“It’s real, every last hundred-dollar bill.” She hands it to me, and I place it in my purse.
I justify the large sum as a down payment for the next body that will come across my table. And I know exactly what I’m going to do with the money.
“Thanks, you good for the rest of the night?” I ask her.
“Yep.” I offer her a wave before I turn to leave. When I get in my car, I know exactly where I’m going. To visit the only person I consider a friend and, better yet, family. The drive doesn’t take me long, and when I pull up to the flashy neon lights, I make sure to hold my bag close to my body as security nods at me and lets me through.
“Hey, Leonore,” Soph calls from the bar. I walk over there and place my purse on it.
“Hey, Ness on tonight?”
She nods her head. “You know it. She’s about to go on the stage.”
“Thanks, give me a water, please.” Soph turns around to reach for a bottle of water and slides it across the bar to me. I reach into my purse and slide her a fifty. “Keep the change.” Her cheeks redden, and she thanks me. I look away, reaching for my purse and water, and walk to the front of the stage. Slow music starts before the red curtains open and out dances Nessa. I have been friends with Nessa since I moved here. She was my first friend in town, and she’s been my ride or die ever since. We’re two opposites, but somehow it works. She is all glossy lips and brightly colored clothes, while I wear black and look like I’ve stepped out of the 1950s.
A few of the men start hollering as they throw money up on the stage. She’s dressed in a little red tutu skirt and a red leather shiny top that just covers her nipples. She doesn’t spot me right away. She starts on the opposite side of the stage and removes pieces of clothing, getting right to the edge so men can put money in her G-string before she moves around, crawling to where I am. As soon as her blue eyes land on me, she smiles the brightest smile.
“Missed you,” she whispers, loud enough that only I can hear.
“Missed you more,” I tell her and lean forward to put a few fifty notes into her G-string. She gets back up and dances on the pole. When the music dies down, she walks off the stage. I stay where I’m seated even as the next dancer walks out. Hands touch my shoulders, and I look behind me to find Nessa with a silk gown covering herself as she leans down and kisses my cheek from behind.
“It’s been too long. Where have you been?” she asks, taking the seat next to me.
“Working, as usual.” She shivers and shakes her head. While she will never come into the morgue or like the morgue, she still understands that I love it. Reaching into my purse, I pull a small stack out and hand it to her. She eyes it but doesn’t reach for it.
“What are you doing?” She knows I do this even though she hates it. Her parents died long before mine did, and the only love she has known apart from her daughter is the love of abusive men. I don’t ever want her to rely on a man again. So every now and then, I stop by and try to help as much as I can.
“Take it. Buy Larissa something cute. I’ll have to come and visit soon. Sorry I have been busy.” She doesn’t know where I get the extra money, and I prefer to keep it that way. I certainly don’t share details about the families I work for or how this last week has kept me on edge.
“I was just happy to see you, Leo. I don’t need your money. It’s why I dance.”
“Okay, well, take it and go on vacation.” I push it toward her, and she looks at it.
“Thanks,” she says and finally takes it. “I’m finishing up. Come back to mine with me?”
I should tell her no, that I’ve hardly slept for the past week, but I’m not in my head as I nod. She jumps up from the chair and tells me to wait as she goes backstage. I drink my water as I watch the other dancer on stage and throw her a few hundred-dollar bills before Nessa finally comes back out. Here’s the thing: the money I receive is blood money to some, but I know how much it can change a woman’s life. Especially since I know how it feels building from the ground up alone. Sometimes we all just need a little help.
When I got to town six years ago, Nessa and I shared an apartment. It was only one bedroom, so we got used to sleeping in the same bed, and we came to appreciate having someone there. Even though it was odd for me, I knew that Nessa enjoyed it, so I never complained. We needed one another then, and I’ll always be grateful to her for being the only person who was there for me. And I will always have her back in return.
6
SILAS
Ican’t say I’m used to women turning down my invitations, because I’m definitely not. Valen stands opposite me as he stares at me.
“She said she kindly declines,” he tells me.
I hide my smile.
The balls on this woman.
I’m sure there was no kindness in her decline.
No matter. “Did you follow her?”
“I did…” he says, and something passes through his eyes at his answer.
“What is it?”
