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Fighting For Your Love (The Fighting Series Book 4) by Nikki Ash (3)


 

Ashley

 

I get to Double D’s and find Don, one of the two owners of the club, hence the D in his name, and ask if I can speak to him.

“Sure, honey. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if there’s any way I could have some more nights.”

“Honey, we have talked about this. I don’t have any openings. Unless a girl quits or gets fired I am maxed out on hours.”

“What if I danced? I have taken pole dancing lessons for years.”

He shakes his head at me. “Ashley, I would put you up as a dancer in a heartbeat but the women who have been dancing here longer get first dibs. If you would have come to me six months ago you know I would have moved you to the stage but right now my lineup is full.”

Yeah well, the problem is six months ago I didn’t need the money like I do now…

Four months ago…

There’s a knock on my door. A quick glance at the clock on the microwave showing ten o’clock pm tells me it’s too late for anybody to be coming over. Kaden did leave a little bit ago… he probably forgot something. I swing open the door, immediately going to slam it shut when I see who is standing there. It’s definitely not Kaden. What the hell was I thinking not looking out the window to see who was there? His foot catches in the door and then his fingers wrap around the edge pushing it open.

When he gets inside, I look closely at the man who walked out the door almost six years ago, only he doesn’t quite look like the same man. He is a bit skinnier, his clothes are rattier looking, and his eyes are bloodshot like he’s high on something. It looks like he has been through hell and back.

“What do you want?” I whisper-yell not wanting to wake Tristan up.

“I want to see our son.”

“He’s not our son. He’s my son. You gave up your rights the day you walked out.”

“That’s not what his birth certificate says.”

“What the hell do you want, Tyler?”

“I’m broke. I need money and you are going to give it to me.”

“Are you fucking serious? Do you not remember what you did to me when you left? All the debt you left me in! I have to work nights on top of teaching kindergarteners all day just to keep up and pay off the maxed-out credit cards you racked up when you pretended to pay the bills, only to use my hard-earned income to feed your gambling addiction!”

He grabs me by my shirt and shoves me roughly up against the wall. “Listen here, you fucking cunt; I have a right to see my son. Either you give me money or I will take him away and you will never see him again.” His voice sounds so cold and menacing. What happened to the guy I met in my senior year of college? The guy who took me on romantic dates and told me he loved me at the top of the Eiffel Tower experience. That guy is clearly gone and I am starting to wonder if he ever really existed or if it was all just a front.

“Don’t do this, please. I don’t have any money to give you!”

“I will sign over my rights to our son for thirty grand.”

“Where the hell do you think I am going to get that kind of money?”

“You live in Las Vegas! There are plenty of loan sharks. Figure it out. I’ll be back tomorrow. If you don’t have my money, I can promise you our son will disappear. I am sure a six-year old boy goes for much more than thirty grand on the black market.”

He lets go of my shirt and stalks out of the door slamming it behind him causing me to jump.

I pull out my phone and text Don. If anybody knows where to find someone to lend me money it would be him. I’ve overheard all the shady shit he’s dealt with over the years.

Me: Where can I go to borrow a large amount of money?

Don: How much we talking?

Me: $30,000

Don: Damn woman! Do I even want to know?

Me: No, you don’t.

Don: Go to Giovanni Valentino. He owns a Gentleman’s Club about thirty minutes outside of LV. Tell him I sent you. But Ashley be sure about this. He only takes one kind of collateral…

Me: Which is?

Don: Women

I’m not sure what the hell he means by that but I need this money so I’ll just have to figure it out. I can’t take the chance of Tyler coming back and stealing Tristan from me. I’ll deal with any loan shark’s demands if it means keeping my son safe.

He texts me the address and I text him back thanking him. After calling in sick for tomorrow, I double check all the locks on the doors and windows. Then grabbing my pillow and blanket, I go to sleep on the floor next to Tristan’s bed. I’m not taking any chances.

The next morning after dropping Tristan off at school, I head to the address listed. The GPS says it’s a half an hour away, so I use the drive to build up my courage to beg for the money. When I get to the said address I see a beautiful sign that reads “La Stella.” As I drive down the long-graveled road, the most exquisite picturesque mansion comes into view. It must be three stories tall made of brick and Mortar. While it looks to be generations old with old style Church windows throughout with chimneys in several areas, it has a certain modern charm to it. It’s absolutely breathtaking. I pull up to the large U-shape driveway and see several expensive cars parked along the side. I follow their lead and park on the edge of the drive as well, my beat-up car sticking out like a sore thumb.

Approaching the massive size wooden front door, I take a couple deep breaths gaining the courage to knock, when the door opens with a gentleman who looks to be only a tad bit older than me, maybe in his thirties. He is in a three-piece suit and not at all shocked to see me standing in front of the door.

“Good morning, how may I help you?”

“I am here to see Giovanni Valentino. Don sent me.”

“I’ll let him know you are here. And your name is?”

“Ashley… Ashley Myers.”

He opens the door wider, signaling for me to enter, then leaves me standing in the foyer to, I assume let Giovanni know I am here to see him. From what I can see, the inside is even more beautiful than the outside. To my left is a tall brick fireplace that expands from floor to ceiling. The fire is on and crackling giving it a homey vibe. Wood beams run across the ceilings and in front of the fireplace are a couple of brown leather couches. There is a man sitting on the couch drinking what looks like a scotch and sitting on his lap is a gorgeous woman wearing what looks like nothing more than a scrap of lingerie. She must feel my eyes on her because she turns to face me, giving me a small smile. Her makeup is done to perfection and she’s even more beautiful than I originally thought. I give her a small smile before she turns her attention back to the man she is with.

“How can I help you?” Another man walks over, dressed just as nice as the gentleman who let me in, only this guy runs his piercing blue eyes up and down my body, assessing me.

“I’m here to see Giovanni Valentino. Are you him?”

“I’m his assistant. How can I help you?”

“I need to see him.”

He glares at me for a second but nods his head walking away. A few minutes later he returns.

“He will see you.” The man with the piercing blue eyes says now signaling for me to follow him. I look for the gentleman who let me in and notice he is back to standing near the door. Is his entire job to open the door?

We head in the opposite direction of the man and woman who were cozying it up near the fireplace. There’s a small bar to the right with a younger gentleman wiping down the bar counter. He gives me a curt nod and I give him a small wave. We reach a long hallway and at the end, the man knocks once and then opens the door.

“Boss, Ashley Myers.”

“Thank you. You can close the door behind you.”

I walk into the room and I am faced with one of the most beautiful men I have ever seen. Brown hair that is gelled to the side with matching dark brown eyes. He has stubble on his face that looks like he hasn’t shaved in maybe a day or two. He is dressed in a suit that fits him to perfection with no tie, the top three buttons open showing a hint of a tattoo peeking through. It makes me want to ask him what the tattoo is of.

He stands and I notice he’s tall, at least six foot with wide shoulders; he definitely works out. He gestures to the chairs in front of his desk for me to have a seat, his face showing no sign of any type of emotion.

After we both sit down, he asks, “How may I help you?” Ok, I guess we are going to bypass all pleasantries and get down to it.

 “I need a loan for thirty thousand dollars and I was told by Don you could help me.” I make sure to sound sure of myself. I don’t want this guy to think I am scared shitless.

“Hmm… Did he now. Did he tell you what I accept for collateral?”

“Yes, women.” I choke out.

“So, you understand if at any time, you can’t pay me back the set monthly payment you will be required to work it off here at my Gentleman’s Club?”

Ok, so I guess that’s what he means by women. I wonder what he makes a man do if he doesn’t pay him back. Something tells me I don’t want to know the answer.

“Yes, I do.”

“If Don is sending you to me then I am sure you are legit but I will still need to run a background check. Anything you need to tell me?”

“No, I am in debt but that’s it.”

“Ok, as long as your background check comes back ok, I will loan you the money. First, we will need to sign some paperwork.”

“Like a contract? What do you think I am going to do? Take you to court?”

He chuckles softly and points at me. “You got sass to you. Would you like to work here? I have quite a few guys that would be fond of you. You could make a lot more money than thirty grand in less amount of time.” His statement sends chills down my spine.

“No, thank you.”

“To answer your question. No, the contract is not for court. It’s for my records and for yours. When the loan is paid off, we will both sign off on it.”

“Ok.”

He types on his phone and a minute later the man who escorted me back here, walked back in..

“Boss.”

“Johnny, run Ms. Myers’ credit and if all is clear, put together the paperwork for a loan for thirty thousand with a twenty percent interest.”

“Oh, my God! Twenty percent?! It’s going to take me forever to pay that off!”

“You better hope not because you only have eighteen months to pay it back.”

Holy shit! I can’t do that kind of math in my head but I know that monthly payment is going to require me to get another job.

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“No.” I shake my head. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure Tristan is safe and Tyler is out of our lives for good. “You will have your money.”

Johnny comes back a few minutes later with the paperwork and asks for my driver’s license to make a copy of it. After we are done signing all the paperwork and Giovanni lets me know how much I owe by the end of each month, he asks me how I would like the money.

“Um, cash please.”

“That’s a lot of money to be walking around with. Are you sure you don’t want it wired to your account?”

“No, I need it in cash, please,” I insist. I need to give Tyler this money so he can be out of my life for good. He gives me a quick nod, a small frown marring his face. It’s the first emotion he has shown since I walked in the door, and even upset he really is freaking gorgeous.

“Ashley, please remember you are now dealing with the big boys. You don’t pay me back my money and you will belong to me.”

“I understand.”

Since the day he handed me the thirty thousand dollars, which I then handed over to Tyler, I have done everything in my power to pay back the obscene amount of money every month but the problem is, in order to pay Giovanni back it means my other bills are going on the back burner. My mortgage is behind, my credit cards I finally got under control are not being paid, and meals like spaghetti and meatballs have become a luxury. But I can’t regret my decision because Tyler did in fact sign over his rights to Tristan and walked out the door, once again not looking back.

Now it’s the end of May and I am short on my payment for the month. If I could just pick up a couple extra shifts I know I could make it.

“I have some good news,” Don says pulling me out of my own head. “Charlotte called out; she had several private parties scheduled. You can pick up her shift along with your waitressing shift. You’re going to have to bust ass but you will make good money tonight.”

“Thank you! I will handle it!” I give Don a huge hug causing him to laugh. “Go get ready, Ashley.”

The changing room for the dancers is utter chaos at all times. Girls are changing outfits, putting on makeup, doing their hair, and usually bickering with each other over sections and men. It also permanently smells of aerosol and burnt hair, which makes me gag every time I step foot into the room. Since I only waitress, I am usually in and out in two minutes, simply putting my purse and keys in a locker. I’m not big on makeup and the waitresses are required to wear the standard Double D’s tank top and black shorts, so I come in ready to work.

Tonight, however, I am going to need an outfit for dancing. I am going through the rack the owners provide and it is severely lacking. The girls who dance on a regular basis bring their own outfits since the ones the club provides are crap. If I had known I would get to work a private party tonight, I would’ve tried to pick something up on my way in.

I find the best possible outfit and cringe when I hold it up knowing this is my only option. It’s an ugly purple body suit that buttons down the front and underneath, and has purple and silver sequins around the neckline. Gag!

Just as I am about to accept I have no choice but to put this horrendous outfit on, clothing is thrown my way, hitting me in the face.

“I heard you are covering for Charlotte tonight.” I look over and see Savannah grinning my way. I met her when I first started waitressing here and we hit it off immediately. She is your cliché stripper, dancing her way through college. She is now going through her master’s program, and with the money she makes, she is completely debt free. What I would give to be debt free!

“You are a life saver!” I run over and give her a hug and kiss on the cheek. “You are seriously saving me right now!”

“You’re lucky I love you, bitch. Now let’s get some makeup on you. We need you looking scandalous so you can bring in some dough tonight.”

First, Savannah straightened my hair, making it pin straight and putting some oil in it to make it shine. Next, she darkened around my eyes with coal giving me the perfect smoky eyes. Then she applied a couple coats of mascara giving my lashes extra volume, and finally, she handed me baby pink lip gloss that made my lips look wet and shiny.

Once she was all done making me over, I put on the dress she gave me. It’s all white with a black strip going across the chest. It’s low up top and short on the bottom and the entire dress from the chest down is completely see through. Underneath I am wearing black mini scrunch panties and a matching black lace bra. The bra and panties are mine and luckily, I put my good ones on tonight!

“Damn, Ash! You look hot tonight,” Desiree, another dancer, says as she smacks my ass playfully. I look in the mirror and she is right, I do look hot. Between the professional looking makeup, sleeked to perfection hair, and the beautiful black and white seamless net dress, I look damn good.

“Thanks! Let’s hope I look good enough to make some money.”

“Ladies, club is open! Let’s go,” the bouncer calls into the dressing room.

All the women file out and head to their destinations. When the women who dance aren’t on stage, they walk around and offer lap dances to the men sitting at the tables. Some guys will buy a dance and some will go a step further and ask for a private room. Dances and private rooms are where the money is at. This club, like most other clubs, don’t allow guys to put cash on the stage like it is depicted in the movies.

We get to the floor and a Britney jam is beating through the speakers. You won’t find a strip club that doesn’t play her at some point or another; the woman makes music that is meant to be danced to. I go to my section and greet my assigned tables asking them what they would like to drink since I have to work my waitressing shift on top of Charlotte’s shift. After bringing their orders back to the table, I head to my first private party of the night.

 

It’s eleven pm, and my feet are killing me, but I have made more money in the last couple hours than I did during my last few shifts combined! And I still have one more private party to do.

“Ashley, your private party is in room five,” Dean the other half of Double D’s says.

“Thank you.”

A private party is exactly what it sounds like here. It’s a group of guys who pay extra money to have a stripper dance privately for them instead of them sitting at a table and watching on the main stage. I never thought my pole dancing lessons would come in handy but they have. People assume pole dancing is just wrapping your legs around a pole and grinding on it, and while for some that is what happens; here, you need to know what you are doing to be hired as a dancer. Don and Dean will not hire amateurs.

Now don’t get me wrong, is this place upscale and classy? Hell no, it’s not! The guys are sleazy and there are no real rules other than not being allowed to touch the dancer on stage, and that’s only because it would cause fights to break out. But in Las Vegas you need to know what you are doing because otherwise every girl who has seen Showgirls will think they can just show up here, grind on a pole, and have tons of money thrown at them. The truth is if you can’t dance properly, the men and other women will eat you alive, so you better know what the hell you are doing.

After switching on Body Party by Ciara, I walk into the room using the backdoor that leads to the mini stage. The lights are turned down and the low light above the stage is just enough to focus on the dancer and allow me to dance without seeing who is watching. It helps me to pretend I am dancing in one of my classes for fun as opposed to dancing in front of a bunch of horny men for money. The only difference is, here my clothes end up coming off, whereas in my class, they stay on.

I make my way to the pole and after walking once around it, hook the inside of my arm around it. Then, I hook the inside of my leg around the front and with a little hop, I begin my routine with a front hook spin. I slowly come down and shift into a knee bridge, which is what it sounds like, my knees are both on the ground while my back arches into a bridge. Pretending the men aren’t looking at my thong covered lady parts, I push back into a shoulder bridge by lifting my ass up into the air and bringing my shoulders down. From there, I roll backwards and end up back on the bar.

As I continue my choreographed moves on and around the pole, little by little my clothing is removed. First, it’s my top; then my bra is removed. Finally, the last article of clothing removed is my shorts. While many strippers choose to remove all their clothes including their panties, I have made the choice not to. I am sure if I did, it would earn me more money but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Only one man has seen that private area of my body and it’s Tristan’s father. The next man to see it will hopefully be making love to me. I just can’t bring myself to let some horny strangers see me completely vulnerable like that.

When the song ends along with the routine, I gather up my bra and put it back on, leaving the dress off. Then I walk down the steps leading to the tables situated in front of the small stage. There are several men in their thirties sitting together clapping for me. I make sure to add an extra sway to my hips as I approach the men.

“And who is the man of the hour?” I ask attempting to add an extra little bit of sexiness to my voice.

One guy raises his hand. “It’s my birthday, darling.”

I walk over to him, sit down on his lap sideways, and give him a wink. “Happy birthday, handsome. What can I get you gentleman to drink, tonight?” They each give me their order one by one and when I get to the last guy I notice he is assessing me harsher than the others, like he is confused about something.

“What can I get for you?”

“Do you teach at Old Creek Elementary?”

My pen falls out of my hand as I stand frozen in place.

“You are my son’s teacher,” he says.

“Yes, I do,” I say softly. He stands up and taking me gently by my arm, walks me to the corner of the room.

“I’m thinking, by the look of shock you gave me, the school district doesn’t know one of their Kindergarten teachers is a stripper.”

“I don’t usually strip; I am filling in for someone tonight, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“Absolutely, on one condition; you give me a private show.”

Is this guy serious right now? Of course, it would be my luck I would run into a father of one of my students on the one night I’m doing more than waitressing.

“OK, let me get everybody their drinks and I will see which private room is available.”

I put my order into the bar and then seek out Ryan. He is the bouncer tonight and oversees the rooms.

“Hey Ryan, do you have a private room available? I only need it for like thirty minutes.”

He gives me a questioning look. He has known me for years and not once have I ever asked for a private room.

“Room four is available.”

“Thanks.”

After going back to the bar to grab the guys’ drinks, I let the guy who asked for the private dance know he can meet me in room four in five minutes, I just need to check on my other tables.

Once I walk into the room, I spot him sitting on the couch ready for me. I put Here I am by Rick Ross on the speakers and begin the lap dance without saying a word. My moves are robotic and stiff, yet still sexual as I circle around the couch dancing. Once I get back in front of him, I rub up against his body then sit on top of his lap finishing the dance. He doesn’t once try to touch me, which kind of surprises me, but makes it more bearable. When the song is over the room goes silent as I climb off him.

“My name is Eric, Chris’s dad.” I think for a moment and know I have met Chris’s mom. I also know she is married to Chris’s dad.

“Nice to meet you. I appreciate you not saying anything about my working here.”

I flick the switch to the iPod dock off. “You ready to head back to your friends?”

“Who said we were done here?”

“You asked for a private show and I gave you one.”

“Did you really think when I said private show I meant you dancing for me? I meant I want to fuck you.”

I let out a soft gasp. “I don’t do that. I’m sorry.”

I walk to the door and open it silently making it clear he needs to leave.

“You sure about that?” The question sounds more like a threat.

“Yes, I am.”

He nods once, stands up, and walks out the door. When he gets to the room where his friends are, he says, “I suggest you rethink your stance on my offer before the end of the night. You might regret it if you don’t.”

I don’t rethink his offer and as their party comes to a close, I can see the silent threat Eric gives me. I have to hope that it’s an empty threat.

 

It’s two in the morning and I am more than ready to go home. After changing out of Savannah’s borrowed outfit and giving it back to her, I count my money. I have made almost enough to pay Giovanni this month’s payment.

My house is dark when I quietly walk through the door aside from the faint light glowing under the microwave. I see Kaden on the couch, sleeping with the remote still in his hand. The TV is still on and it casts a light on him. He looks beautiful. But what makes him beautiful isn’t just his looks. He is beautiful on the inside and out. Black hair that is just long enough that you can run your fingers through it and mess it up, and his hair always looks like it’s a perfect mess. His eyes are currently closed but when they are open, they are the most amazing shade of bright green. They remind me of my birthstone, emerald. They pop against his lightly tanned skin. His body is ripped; I am talking six pack of abs, ripped. Not overly muscular, but healthy and perfect. And he’s my best friend. He has been there for me this last year, providing me a shoulder to cry on as well as an ear to listen without judgement. He can be a total goof but he can also be downright sweet and serious when he needs to be. Him and Tristan have grown close these last several months, and I am thankful that Kaden can provide a good, male role model for my son.

“Hey there.” I softly touch his cheek causing him to stir awake.

“Hey,” he answers groggily stretching out. His voice is raspy from sleep and I can imagine him saying my name in that same voice… Abort! Abort! No thinking about how my name sounds coming out of Kaden’s mouth!

“I’m home. Thank you for watching Tristan. Was he good?”

Kaden grabs my arm and pulls me into his side giving my temple a quick kiss. “He’s always good. Although, he did kick my ass in the UFC fighter game on his PlayStation. How was work?”

“It was good.” I lean in closer to Kaden enjoying for a second the safety I feel when I’m close to him.

“Are you getting the extra hours you were hoping for?”

“No, I’m not. But a girl called out so I got to take over her tables. I made some extra money. It was a good night.”

“That’s good, Ash.” Kaden stands up, then taking my hands in his, pulls me up to a standing position as well.

“You spending the night?” I ask.

He gives me a look that tells me I am an idiot for even asking. “Of course, I am. Don’t I always?”

“Well, I don’t know what you had planned. Maybe you had to put off plans with one of your black book girls to babysit Tristan for me last minute.”

He just shakes his head laughing, as he guides me down my hallway. We stop at Tristan’s room and I walk in to give him a quick kiss and pull up his blanket. “Love you, little man.”

After changing into my pajamas, we get into bed and within minutes Kaden is back to sleep. I watch him for a little while thanking God for him being in my life. Him and Tristan are without a doubt the bright lights in the pitch-black darkness that I am surrounded by these days. I don’t know what I would do without Kaden in our life, and I don’t ever want to find out.

 

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