He clucked his tongue. “Yeah, it turns out, I don’t give a damn what you think. Save your concern for one of your friends.” He pointed a finger gun at me and squeezed an eye shut like he was aiming. “Bring me the cash in the morning. Any later than ten, I’ll take a trip out to The Palisades with a gas can.” He pulled the finger trigger. “You feel me, Hells Belles?”
The barbed wire in my throat wrapped around my lungs. The Palisades was the ironic name for the broke-down trailer park I grew up in. I didn’t want to believe Amir would burn it down, but I was smart enough not to test him.
“I feel you, Amir.”
I slipped away from the wall, hurrying back to the sidewalk in front of my dorm. Amir caught me by the arm and swung me back around, his face slashed with quiet fury.
“That’s not how this works. You don’t walk away from me until I’m done with you,” he gritted out.
I yanked at my arm, but his hand was clamped down tight. Panic stirred in my gut. It was irrational. It was broad daylight and plenty of people were milling around. But I hated being grabbed and held. It brought back bad memories I kept carefully stored away.
Someone came to a stop beside us. “Excuse me.”
Amir and I both turned our attention to the frowning blonde. Elena Sanderson had her hands on her cocked hips, her attention shifting from Amir’s grip on my arm to my eyes.
“Go away, Elena.” I didn’t like the girl, but no way was I getting her mixed up with Amir.
She rolled her eyes. “I just wanted to say there are no psycho boyfriends allowed in the suite. Clearly, the person currently manhandling you has severe mental health issues that drive him to commit violence against a girl half his size. While you may be into being battered and bruised by the male variety, it’s my personal inclination to call the authorities when I witness such things.” She drew her phone from her pocket and tapped out 9-1-1. “Since you don’t seem willing to help yourself, I’ll be happy to take matters into my own hands. I’ll also add, you have terrible taste in men, Helen, if this guy is your idea of a good time. He is hot, but no doubt he’d look hotter in handcuffs.”
Amir’s grip on me had loosened during Elena’s whacked-out speech. I tugged my arm free and moved a foot away from him. This brought me beside Elena. I wasn’t sure she was a better choice, but I’d take my chances—especially since I was pretty sure she was helping me in her weird, evil Elena Sanderson way.
Amir tipped his chin at me, then turned and sauntered in the other direction without another word. Inside, I was sighing with relief, but I kept myself upright, covered in armor, unaffected.
Elena gave me a long once-over. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but if you say no, I might feel inclined to comfort you, and no one wants that.”
I snorted. “Thanks for not asking then.”
She hesitated. “I’m assuming that man won’t be around again.”
I couldn’t promise that. He was Amir, and he did what he wanted. “Probably not.”
“Well,” she held up her phone, “I’ll keep the police on speed dial. It seems like the wisest course with a roommate with your type of...connections.”
Needing an out, I tossed my skateboard on the ground. “You do that, Elena.” I pushed off, leaving her and my dorm behind.
If only I could skate away from the wildfire that was my life. Every time I got a handle on it, another spark spread it wider. One day, hopefully soon, I’d be able to breathe without constantly putting out fires. Today just wasn’t that day.
Chapter Six
Helen
On the floor of the dressing room at work, I counted out a thick stack of bills. It looked like a lot, but it was mostly ones. The sight of the cash filled me with relief and sickness. But I kept counting. It was what I did: moved on, did what needed to be done to survive, no dwelling.
Carina sat down across from me, kicking off her platform heels. “How much, girlie?”
“I’m not done, but it looks like a little less than nine hundred,” I answered.
She whistled. “Girl, you know you’d make bank in the private rooms.”
I shook my head. “I know, but I can’t. If a dude got handsy—which we both know they do, don’t try to tell me otherwise—I’d be carted out of here in cuffs. I don’t have the disposition to let that shit slide.”
I worked at a strip club and had since the beginning of summer. Ninety-five percent of the time, I served drinks in booty shorts and a crop top. Tonight had been part of the five percent I tried not to think about.
The first time, I’d promised myself it was a one-time thing. I hated every second of taking my clothes off on stage. The jeers, the sweaty, frothing men staring at me…I felt disgusting the whole time. But I made a lot of money doing it—money I needed because of my poor excuse for a mother.
“I get that, babe. I guess I’m too good at detaching my brain from my body. It’s like it’s not even me they’re touching, you know?”
Carina was one of the few dancers I liked at Savage Beauties. The rest were catty bitches, but she was real and sweet for a tough girl. She had a kid she was raising on her own, and like me, she did what she had to do to survive. She was a bomb-ass dancer, with a fat ass and gorgeous tits, so she was rolling in green every night she worked. I liked serving in her section because her customers tended to be in happy, spendy moods.
“Tonight was desperation, C. I make enough to get by serving.” I tucked the cash in my purse and stretched my legs out in front of me. They were shiny with oil, and my toes were red from being stuffed into borrowed platforms a full size too small. “And maybe I don’t want to get to the point where I can detach from my body.”
She gave me a sad smile. “Yeah, I get that.” Then she nudged my leg. “No more blues tonight. You made some good money. You’ll be square with the scary dude. Take a victory lap.”
That made me laugh. Carina had lived through a lot of darkness and didn’t blink when I shared mine. She knew about Reno, Amir, my little sister, and my wretched mother. She’d even offered to front me the money I owed, but I couldn’t take it. Not when it was going toward building a life for her and her kid.
Besides, showing my tits and ass to a bunch of pervs didn’t kill me. It made me feel gross, but I was alive and mostly intact. I hoped like hell I could avoid a repeat performance, but I’d ride the pole again if I needed to. It was a strange comfort to know I always had that as backup.
I climbed to my sore feet and reached down to help Carina up. She took my hand, and we almost both went down when she wobbled on her sky-high heels.
“Thanks, boo.” She smacked a kiss on my cheek. “See you tomorrow night?”
“Yep.” I squeezed her bicep. “I’m out. Have a good night, love.”
It was a long bus ride home. In my suite, I scoured the oil and memories off my skin until I was raw, then climbed into Madeline’s old sheets, tucked them around me, and fell into an exhausted, dead-to-the-world sleep.
* * *