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The one who abandoned me.
The one I think about each night when Frank struggles on top of me, panting as he beats himself into me.
Midway through the song, I saunter to the center of the stage, unhooking the flimsy garment guarding my naked flesh from the crowd.
I bare my breasts for them, willingly, giving them a sexy shake to emphasize my enthusiasm, but as I go to bend, a silhouette catches my attention.
Tall, broad of shoulders, tense.
It can’t be…
All at once, my whole world tilts on its axis. He’s not supposed to be here.
But it’s silly to be surprised. What man doesn’t like to stare at titties?
Well, I wonder how he’ll like mine.
* * *
GABRIEL
Seeing Brooke up on the stage, dancing like a pro, fills me with cold rage.
Her hair is edgy blonde; her makeup flamboyant. Somehow, I see straight through it all to the soft girl who only wanted to escape.
When I first met her, she was all of a baby. Now, she moves lustfully across the stage, making a show of removing her top. And holy fuck if I’m not ruined for every other woman left alive, because this girl is perfect.
Her tits are small and perky, made for sucking. A thought I’m sure I’m gonna go to hell for, though there isn’t a man alive who would blame me for the observation.
My cock is an angry fist in my pants, demanding to be let out.
I’m damned again.
The last time I saw her, she was fresh faced and all of a kid. Now, she looks out from the stage through fake lashes, licking her lips, teasing the crowd with slow, hypnotic movements.
I should have saved her. Long ago, I should have known she needed help.
Despite her hatred for me, she wrote to me every week, telling me the details of her life.
They weren’t pretty.
She begged me to come get her, because while she lived a seemingly perfect life in The Ivory Tower, there was a darkness to her gilded existence.
But what could I do?
Two years ago, when she turned eighteen, was the first time I ever replied to any of her letters.
I wished her good luck in life and sent her a gold chain with a four-leaf clover charm.
She never wrote to me again.
Shortly after that, I fell into an unfortunate situation, and thinking about her is what helped get me through it.
She works the pole like the best of them, and by the look on her face, she’s enjoying every bit of the attention she’s getting from the lewd men seated around the stage.
That sweet, innocent girl I knew is gone, replaced with a vixen that knows how to entertain a crowd.
For months, I told myself I needed to get her to the Keep because it was the safest place to be. Sure, she’d be claimed, but I’d be able to keep a close eye on her and make sure she was treated well. I reasoned she’d be thankful.
