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I started taking drugs to help me forget…what I gave up. What I ended up losing. And him. It didn’t work. But I realized that it did help me sleep, and in my dreams, I was able to live a different life. One where he wasn’t a Lord, and I wasn’t the coward who shot him. We were able to live happily ever after like you hear in fairy tales.
I walk up the three stairs and over to the round table where the guy sits. Benny always sits in the same section, same table, and orders the same thing to drink. He looks up from his phone to see me, and he swallows.
“Hey, handsome.” I plop down next to him.
Reaching over, he slides his hand between my legs and pulls mine to rest over his jean-clad thighs, across his lap. His lips near my ear, his voice rumbles. “Fuck, you look hot tonight, sweetheart.”
I still cringe whenever someone calls me that. It reminds me of Saint. I don’t know if I killed him, but he still has so much power over me it’s pathetic. At times, I think killing myself would have been easier than living a life without him. I wish he would have just killed me when I asked him. I ended up losing everything anyway.
I muster up a fake smile. “You look pretty good yourself.”
He didn’t dress up, but I didn’t expect him to. He’s a regular. He’s been coming into Glass to see me since opening night. I slept with him three months later for the first time. We’ve never been a couple or anything like that. He comes in regularly and sees me. Every now and then, he rents a suite in one of the hotels on the Strip, and I spend the night with him.
“How long before you go on stage?” he asks, his hand softly running up and over my upper thigh at the top of my thigh-highs.
“Thirty minutes,” I say.
He gives me a kind smile just as a server comes over to us. He orders himself a glass of scotch and me a Red Bull and vodka. I need another energy drink and for this ecstasy to kick in.
Technically, in the state of Nevada, if a strip club serves alcohol, the dancers aren’t allowed to be nude. But if you can serve alcohol, the club is more lucrative. So Glass doesn’t follow the law. But when you have two bosses like I do, they’re bound to bend the rules to their benefit. They’ve either paid someone off or just don’t give a fuck.
THIRTY-THREE
ASHTYN
Forty-five minutes later, I walk off the third stage, pulling the bills from my G-string, and head down the steps off the end and back into the locker room.
“How is it out there?” Cherry asks.
“Good.” I walk over to my locker, pop it open, and shove all the cash into my backpack before locking it. I won’t count my money until closing when I go through it and cash it all in for larger bills.
Making my way over to my chair, I stand in front of the mirror, getting a good look at myself. Reaching up, I scrape my nails over my scalp, messing up my already tangled hair, and my eyes practically roll into the back of my head at how good it feels. Then I reapply my red lipstick and pucker my lips, looking over my eyes. They’re dilated. The pills started to kick in about fifteen minutes ago. My skin tingles, and I feel hot—flushed. Of course, that could be from the neon lights that I was just dancing under.
“Luna?” One of our bosses enters the room. Pretty sure they’re both involved with the Mafia. Bones is a King. Well, that’s what everyone calls him anyway. He owns Kingdom—a hotel and casino—with three other Kings here in Las Vegas. Titan, Grave, Cross, and Bones own this city.
“Yeah?” I ask, looking up into his dark-blue eyes.
“You’ve been requested to join the Fountain room.” He arches a brow, waiting for my response.
“Yeah.” I smile and quickly look around for Sadie, but don’t see her. She’s probably already in there and waiting for me. “Be right there.”
He taps the side of the doorframe before he exits the room.
“Man,” Cherry sighs. “He’s so fucking hot.”
“He’s been claimed,” Mercedes reminds her.
It was all over the news. Of course, she’s some Mafia princess—that’s what the media calls her anyway. Just furthers my point of who he really is.
“I’d gladly be his side bitch. Like no lie. He could ruin my life, and I’d thank him.” She fans herself, making all of us laugh.
I put my outfit back on since I took it off while on stage, then exit the locker room. I make my way to the bar and grab a new drink before I head toward the Fountain room. It’s the most expensive room a customer can purchase here, and I couldn’t be more excited to spend my night in it.
When your presence is requested in the Fountain room, you’re automatically skipped over when it’s your turn to make your rounds on the stages because you’re making a substantial amount more than you could make on a three-minute song.
I make my way up the stairs and down the hallway to see one of our security guards standing in front of the black double doors to the room. Joe has been here since they opened. He’s your typical man who works in a strip club and tries to fuck all the exotic dancers. And he always wants free dances.
“Who all is in here?” I ask. Usually when two or more rent this room, you’ve got multiple dancers going in and out until the club closes. They’re paying for the room and bottle service, not the girl specifically. We’re extra.
