By the time I exit the building, Hermes is beside me. He flips the next switch, igniting the entire condo atop an abandoned building on the outskirts of the Capitol in an extremely hot, aggressive fire. In one moment, we erase every potential link.
The SUV roars through the streets, Hermes at the wheel, as we begin the more than ten-hour drive to Chapelville, Tennessee.
Stormy
* * *
No matter how good the tips are or that we have a contract, I want to quit this job. When we first arrived in September, Javier was difficult, but he at least allowed us to be on the same schedule. Now, two months later, he’s even worse and still ignores that we’ve told him we have to work the same days since we only have one car.
He's started scheduling us on the same days but hours apart. Today I started three hours ago. I was here for the early dinner rush and will have to stay until eleven, while Maisy is working the closing shift. She started at seven and won’t get off until three in the morning. He thinks he can deter me from sticking around, but I’m not letting him get his dirty hands on Maisy.
It's not all bad here, though. We found out from some of the dancers that Syndall did work here, and just like Maisy, Javier took a shine to her too. She disappeared a couple of months after she started and hasn’t been seen since. Some of the girls asked about her and were told not to worry about it, that she quit for a better life.
I doubt that.
I’ve had my days struggling with the fact that these women are being exploited, or that’s what I felt when we first started. I’ve spent time with each of the dancers, talked to them, and learned their reasons for stripping. Most of them see it as a means to an end. They make good money, and they set their own boundaries. They aren’t sex workers. They’re just dancers. They make the rules for themselves… until Javier decides to try to change them, as he usually does.
I’ve talked to my counselor in Montana. I call her for telemedicine appointments to continue my therapy. She was concerned about me working here at first, but she understands why I chose to do it. She helps me process the fact that I’ve been thinking about Atlas a lot. She’s the only one I speak to about him. I don’t talk to Maisy about it.
I still don’t know much about Maisy’s past, but I’ve opened up to her about mine. Atlas isn’t part of those conversations, though. He’s all mine. I keep him in that maybe someday box. Someday, I’m going to explore those feelings. Someday, I want it to be him. Sometimes I wake at night with my body consumed by an overwhelming need for release. It scared me at first because I didn’t expect to want that kind of intimacy ever again. But with Atlas, I could. There is something about him that my body trusts.
My counselor says it’s perfectly normal to doubt my feelings, and she’s glad I’m experiencing desire again. We talked about my body and whether I found it repulsive. I confirmed that I no longer feel that way. I love my new body. My face has changed, but I no longer look in the mirror and see a stranger. My scars are still present, and unfortunately, today Javier is pushing the issues regarding them.
Javier insisted on the outfit I’m wearing. I normally wear leather pants or low-rise jeans with a vest top. But he personally gave me tonight’s outfit. Told me if I didn’t wear it, I would be fired, and that would leave Maisy here by herself. I’ve taken her under my wing and won’t let anything happen to her. When he saw my scars that are normally covered, or he doesn’t focus on, he got upset.
“I guess I can’t fucking change that. Stay behind the bar and don’t let them see your lower back. You’ll be a private bartender for an important meeting I have this evening,” he barked at me earlier.
Stepping through the beaded curtain to the back of the club, I walk into the dressing room, where Maisy is changing. Javier had an outfit for her too. I stand in front of one of the mirrors and check out my hair. I’ve put the front, except for a strand on each side of my forehead and part of the sides, up in two cute buns on top of my head, leaving the rest hanging down my back. I was so happy when I found a salon that could help me with my new style. My hair is still growing out and getting healthier, but I’m going to keep doing the braids and dreadlocks for a bit. Maybe later I’ll try Viking braids or something different.
I look down at my short leather shorts with lace legs that reach my ankles, then at the leather vest with a deep scoop neck showing off my breasts while barely reaching my naval. It isn’t exactly appropriate for working behind the bar, but I had no choice.
A curtain flutters behind me, and Maisy steps out.
“Look what he’s making me wear tonight. He said something about important men are coming and he wants to impress them. What am I going to do? I can’t bend over.”
Maisy twists around. She’s wearing the tiniest shorts that practically reveal her vajayjay, and they’re so low at the hips you can see the crack of her ass. Her top is a skimpy vest that ties with leather straps across her D cup breasts. It would only take a customer getting too handsy to expose her.
“Let me guess. If you don’t wear that, he’ll fire me?” I shake my head as anger hits me hard.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
“How do you think he got me in this?” I wave my hand down my body.
“Diamond helped me put an adhesive bra on to hold the girls in place.”
I peek into her vest when she pulls it away from her chest for me to see.
I nod and flatten my lips, impressed. “That’s cool. I didn’t know they made those big enough for your girls.”
Maisy chuckles. She’s constantly saying she wishes she didn’t have them. That her girls are what attract men’s attention, and she wants a guy to look her in the eye instead of at her boobs.
“Hello, ladies.” Javier steps into the dressing room without announcing himself first. “Maisy, you’ll be taking Diamond’s set in the private room. She isn’t feeling well.”
Diamond squeezes past us with her head down, her long hair covering her face. I know he hit her. This is exactly what happened to Syndall, according to another dancer. She wasn’t dancing for him until that night.
“No.” I turn and stand up to him. I’m not afraid of him, even if he’s taller than me.
He grabs my upper arm, and I don’t fight him yet, not with his bouncers standing behind him.