stopped for gas myself."

  Kane stares at me expectantly. His black hair is wet like he just got out of the shower. I can smell his soap mixed with the scent of gasoline.

  "You want a ride or what?"

  "Yes," I say with a sigh. "Thank you. I'll pay you back for the gas."

  I step out into the hall but he blocks me, invading my personal space. I look up at him confused. He offered a ride, right?

  "Shirt?"

  I glance down and notice my pink lace bra. In my hand, I still clutch the shirt Brooklyn tossed to me after she spit her coffee all over me.

  "I'm always going to be an awkward disaster, aren't I?"

  I drop my bags and pull my shirt over my head as he laughs. It's deep and comforting. Something tells me he doesn't laugh often because it sounds rusty and unused. Kane grabs my discarded camera bags and leads me down the hall. I notice he has bags similar to mine.

  "You're a photographer?" I ask.

  "Not professionally, but I take photos," he answers as we enter the elevator.

  "Cryptic," I mutter.

  "I'm a private investigator. My photos are for evidence," he explains. "What are your photos for?"

  He asks me like it's a test question and I'm being graded. I feel like there's a right and wrong answer here, but I don't know what.

  "Whatever I get paid for. Memories mostly. Sometimes for art. Some selfies just for fun."

  He laughs again but it's not his amused laugh from before. This is forced and sarcastic. I glare up at him as the doors open and we step into the lobby.

  "So weddings, proms, stuff like that?"

  "Yeah." I feel like I answered wrong but it's my only answer. "They are moments in someone's life they want to remember forever. When I hand over photos of a wedding, they can always go back and look at the love they shared."

  "Yeah, for that day. Then a year or so later, I hand them photos that show how they broke all those vows they made that day by banging their younger secretary or the nanny."

  "That'
s just depressing and cynical."

  Our footsteps echo in the garage as we approach a black SUV. Kane throws my bags in the back with his and opens the door for me.

  "But it's the truth."

  "Maybe for some," I argue once Kane is behind the wheel. "Not all couples end in divorce."

  "That's not because they are in love."

  "Then why?"

  Kane looks over at me once we are moving with the morning traffic.

  "A thousand other reasons. Money, convenience, mutual enjoyment. Sex."

  I shake my head in frustration.

  "You and Brooklyn are perfect for each other. She is just as distrusting as you are."

  Kane winks and shrugs. I watch as he drives. He looks relaxed without a worry. Not for the first time, I envy Brooklyn. The way she can relax and throw caution to the wind astounds me. Kane is just like her. They don't think about every consequence and outcome. If they do, they don't care. They just live.

  Brooklyn can get away with it because I am the opposite. While she's the balloon floating to the sky, I'm the tethered string that holds her from disappearing in the sky.

  "What about your brother and his fiancée? They looked in love," I ask, turning in my seat to look at him.

  He sighs and turns down a narrow alley, parking in a lot behind a dreary building.

  "I think he's happy right now. Amanda makes him happy for now. That's all that matters. We can't worry about the future all the time or we forget to live in the present."

  I stare at him like he just grew another head. My voice is almost shrill when I formulate words.

  "What do you mean we can't worry about the future? Isn't that what we all we strive for, the future? If you don't worry about it then it's just chaos and madness." I throw my hands in the air when he starts to laugh at me.

  "If you're too busy worrying about the future, you can't live in the present."

  I fold my arms across my chest. I can't argue with this man. If Kane was a color he would be dark gray. Like charcoal. Graphite. The color of a pencil lead. It isn't dark enough to be black but I don't see enough light.