She walks to the pole and claims it. Her hand wraps around it, and my mind thinks of that hand tight on my cock. Her skin glistens under the strobe lights. Climbing the pole slowly, she swings around, letting her legs spread out. I’m intrigued by the way she moves.
Legs spread.
Back arched.
Toes pointed.
She spins around the pole. Her body hangs midair as dollar bills fly to the stage. Ricky lets out a low whistle next to me. I don’t look at him. I can’t. Not the way my blood is boiling at the way the men are watching her. They can have their fun, and she can make her money, but tonight I’ll make it very clear who she belongs to.
Chapter 7
Alma
Curtis Anderson
I’m waiting in the confession room. Don’t be late.
Alma
And the documents?
Curtis Anderson
I gave them to Claudi.
Don’t back out now baby.
Ithrow the phone onto the vanity to find a small gift I know is from Claudi. He knows a vague version of my story and why I’m entertaining Curtis Anderson. I pick up the two benzos and swallow them with the tequila shot he left next to them.
Claudi is one of the best bosses I’ve worked for. When I wastraining, he was patient and encouraging. More experienced dancers told me this wasn’t the norm in this industry.
I finish shoving the last of the one dollar bills from my stage performance into my duffle bag, the night far from over. After weeks of silence, I finally saw a glimpse of Curtis from the stage. He was still in his scrubs, coming after his emergency room shift, his badge clipped to his pocket, dark circles around his eyes, and that hideous scar standing out on his chin where gray scruff was growing.
He always looks out of place when he shows up in his uniform. Like he should be at some high end club closer to the city, but La Cuevita holds men’s secrets like his well.
I take a deep breath and roll my neck.
Twenty more minutes and the benzos will kick in. Tonight is the night. Curtis needs more than my mouth around his cock, and I need more than the tiny clues he’s giving me. Information on my mother is the bait he’s dangled in front of me, and I’ve played the game, but it’s gone on too long for both of us.
Last week, he offered to compile all Missy’s medical records. Records he claimed would give me everything I needed. All he wanted in return was all of me. All of me willing to submit to his rough desires. I lean over the vanity and run the makeup remover wipe underneath my eyes, wiping the smudges clean. My reflection looks softer now. Less dangerous. Less her. It doesn’t matter though. I’ll be wearing a blindfold.
It was my one condition to our arrangement—that I didn’t have to look him in the face. Blotting the sweat from between my breasts with a paper towel, I take one last look in the mirror. I may not have been Missy’s biological daughter, but tonight, I look just like her. Her demons are staring back at me like I inherited her sins.
Slowly, I walk down the long hallway toEl Confesionarioroom. Taking in a deep breath, I feel my hands shake as I pull the blindfold up to my face. I knock gently as my hand trembles. There’s no going back now. No time for regrets.
Knock
Knock
Knock.
The door opens, and a warm hand finds mine. Music is already playing in the background, likely something Claudi set up ahead of time. He wouldn’t let me do this if Curtis hadn’t held up his end of the deal.
Of all the rooms I’ve worked after hours,El Confesionariois the one room I can recognize even blindfolded. I hear the click of the door behind me and can’t help but feel unease as I look around the room. Through the sheer blindfold, light filters in, blurring the room into a hazy outline.
I look around and make out the familiar shapes of the room, the red velvet sofa, the large mirror accent on the wall, the candelabra on the side table, and if I look up, I know exactly where the chandelier will be.
I watch as Curtis takes his place on the sofa. I can’t exactly see the details, just the blurred outline of him sitting. He’s usually more vocal than this, but I’m too anxious to question his silence.
