Emmitt was quiet, especially when it came to social situations. Football was one place that he could let go and be himself and not worry about his Tourette’s.
In school he had a hard time with his classmates, and since I was a year ahead of him, I wasn’t able to protect him all the time.
His Tourette’s manifested itself in the form of involuntary eye blinking called tics, so he often kept his head down and never looked people in the eye. My da, on numerous occasions when he was younger, had locked Emmitt in his room and forced him to practice keeping the tic “under control.”
But when he played football, the tic rarely happened, and I think that was partially why he loved it so much. It was the only place Emmitt felt like he was normal and didn’t have to hide who he was.
“Nice goal, Emmitt,” our dad shouted from the sidelines.
I didn’t expect him to say anything to me, and I didn’t give a shit. He’d always hated me and after twelve years of him ignoring me, I was accustomed to it.
Emmitt noticed it though and asked me once why Da never talked to me except to give me shit about something. I told him that Da and I were just different. But it was more than that.
When I’d asked my mom why Da didn’t like me, she’d dropped the dish she’d been reaching for and it had shattered on the floor. As she cleaned up the shards, I saw her hands shake and there were tears in her eyes.
“I love you, Killian,” she’d said. “Your da does, too. He just… has trouble showing it.”
It was a lie. I’d heard the hesitation in her soft voice. But it really didn’t matter anymore.
Emmitt was who mattered.
“Retard,” a kid from the opposing team muttered when he banged into Emmitt with his shoulder as he ran by.
Before I had the chance to go after the kid, Emmitt grabbed my forearm and shook his head. “It only makes it worse.”
I gritted my teeth. “He won’t say it again if I knock his teeth out.”
Emmitt jerked his chin to the sidelines where our dad stood. “Da doesn’t need another reason to be mean to you.”
I sighed. Emmitt had so much to be angry about, yet he wasn’t. He was nice to everyone.
“I don’t care about him, Emmitt. I care about you, and that kid deserves to have his ass kicked.”
“Then score a goal,” he said, smiling as he met my eyes.
I cuffed him on the shoulder. “Yeah. But if that kid gets near me, he is accidentally falling flat on his face.”
It was the same story. Emmitt never wanted anyone to hurt, but he was the one who suffered all the time for something he had no control over.
“Emmitt,” a kid yelled as he kicked the ball toward him.
We dove back into the game.
Saturday night. Trial night. I arrived early and went to try on some of the outfits, most of which were a bit snug in the hips. I had big hips. But I found a flowing white dance dress that reached my knees and flared out. It was chic. The waist was tight, but the material was stretchy so it left lots of room to dance in. It had a deep V-neckline with a scooped back and spaghetti straps.
By the time I dressed, Tammy, Shari, and Tab had arrived and were also changing. Music played and the beat vibrated through the room. I smiled. I loved loud music. The vibration filtered through me as if the instruments were being played on my body.
“You good, Hijack?” Tammy asked, leaning on the back of my chair and meeting my gaze in the mirror as I applied my red lipstick.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Okay, you’re taking cage two. That’s the one on the left of the stage. All new girls start there.”
“Okay, sure.”
“Greg will come get you when it’s time for a break. It’s Saturday, our busiest night, so the club is at full capacity. Do not leave the cage until one of the guys gets you. If you’re tired, slow your dancing. Customers like provocative so don’t worry if you can’t keep up with the music. Security guys are always watching the floor so you won’t have an issue getting their attention if you need it.” She straightened and smiled, resting her hand on my shoulder. “Most of all have fun. Customers know if you’re not having fun.”
“Got it.” I slipped on my mask.
There was a knock on the door and Shari skipped over. “Let’s hit it, girls.” She wore a ton of makeup, but it wasn’t distasteful, just dramatic, almost like a mask in itself.
Greg was at the door. He wore an earpiece and was in the usual garb, black pants and T-shirt with Compass written on it. “Ladies,” he said.
Shari, Tammy, and Tab shifted by him, all tapping him either on the chest or shoulder as they did.
I stood, and his eyes hit me. Greg was handsome, in a rugged sort of way. The scruff on his face, neat and sculpted, dark eyes that right now looked black, and a defined nose with a slight notch as if it had been broken a few times.
“You good?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He nodded.
I hesitantly walked toward him then stopped a foot away. “Listen, I’m sorry for the other night. That I took off. I was scared and well… I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“No reason to ever be scared at Compass. And next time you’re scared in here, you better be running to me, not away. Got it?”
I nodded.
Since he was tall, he bent at the waist to speak in my ear. “And I don’t get in trouble, Hijack. I am trouble.”
Jesus. His low graveled voice, words like that, he definitely was trouble. I half smiled because I thought he was teasing, but I wasn’t too sure because I really didn’t know him yet. But I liked that he was the one who made sure all the dancers were safe. I bet no one messed with him.
He escorted me to the cage, and I walked up the steps and into my dancing oasis for the night. Despite the platform having bars, it was at least twelve by twelve with plenty of room to move.
It was early, and the place was crowded but not yet packed. I could see the door from my vantage point, and there was a steady stream of patrons coming in.