Page 52 of Fighting the Odds

Not a proud moment, but it pays the bills, and separating the true me, Sierra, from my Lilac persona gets me through it.

Before I know it, I’ve climbed up the pole for my final trick and when the end of the song hits, I slide down in an inverted crucifix drop as the spotlight goes off. The stage goes dark.

I gather up the cash on the floor and make my way off. Cyrus is already there waiting for me with a coverup.

“You did amazing, baby.” He doesn’t kiss me nor say it loud enough for anyone to hear. The number one rule in the strip club is to always look available to the patrons.

“Thank you,” I murmur. My hand lingers a little longer on his as he helps me off the last step and into my cover up.

“Rico wants you to work the floor for thirty minutes, then head to the back and rest before your private party.”

“Okay.” I nod and step around him, but before I walk away, I turn back to him. “You’re going to be waiting outside the door for me, right?”

“If you want me there, that’s where I’ll be.” Cyrus shoots me a wink. I’m not sure why, but I want him there. I head on to the back to change into something to walk the floor. My clothes from earlier will be there, collected by Gina, along with any money I missed on the stage.

I’ve made it through the first dance; I can make it through the night. Then come Monday I’ll make it through being back at the hell hole I call high school.

Chapter 26

Wesley

I’ll give it to the bitch; she can fucking work a pole. There’s something about her though, almost familiar with the way she moves.

I showed up early and hid in the shadows at the back of the club to watch her. It was just a lucky fluke I got here just as they announced her to go on stage. Colt should’ve been here with me, but the pussy ass bitch chickened out.

For all his bitching about wanting to know what Sierra did, he didn’t show up for me to tell him. So now I’m here to see this bitch Lilac that’s trying to worm her way into my dad’s pocket. It’s okay, it’s his loss and he’ll regret it. But I’m not here for him, I’m here for me and to make sure this bitch knows to keep her dirty ass pussy away from my father.

I watch from the edge of the room as she descends from the stage, stopping to talk to the guy at the edge. She even has her paws all over him, the epitome of a true slut. Wonder what my dad would think, knowing his slut has her hands all over another man.

It’s okay. Soon she’ll no longer be fucking with my family. I’m exhilarated at the thought of gazing upon her pathetic face as she tries to explain herself.

She disappears to the back, and I head over to the bar for a drink. The bartender just stares at me for a second, like he’s trying to decide if I’m of age.

“Is there a problem? I asked for a Jack and Coke.”

“Yeah, there is, preppy boy. I need an ID.” The beefhead barks arrogantly, and I want to punch him in the face.

I can’t do that, though. Not only would it get me kicked out of here, but the cops would get called. I don’t need that. The last thing I want is Dad to know I was here. I could get arrested, which would get back to not only Coach, but the college recruiters as well, and fuck my chances up for school.

He stares at my fake ID intensely, his eyes squinting, before he finally hands it back. His teeth clench as he makes my drink and I smirk as he hands it to me.

Take that asshole. My guy knows how to make an ID that’ll fool the police themselves. I turn back to scan the club as I sip on my drink, knowing I don’t need to be drunk when I confront the slut.

It’s about ten minutes later when I see her come back out. She’s wearing a black thong and a sparkly multi-colored bra with a see-through mesh coverup. The slut weaves through the tables, letting her fingertips glide across the men's shoulders. I wonder if their wives or girlfriends know they’re here. Does this Lilac bitch know how many families she’s ruining?

My eyes stay glued to her, observing and analyzing every movement, trying to figure out why my dad would throw away his marriage for her. For any of the women he’s been with.

The more I watch her, the more something tugs at the back of my brain. The way she holds herself, the subtle way she tosses her hair as she talks, and how she shifts her weight back and forth on her feet. All of it is familiar.

But why? I’ve never seen her before. Not until now. Is my mind fucking with me?

I take another small sip, needing to keep my wits about me and not get drunk. My eyes are on her as she swings her legs over a burly man’s lap and straddles him, gyrating her hips on him to the beat of the rap song playing on the speaker.

With each move she makes, my anger rises. Fury at both my father and her. And Sierra. Most of it is steered towards her. She was my best friend, yet she actively sought to destroy my family.

And for what? What did she get from it?

Glancing at my watch, I see it’s getting close to ten and head over to the doorman, Len. I think that’s what he said his name was.

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