“First off, what can I get ya?” Paradise asked the girl.
“A job, a safe place to stay, sanctuary, maybe?” She frowned. “I’ll just take a water.”
“You running from something?” I asked her, watching the fear cross through her eyes.
“You could say that.”
“Where are you from?”
“New York, Brooklyn to be exact,” she answered meekly.
“Well, Brooklyn, what brought you to Texas?” I asked her, signalling to Paradise to bring me a beer.
She stared at me strangely. “Why are you calling me Brooklyn?”
Paradise laughed. “They name us after where we came from. I’m from Paradise Texas. London up there is from England. He called you Brooklyn because that’s where you’re from. They don’t care about your logistics here, as long as you treat the club and their MC with the respect it deserves, they couldn’t care less where you came from or what you're hiding from. The Celestial Sons MC is a family you never knew you needed, honey.”
Brooklyn stared at us both, her eyes moving between the two of us. “A friend lives a few towns over, but she’s already done so much for me that I couldn’t put her out anymore. So I left, found myself here somehow.”
“Do you dance, honey?” Paradise asked her, placing a water bottle before her.
“Like strip?” she glanced at the stage, gulped, then violently shook her head. “No way.”
“It’s not as bad as you think. The guys aren’t allowed to touch you. If they do…” Paradise points to the door where Bull and Archer are conversing. “Dem two behemoths over there will knock the shit out of them and drag their asses out of here. Do you have any rhythm at all?”
Brooklyn shrugged. “I used to go clubbing with my friends. I wasn’t really good, but I guess I could dance okay.” She shot me a pathetic look. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I ended up here.”
Paradise reached across the bartop and patted her hand. “Honey, we all end up here when we’re looking for salvation. The Celestial Sons MC is filled to the brim with good men, they ain’t your typical MC, and they protect us all. They helped me get on my feet and put me through school. If you need help, you’ve found the right place to be.”
Brooklyn looked up at me. “If you guys can help me in any way, I’d greatly appreciate it. Even if it’s just a place to stay for the night, a little food, and this water.”
I knew she was hiding from something, I could tell by the fearful look in her eyes, and at that moment I wasn’t exactly sure why my heart felt the need to protect her, but it did, and I couldn’t just let her wander the streets out in the rain.
“Well, Scorpio, can she stay?” Paradise questioned, handing me my beer.
I stared into Brooklyn’s eyes, wondering how a girl with no rhythm was going to work up on that stage. “Against my better judgment, yes. We got an open dancer spot if you’re up for it. The wages are good. The tips can be even better at times. Whatever you make up on the stage is yours, minus the club’s nightly cut of one-hundred fifty dollars. If you get good enough to go VIP that price increases to five-hundred. Anything over that you get to keep, and we give you a small weekly paycheck of two hundred to compensate for nights that aren’t so busy. Does that work for you?”
Brooklyn nodded. “I’ll do my best,” she squeaked.
“Welcome to Stars and Strips, Brooklyn. Whatever you need, the club has your back. Cross us, and we’ll send you packing. The only main rules you need to know is that there’s no fucking clients, no drugs, and no drama. I don’t care how much money a client offers you, it’s a huge no-no that will get you immediately fired if you’re caught having sex in the club. As for drugs, stay away from them, and leave the drama on the doorstep when you walk in.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” she responded. “I hate sex, wouldn’t touch a drug even if it was put in front of me, and I left my drama back in New York.”
Paradise’s nose scrunched up. “Honey, who on earth hurt you to the point of making you hate sex?”
Brooklyn bit on her bottom lip and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. That’s a part of my life I wish to forget. It’s time to move on and make myself a new home.”
“Well, we hope you can find a home here, Brooklyn. Glad to have you with us.”
I knew there was more to the story than what she was giving me, and if I had known that in a few short months she would no longer be with us, I probably would’ve gotten to know Brooklyn more than the casual friendship we shared with each other. That girl probably had skeletons in her closet that would make the devil nervous.
***
“YOU CAN’T DO THIS!” a female voice screamed just outside the cell block.
I couldn’t hear anything after that, but a few minutes later, the hot little cop came storming in, her eyes flashing with rage, as she grabbed a trashcan off the floor and threw it across the room.
“Wow! Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?”
