Fucking Wild Hair.
Scottie must have let them in.
“Merrick?” Scottie calls. “You in here? You all right?”
“The mouse with you?” Chain shouts.
Fuck.
I head for my phone and switch off the music. “I’m here,” I say. “What’s going on?” I sheath my knife.
“What’s with the lights?” Chain asks. Then he sees the boots. “Those belong to the mouse.” He takes in the belt. “What’s going on here? Where did the pole come from?”
Hoss is the first to laugh. “The mouse is dancing for the prospect. Motherfucker.” He drops into a chair. “I want a dance.”
Chain laughs too. “I want the dance on my lap.”
Shit.
“She can’t go to class anymore,” I growl at them. “She asked if she could practice here.”
“She must be doing more than practicing,” Chain says, hopping onto the stage. “Because this is a man’s belt, and I see you are missing one.”
“Did you smack her ass with the belt?” Hoss asks. “I’ve never been able to smack a woman’s ass with a belt.”
I need to get these fuckers out of here. “No, I did not smack her ass. She needed it for some move she was working on.” That was sort of true.
Hoss stamps his feet. “I want a fucking dance!”
I guess there’s going to be a fight, anyway. I leap for his chair and knock him to the floor. He’s bigger than me, but one of his arms is in a cast. I’m still going to fuck him up. I punch him twice in the jaw before he gets his bearings.
“Motherfucker!” he says. “What the fuck!” He rolls over and tries to trap me beneath his bear self, but I lunge out of the way.
“Ha!” Chain cries. “This is fun. Scottie, pull us some beers as we watch!”
I see a shadow in the darkness behind the bar. It has to be Marietta. I have to buy her some time to get her clothes on.
So, I leap for Hoss again, taking an elbow to the gut, but I get another good punch in.
“Enough of this,” Scottie says, grabbing at my shoulders. “We need to save it for the Kin tomorrow. We can’t be half beat to shit before we even go.”
“Goddammit,” Chain says. “Where’s the fun in that?”
But Hoss gets to his knees. “Fuck it. Not worth it. Not for those scrawny tits.”
For that, I clock him again.
Then Marietta’s head pops over the edge of the bar, a silhouette against the neon. “Stop it, you Neanderthals! And Hoss, you take that back!”
Everybody stops.
She comes out from behind the bar, her hair askew, her shirt and skirt mostly in place. “I dance for whoever I want, and you can’t do a thing about it.” She looks at Chain. “You keep your dirty lap to yourself.” And to Scottie. “Thank you for being the only voice of reason.”
She whips around to me. “Can you solve a damn thing without using your fists?” She stomps to the pole, jerks my belt away, and tosses it to me. “Thank you for that. I’ll buy a proper strap for next time.”
She shoves her feet into her boots. “I pole dance for exercise and strength.” She pokes her own belly. “Look at these muscles. That’s what it’s for.” She bends her arm into a bicep pose. “And look at these. Not bad for someone with scrawny tits.” She throws that one at Hoss. “So, you all can fuck off.”
This makes Chain and Hoss roar with laughter.
