Private Dancer Chapter 7
We are in the hospital. Lux was just shot. It was me who called Ainsley and let him know. Now we're just waiting steadily for him to get to the hospital. I feel like shit. Sure Lux was an asshole but he definitely didn't deserve a fucking a bullet for not being a likable person. I'm sitting in the lobby with D and Emory when they show up.
"Coffee?" Emory asks returning with two cups in his hands.
He's looking at me when he offers it.
"Damn, the rest of us are here too," D says.
"I---uh---"
"Just playing man," D laughs, "I don't even drink coffee. Got enough energy. Why is coffee better than a woman?"
"A joke now----of all times---- really?" I ask.
"C`mon you guys looking like it's the end of the world...humor me."
I'm irritated but Emory, probably feeling guilty that he didn't offer D some coffee gives my friend a pity smile, "Fine D, why is coffee better than a woman?"
"It goes down easier," D puts on this self-satisfying smile as I roll my eyes and Emory gives him a smile.
I'm surprised when Emory looks over at me.
"It's OK----he never said the coffee was better than a man," Emory states looking directly at me, "Maybe it's close if you add some milk to it. What do you think Barry? Do you like milk in your coffee?"
He bites his lip a little when he asks me. It's enough to even make D who never gets uncomfortable with anything clear his throat a few times. It's not a question. Emory was flirting with me. He's looking at me with those green eyes and it's almost as though I was the only one that existed. Ever since I saved him, he hasn't stopped looking at me. It's almost as though he's seen something on my face that he hasn't realized before and now he's trying to figure it out.
I feel so uncomfortable, "No. My sister likes milk in her coffee though. I drink mine black."
"You sure, because you seem to be enjoying that coffee and I added a lot of milk to it."
"I'm positive."
"Well who knows---maybe it's an acquired taste."
"I'm pretty sure it's better not to acquire anything. I'm pretty sure it's better if I stick to what I like. It's better if everyone sticks to what they like."
"Sometimes you can't help a little change. Maybe if we add some milk slowly next time it will make things easier to swallow."
I spit out my coffee a little bit.
"Damn," he states, "You got some coffee on your lip. Here...I'll get it for you."
I want to fight it. I want to stop him from doing it but I can't. He is so quick. He is by my side before I know it. He uses his finger to swipe the coffee from the side of my lip. Slowly but surely he does something that drives me crazy. He licks the coffee he's cleaned from my lip and sucks it up slowly, slurping it in his pink, thick lips. You would think it was liquid gold. The whole time he's looking at me. No---he's looking through me. It's as though he could see my soul in this moments.
"We still talking about coffee?" D interrupts.
I'm glad when he does because Emory gets out of his daze and leans back a little bit. Shit was getting intense between me and him. Really intense and it was clear that conversation that we had before wasn't working. I was going to have to find a way to get it through his head that whatever was happening between us had to stop. It had to stop really soon.
I sit trying to think of it and can feel his eyes melting back on me in no time. That's literally how it felt like. It felt like they were melting on me. Starting from my head and just melting down...down...down.
It keeps happening until Ainsley shows up with Hitter by his side.
"Is everything OK?" Ainsley asks.
"Everything's fine," I tell him, "We filled out the police report. It was a drive-by."
"How many people were shot?"
"Just him. It's like they were aiming for him..."
"And me," Emory adds in, "We were definitely being targeted."
D seems to find this amusing like he does everything else, "Damn, did you guys give a really bad lap dance or something? Who the hell wants a bunch of strippers dead?"
There is a pause. It's the kind of uncomfortable pause that happens when D is the only one who doesn't seem to be aware of how serious this all really is. I know it's serious though. I know that they were aiming for Emory. I saw the gun. If I hadn't taken him down he would be in the hospital right alongside Lux...or worse. A morgue.
Someone definitely wanted him dead and they wanted him dead now.
Emory tries to lighten up the mood, "Lucky for us he'll survive. The doctor says he'll be fine."
"How long is the recovery?" Ainsley seems irritated.
"They didn't say."
"Jesus Christ. All I know is that is my headliner. I already owe some serious money to a lender," Ainsley states shaking at that moment, "What the hell am I going to do?"
"You're worried about money right now?" I ask, "Your friend is in a hospital bed."
I didn't think I'd be the one having sympathy for someone like Lux. If the situation was reversed he probably wouldn't have given a fuck about me. But I feel bad for him. He may have been a dickhead but he was loyal to the Red and Monkey. He didn't deserve someone like Ainsley seeming not to giving a damn about his welfare at all.
"He's not my friend. He's my employee. And I need to figure out how the hell I'm going to headline my show with him in the hospital."
He's heartless. I don't know why I expected something better from Ainsley. Seeing him now I can see that he doesn't give a damn about Lux. He doesn't give a damn about any of us. All he cared about was if we can shake our dicks long enough to make him an extra dollar.
"You were the one who sent us to the Saudis."
"What?" he asks.
"The Saudis. They did this. I know it."
"Don't start this bullshit again," Ainsley states, "Your obsession with blaming the Saudis for Emory's disappearance was proven wrong. Emory is alive. He's standing right there. Isn't he?"
He's being dismissive. I can see it.
Lucky for me he is the only one who seems so dismissive. Emory comes over and grabs my arm, "The Saudis?"
He's interested in what I have to say.
"You disappeared the night that we went dancing for the Saudi prince. I think he had something to do with your disappearance. I thought he did something to you but for somehow, you're back here...alive."
"ENOUGH!" Ainsley booms louder than ever, "The Saudis are rich. They are powerful. If they wanted Emory dead he'd be dead. Lux was involved with a lot of shit. He had a lot of enemies. One thing you don't want to do is to keep walking around here making false allegations."
"But Ainsley---"
"But nothing," he states, "Keep accusing our top client and I'll have to let you go. I don't want to but I'll do it. And if I cut ties with you----you might as well leave Vegas. No other club will hire you."
"Damn Ainsley, that's a bit tough," Hitter states.
"It's a tough world," Ainsley responds, "Now if you all excuse me. I'm going to go ask the Doctor how long before Lux can dance again."
Ainsley leaves at that moment, leaving the rest of us in the waiting room. He was cold. He was an asshole. That part was clear. The fact that he didn't care about Lux being in the hospital was one thing. The fact that he didn't believe the Saudis were involved was another thing. The idea however that he was willing to let me go if I even brought up the Saudis was something completely different.
"You OK?" Emory asks.
I nod, "I'm fine."
"He's kind of defensive isn't he?" D asks, "He really seems to like him some Arabs. I mean I like hummus like the next man too, but damn----"
"D---"
"Not the time, right?" D answers his own question, "Right."
"I think it may be him. The Crowned Prince..." a voice states.
D, Emory and I turn to see Hitter standing there. This whole time he's been sort of out of it. I knew that he was close with Lux. I knew that they were friends. Hitter seems to have a lot on his mind. It makes me think he might know something.
"Why do you say that?" I ask, "What do you know?"
"I used to sell drugs to the Crowned Prince. Butt naked."
"You used to sell drugs to him butt naked?" D asks, "Like some type of fetish or something."
"No, fool, the drug is called butt naked."
Hitter nods but then shakes, "But he did have fetishes too. And I kept selling it to him because he paid so much. He would overpay for me to get him the drugs on time. Sometimes when I went to that room to deliver the drugs I saw some...scary stuff."
We all look at Hitter and it's clear that something has the guy really spooked. Hitter was one of those guys that didn't seem like he was easily spooked too. He was confident at work. He was the kind of guy who had it all together. We knew he was a drug dealer. We knew that about him. What we didn't know was why he was feeling so weird about selling this drug.
"What kind of scary stuff?"
Hitter sighs, "He had boys. I assumed a lot of them were prostitutes. But he'd get real aggressive with them. He liked rough sex. He liked to see his boys...bleed..."
"Fuck."
We all look at one another.
"That sounds a little bit more than a fetish man," Emory states, "That sounds a little sick."
Hitter nods in agreement, "The Crowned Prince was a sick man. And he wasn't well. He was addicted to Butt Naked and it only got worse..."
I can't take it anymore. I'm so pissed at that moment that I hit Hitter. I sock him right in the fucking jaw. Hitter falls back a little bit. No one is expecting it especially Hitter.
He charges back at me without even thinking about it but he's stopped. He's stopped by both Emory and D who block him off.
"You might want to think about your next move a little better---bro..." Emory states, "He's off limits."
"So you just going to let your friend hit me for no reason?" Hitter asks.
"No reason?" I argue, "You fed your poison to a fuckin monster. God knows what he did when he was on PCP. What if something happened to Emory that night? If something had happened to Emory----I swear to god I would have killed you. I SWEAR!"
"Nothing happened," Hitter states, "Emory is standing right there."
"Hey---" Emory states, "You OK?"
He looks over at me. I can't help it. Hitter was the worst. He knew those drugs made the Prince a lunatic and he kept giving it to him. He was right in one thing though. Emory was OK. Thankfully. And for some reason, I can't help but to reach over to him and hug him. I hug him close. At that moment I forget that I shouldn't be `touching' him. At that moment none of that matters. I'm just so happy that he's back.
"I'm sorry," I state about my explosion, "It's just---I don't know what I would do if something had happened to you that night. I just don't know."
"It's OK," Emory tells me with this calm voice, "Let's get you home. Let's get you home."
He leaves with me. The day has been too emotionally charged. Throughout the Uber ride home, he's holding me. I'm holding him. I know we shouldn't be sitting this close. I know we shouldn't be touching. I knew that before we got to the house I was going to have to get away from him and stop being so close but right now I was being comforted. Right now, I felt so afraid. I felt so scared.
The Crown Prince wanted Emory dead. I knew it. Maybe he had gotten away from him. Maybe he wanted to silence Emory before he talked.
"We should go to the police. Let them know what we know about the Crowned Prince,"
He nods, "Tomorrow. We'll go together."
"I just can't have anything happen to you."
"You're crying."
I hadn't even noticed it. I hadn't noticed I was staining my shirt with tears. He lifts up my head and takes a look at my face. His eyes glare a little bit at me.
"I'm just worried."
"You really do care---don't you?" he asks.
"Of course. You're the closest thing to me. You're my best friend. You're my other half."
There is a pause. That's when he sighs a little bit, "There's something I need to tell you. Something about me."
Oh fuck.
This was happening. I look up at him. The way he was looking at me was a way that no other man had looked at me before. I had seen the look before though. I'd seen the look in the mirror when I used to daydream about being with Emory. How much I would have prayed every day that he would look at me the way he was looking at me now. Now he was giving me that look and instead of being happy, it terrified me.
I just keep thinking about Roxana.
Was he going to tell me he had feelings for me?
"Wait...don't----"
"Don't?" he asks.
"What you have to tell me---is it going to change our relationship forever?" he asks.
There is a pause.
"Yes."
"Then don't tell me," I state, "Please don't. I can't handle it. Let's just keep things the same. You keep your milk. I'll drink my coffee black."
I can see that it hurts his feelings me turning him down in the way that I do. He looks like he still wants to say something. He looks like there is something he is really struggling with. I push off of him though and slide to the other side of the cab.
We arrive at the house and the tension is so thick you can cut through it. I know that I've hurt him but I know that he's not giving up. For some reason me seeming so hurt seems to attract him even more. He keeps looking at me. His eyes just staring at me with this look that I can't put my finger on. I look back at him. It's weird us walking up the driveway just staring at each other. I want to be close to him. I want to hold his hand. I want to smell him like I did in the cab but we can't. We're walking towards the house.
And before we open the door, we see it open and Roxana comes out. She's a reminder of why I can't hold him. Why I can't smell him. Why all I can do is stare...
"Roxana, you OK?" Emory asks.
He's the first one to notice but then I realize it too. Roxana has tears in her eyes. I run over to my sister. My sister wasn't the crying type. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
"What happened?" I ask.
"These men came here," she states, "They said they are watching me. They say that if you guys go to the police...they are going to kill me..."
She jumps into Emory's arms. She's crying on his chest. I don't even get a chance to comfort my sister. I look over at Emory. She needed him more right now. We were being threatened. We were being watched. How did they find Roxana?
How the hell were they able to get to her?
I look around and all of a sudden I don't feel comfortable. All of a sudden I know that the threat is real.
"Let's go inside," I state.
~
Lux
Two months have passed.
"You sure you up to returning tonight?" Hitter asks.
"I need the money," I state, "Ain't nothing left but a little bullet wound. My clients will like that shit. It gives me character. It'll make me look tough. Like a thug."
Hitter rolls his eyes, "You're nobody's thug. Besides, ...things have changed in the club."
"New Headliner?" I ask, "I'm not worried. I'm ready to take my throne back."
"Is that right?"
"Damn right..." I laugh.
I put on a brave face. The last thing I needed everyone at the club to do was to start treating me like some sort of victim. Sure I was shot. Sure that bullet was meant for me. But no one was going to chase me out of Las Vegas. No one was going to chase me out of the Rum & Monkey. I'd helped to build this place from the ground up. I was the one who gave the R&M its reputation. The R&M was my baby and I be damned if a bullet was going to stop me.
Still...I had to admit.
This was deeper than anything I got involved in.
I'm late as I walk through the door. I expect there to be some sort of being a celebration. A cake. Balloons. Something. The king had fuckin returned.
It's none of that. Not even a little.
Some boys are running out to the floor, running right past me almost like they don't even fucking see me. I'm confused about what the hell is going on. I grab Thiago who barely looks like he sees me.
"Oh, Lux, you're back," he states, "Nice."
He could care less. He's not interested. Not even a little bit. His eyes are on something else. Something else has gotten his attention.
"What's the rush?" I ask, "Where the hell is everyone going?"
"The Opening Act..." he states.
"I didn't even change yet. How the hell are you going to have the opening act without me?"
Thiago has this look on his face. I'd seen that look before. I'd seen that look when one of the boys got pulled from the set or when they were about to get to get cut by Ainsley. I'd given that look to one of the boys who had gained a few pounds in the wrong areas or was breaking out in acne. The look that you weren't good enough anymore.
Now Thiago Rodriguez who worshipped the ground I walked on had the nerve to give that look to me?
It's Hitter who shakes his head, "I told you...things have changed around here."
Thiago doesn't say another word before he walks over to watch from the side stage. That's when I see them: Barry and Emory.
"Fuck---they are hot," I hear one of the boys tell Thiago.
"Hell yeah...that chemistry is crazy."
The other strippers aren't the only ones responding to the performance like this. I look over and see what's happening. Barry and Emory are on stage. Emory has a bottle of chocolate syrup in his hands. Barry has a bottle of white chocolate in his. They are both sitting in a tub. I watch the crowd going crazy. I'd never seen the Rum and Monkey like this. Our clientele didn't whoop and holler. They were reserved, rich men who enjoyed lap dances and placed the money on the table instead of throwing it at you. That's not what was happening right now.
Money was being tossed out onto the stage. It was more money than I could imagine. The money was flying out as the two boys pour chocolate on one another. They don't kiss but their lips are so close that you think they are about to. They don't even touch. It's so weird. I could tell they wanted to. The entire crowd could tell they wanted to and everyone is waiting on the waited breath as the two boys circle around each other dancing in their underwear.
Then the underwear comes off.
They are both naked. Their long dicks dangling dripping chocolate. I watch as they sexually swirl it on each other's chests. Down each other's abs. Emory taking his time to bend down and get it right in the crack of Barry's ass.
No touching. Just chocolate. Just seduction.
Slow...steady...
They weren't just teasing the crowd. They were teasing each other. I can see the dark chocolate dribble down Emory's abs into his pubic hair and to the tip of his dick. I watch as Barry threatens to slurp it up. It doesn't happen but it's so close. So fucking close.
And that's when I notice.
My dick is hard.
What...the...FUCK!
~
"I need something..." I tell Hitter.
"I haven't been doing that much anymore," Hitter states.
"Excuse me?"
I needed drugs and I needed it now. After seeing Emory and Barry on stage I knew that they'd taken over the club. They were the big shots now. I might have survived the gunshot wound but it had killed my career. Sitting here now I knew that I was thing of the past. No one cared about me.
"Barry said something to me while you were in the hospital," Hitter states, "I feel like he had a point. What I'm selling---man it's poison. I don't want to do it anymore."
"Barry convinced you to stop selling drugs. What the fuck?" I state.
Of course, Barry would have been the one to do that. I'm pissed at the thought. I look over at Barry now. There is a whole crowd around his station.
"That was awesome man. You guys killed it," Thiago states.
We're in the back. It's over. They were out of the shower. It's the first time they touched each other all night. I'm watching as Emory uses his towel to wipe the water off of Barry's head. This was killing me. This wasn't Emory. This imposter was here taking over my show. I look at a flyer who that was sitting next to me. The flyer usually was a big poster of me. That's not the case though. It's a poster of Emory and Barry wrapped in each other's arms.
"It was just a performance man."
"It was. We should be celebrating Lux returning," Barry states.
I hate when he says it. He looks over at me. Fucking nice Barry. It hurts even more that he's so nice to me. He was trying to pity me. The other guys look over at me all with the same look of pity. Poor Lux had survived his gunshot wound.
"Man fuck you. You're the reason I got shot," I state.
I'm irritated.
"Excuse me?"
"You save your brother or boyfriend or whatever the fuck he was, but I couldn't get a warning too?" I ask.
"You really blaming him for you getting shot?" Emory asks.
Barry shakes his head, "He's not worth it Emory."
"I'm not going to let this dickhead talk to you like that," Emory states, "Lux---do you know Barry was at the hospital every single day when you were in surgery. He brought you fresh flowers...every single day. That's the kind of person Barry is. He's a good fucking person. And you got the nerve to sit there and call him out."
Emory was upset. The way he talked about Barry...it was almost like he was in love with him. Barry could do no wrong in his eyes and it pissed me off. All of it pissed me the fuck off. And before I know it I'm in Emory's face.
`What you going to do about it?" I ask.
"Emory it's not worth it," Barry states.
"Right `Emory'. You don't want to get beside yourself. Especially not for someone like Barry. God knows he's not worth it."
I'm shocked when I'm hit in the face. It's fucking Emory. Emory hits me! The fucker was strong. I was just looking for a reason at this point though as I grab his head and slam it into the nearest wall. All hell breaks loose at that moment. All I see is flashes of anger, flashes of pain as Emory and I start trading blows. My body bruised and beaten as I get him on the floor only to feel him hit me a few times in the back of my head to get me off of him.
We are wrestling all over the floor until we are finally separated.
~
Before I know it we are in Ainsley's office like two kids sent to the Principal's office.
"What the hell is going on in here?" Ainsley asks.
"You tell me," I state, "I leave and all of a sudden you got these two star-fated lovers taking my fucking spot? What the hell is this?"
Emory is really quiet. He was a damn good fighter. This motherfucker was too good of a fighter. I was sitting there bruised and he barely had a scratch on him. It was pissing me the fuck off. I knew what was going on though. I had something that he wouldn't be able to block. I knew the fucking truth about Emory.
"They have chemistry..." Ainsley states.
"Of course, they have chemistry. They have chemistry because he's pretending to be his dead brother so that he can fuck his brother-in-law!" I burst out.
It comes out of nowhere.
"What are you talking about?" Ainsley asks.
Emory all of a sudden looks scared to death. He's lucky his precious Barry wasn't in the room.
"Oh let's be real. You came here trying to figure out what happened to your brother but we all know what happened to him. So why the hell are you sticking around? It's because of Barry. It's been two months, for god sakes."
Ainsley isn't talking to me right now. He's looking over at Emory.
"What the hell is he talking about?"
There is silence. I am so pissed that I get up and walk to the corner of the room. Maybe I'm wrong for outing Emory like that. I can see Ainsley's head spinning at that moment putting two and two together.
"I needed to know the truth..." Emory states.
"You're not Emory," Ainsley states.
"Something happened to him."
This seems like it's news to Ainsley. I don't see how. He was always a fucking idiot really. Without me, the R&M wouldn't have gone anywhere. He couldn't figure something out that was right in front of his face.
"That's his twin brother," I state.
"Fuck."
Ainsley sits down at that moment. I watch him open up his drawer and he takes out some hard Whiskey. He pours himself a glass but when he looks up and sees Emory he decides to take the bottle to the head.
"What happened to the real Emory?" Ainsley asks.
"What the hell do you think happened?" I ask.
He can't be that dumb. He really can't be that dumb.
Ainsley swallows hard, "This can't leave this room. Not to anyone. Not to the cops. Not to Barry. Not to anyone. If we play dumb maybe we can get through this."
I'm confused.
"Get through what?" I ask.
That's when I realize Ainsley looks a little scared. Something has him really shaken. I can see it in his face. Something has him really bothered.
Emory raises his eyebrows, "What's happening?"
I knew Ainsley. I knew this fucking idiot too well.
"What the hell did you do?" I ask Ainsley.
"I was in debt. A lot of debt."
"I thought your headliners were doing amazing."
"They are. I tried to pay off the people I owed with the money Barry and----whoever you are----made here at the club. They didn't want it. Said that it's too late...they decided to take ownership of the club."
"You gave away ownership?" I ask.
"I had no choice," he states, "They should be coming in any moment now. Taking control of the club."
"Fuck Ainsley...who is the owner of the club."
I know by how freaked out he is by the truth that someone actually murdered Emory. He's freaked out because he was keeping something from me and the other boys.
"The Crowned Prince is the new owner of the club."
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