*
Nicki’s eyes scanned the crowd, slightly unfocused, catching vague physical outlines and smudges of color. She never looked at their faces, never. It made it too personal, too real. If she didn’t look into their eyes, then they weren’t real people, and she wasn’t really doing this. It was just a job, a means to an end. To find the rats you had to spend some time in the sewer.
Most of the time she picked well, but there were other times she was not quite so adept. Like that psycho the night before. He’d seemed so normal; just another guy out for a little naughty fun. Medium brown hair, average build, casually but well dressed. He seemed safe enough.
At least until he touched her. Then suddenly he seemed much bigger, much stronger than he first appeared, and she saw the touch of madness in his eyes. That’s when her blood began to run cold and her skin crawled. The man grabbed her ass hard and ground into her, his rancid breath nearly suffocating her as he told her all the things he was going to do to her.
And there had been nothing she could do about it, not without blowing her cover. She’d thought security would be on the guy right away, but they weren’t. They told the boss later they hadn’t realized the extent of the situation. Nick was there within seconds of seeing her face, though, pushing through the crowd to get to her, and Nicki heard the sickening crunch even before the guy’s strangled scream. That caught the security guys’ attention, and they took care of things from there, but the damage was done.
Afterward, when they were all called into the manager’s office, she played her part well, pretending it was difficult to speak coherently. Not that it mattered in the end. The night manager seemed more concerned with the fallout than anything else. Nick was banned from the premises for disorderly conduct and she was reprimanded for inciting the situation and not following proper procedure.
Assholes.
The owner, at least, took the situation more seriously, taking the time to speak with her before her shift. Unlike the night manager, he seemed like a decent guy. He apologized for what happened, and for not being there personally to handle the matter. He also said that Nick was welcome anytime – just not while she was performing. The security guys were reamed out for not being on top of things, and she was assured they would be watching more closely from now on.
Those assurances eased her anxiety somewhat, but she’d learned a long time ago that a man’s word wasn’t worth shit. Nicki wasn’t sure what happened with the douche bag manager, but he wasn’t anywhere to be found tonight. Maybe he’d been fired, or at least reassigned to weeknights. There was some small measure of satisfaction in that, at least.
Hoping tonight would not be a repeat, she locked herself somewhere safe inside her own mind and let her body go, telling herself that it was just a job, nothing more. This was a necessary evil, part of the role she had to play to get what she’d come here for. She’d done a lot worse for a lot less in her lifetime. But even as the lights and the music changed, signaling the interactive portion of the show, another tiny part of her soul died. Again. She wondered how much more she had left.
The sight of a crisp hundred dollar bill raised in the air caught her attention. It almost made what she was about to do worthwhile. Almost. She didn’t need the money anymore, but growing up in the streets having to struggle for everything was deeply ingrained in her psyche. She took a deep breath and reminded herself why she was here.
God, how she hated this. Just like most of the other women who worked here. Some were putting themselves through school. Others were trying to feed and clothe their kids. One or two actually liked it, but they were definitely the exceptions.
She wouldn’t be doing this forever, she reminded herself. Only as long as she had to and not a minute more. This, too, would soon pass and she’d be off to whatever was next. Hopefully it would be something that wouldn’t warrant scrubbing herself in the shower for a good thirty minutes in scalding water afterwards, even though she knew the dirtiness she felt could not be washed away.
Maybe, after this, she’d disappear for a while, someplace out in the middle of nowhere where she could be alone and chuck her finger at the rest of the world. Until then, she would shut the hell up and make the best of what she had.