CHAPTER 26
CASSIE
The week passes quietly, for which I'm grateful. If Mark had showed up I'd have to pick up everything and move again, and I'm sick of moving. This is the longest I've been able to stay anywhere and it's nice. Well, for the most part it's nice. I look down at my bra and panty set, wishing that I didn't have to do this. I was so close, so fucking close to getting what I wanted. I had the perfect guy, the nice little house with a new car in the driveway, and then it all went to hell.
I'm not naïve anymore, I know I never had any of that stuff, but the illusion was nice while it lasted. Now, every moment is hell. If a creditor isn't hounding me for cash, then the repo guy is chasing me, trying to get my car, which is currently hidden in Mrs. McKinzey's garage. The sad part is that the mountain of debt isn't even mine, it's Mark's. I didn't do this, but I'm the one paying for it. I'm a college dropout, hiding in the 'hood, biding my time, so that I can earn enough money to get a second chance at life. Assuming I can avoid Mark in the meantime.
"Cassie, you're on stage next. Get out here!" I'm not Bruce's favorite person after last weekend, but he doesn't blame me. The boss found out, of course. The pictures in the paper made it clear that someone grabbed me, a Ferro, and that Bruce didn't or couldn't do his job. He would have been fired if I didn't speak up, but Bruce doesn't know that. I went to Jeff's office alone and explained to the owner that Bruce wasn't to blame. Jeff said I didn't get it, and still planned on firing his ass, so I said I'd pay Bruce's salary to give him another chance. The guy might be a thug, but he has a kid at home. I can't be the reason why he got fired, and if I wasn't the girl stripping that night, none of it would have happened.
The week is almost over. Maybe it was stupid, especially since Bruce has no idea who's paying his wages this week, but I can't be the reason someone falls apart. I already was once, and the mess I saw in Jon Ferro's eyes last weekend made me sick. I caused it, I know I did.
Yanking my garters in place, I dust myself with some glitter and head out to the stage. My entire outfit is cotton candy pink. It matches the pink room, the one spot in the club that isn't filled with wall to wall guys. There's usually a handful of men in there, because they are the only ones who can afford it. I feel better about taking my clothes off since I'll never see them again, and there aren't as many of them. Guys like that don't hang out at places like this. They tend to be the CEO types that had an argument with their perfect wife. They blow off steam down here, and then disappear again.
I enter the room from backstage and peer through the pale pink curtain. The entire area is champagne pink, with bits of sparkle. It looks hideous with the lights all the way up, but with flickering candlelight and a single spotlight on me, it has a serene feel. The music starts and I strut out on stage, moving my body to the music, not paying attention to who's out there. I never look at their faces. My eyes don't even connect with their bodies, usually gazing just above their heads. It makes it less real, like they aren't real people and I'm not really doing this. Eye contact shatters the illusion.
Bruce has his arms folded across his chest and watches me from the back of the room. His phone is out. He looks at the screen and smiles, before tucking it away. His kid took her first steps tonight and he's beaming, telling everyone, showing them the video of his little princess and her wobbly legs.
As I make my way to the pole, I glance around the room. There are only a couple of guys here tonight, which is weird for a weekend. They're both sitting away from the stage, back in the corners. I plaster a smile on my face and start my dance, thinking of Jonathan and the things I wish he'd done to me when we were younger. Sweat makes my body glisten as I work, splaying my legs, and rubbing my hands over my slick body with my eyes half closed. The bra comes off, and gets tossed to the side, showing my taut nipples. I swing on the pole, tossing my hair around, and breathing hard before stripping completely.
Then the show gets more intense. I touch places on my body that I shouldn't touch in public, while tossing my head back and staring at the ceiling. I reach above my head with my hands and stretch, forcing my breasts higher, and making my waist slimmer, before I push my ankles apart. My hands drift down my arms, to my head, following my long curls to my breasts, and then to the V in my legs. I gasp and wink, followed by a wicked smile. I hold the pose until the spot turns off.
The money is made in the next part of the night, but with only two guys, damn—I'll barely make enough money to pay Bruce. Beth is going to kill me if I don't clear at least my share of gas money. I slip back into my outfit and head out to the floor. Music pulses through the small room. I need to concentrate on what I'm doing because it takes a lot of finesse, but my mind keeps drifting to Jon.
I shove my life away, cramming it back into the back of my head as I approach a young man sitting in one of the corners. I don't look at his face, I never do.
"Hey, baby."
"Hey yourself," he says holding up a hundred dollar bill, which is the only kind of bill you can use in the pink room. There's an insanely high cover charge, which goes to the boss, but I get to keep the money I make on the floor. I take it from him and slip it into my G string. I don't look at his face as I work him over. He keeps handing me bills, so I stay and dance for him until he's done with me.
The music cues me back to the stage, where I do another striptease, this one much raunchier than the first. By the time I'm done, the gentlemen in the corner is gone, but two more have taken his place. They wave bills at me, but I pass them and head to the man who's been here since I stepped out on stage.
My thoughts roam to that secret place in the back of my mind where there are no emotions, just darkness and shadows. I don't want to think about what I'm doing or how I got here. Doing that is like dumping lighter fluid over my head. One spark will burn me to a crisp in a matter of seconds. No one starts out life this way. No girl ever dreams of being a stripper when she grows up, and thinking about what I am, what I've become, only makes it worse. So I don't think at all. I'm lost somewhere within my mind, where no one can touch me, where I'm safe.
"Hey, baby," I say, my eyes looking anywhere but his face.
"Hey, Cassie."
His voice jars me, slamming me back into reality with a deafening thud. Shivers course through my skin, freezing me in place as my heart explodes in my chest. "Jonathan?"