Page 107 of Trip Through Your Wires

I cannot let Richardson win. I cannot let him think he has me where he wants me. When this song is over, I am telling Jake everything and he is going to help me take that son of a bitch down. Because that is what you do when you have given your heart to someone. You have their backs, no matter what. And I know Jake has mine.

Until then, I have to make it through this dance, so instead of copying what I have seen the other girls do, I use my body to tell my own story. One that is not part of this club, but my heart.

By some strange twist of fate, Jake is here, and I want to show him why I am dancing. Ellery and Cruz, and the future they deserve, and Jake and I, and the chapters we have yet to write…they are why I am here. My zany, strong, beautiful, family that I found and could not live without.

I glide back over to Jake, and straddle his lap once more, grinding against him the way I do when it’s just the two of us. The hard length of his erection under his jeans rubs up and down the lace of my G-string, igniting my nerves and stirring a fire in my core.

Before I work us both up too much, I bend backward until my hair skims the ground, and with my legs locked around his, let go of the chair and place both hands on the ground, and bring my legs up overhead, coming down into the splits.

From where I am on the floor, I can see under the ballcap and Jake’s eyes are blown, not in disgust but lust. His hands grip the chair, white knuckled, and knowing that he trusts me to do this for whatever reason I have to, I push back up, confidence flowing through me.

I canvass the stage once more, dancing as if I am in Ellery’s living room, the two of us sixteen again, laughing and dancing as MTV plays in the background. Then I spin around and around like I am twirling with my Momma in our backyard like we used to do when I was a girl. But as I shimmy back over to the chair and stand in front of Jake, I move my hips slowly like I did that first night we had sex while reaching for the bow tie in the front of the baby doll and pull it free.

It flutters down my body, landing at my feet in soft waves of chiffon, as I place my hands on my hips and move them around and around like a Hula dancer. My tits stand at attention, nipples hard under the daisy pasties staring back at him, and I have never felt more powerful or adored in all my life.

I know the men came here to see my body. To get an eyeful of what they hope to have. But I am not for sale. My body, my heart, belongs to the guy in the chair in front of me, so my ass, which is as covered as it is while I’m on the beach, will have to do.

Cheers and whistles erupt, the audience hungry for me to turn around, but I defy their desires and satisfy my own. I reach for Jake’s knees and yank his legs apart—the groan I hear over the music, telling me his dick is painfully hard—and when I bring them back together and straddle his lap once more, I grab the back of the chair and bring my chest to his.

My heart is pounding, my breathing fast, but when the lights start to fade, followed by the music’s end and the curtain falling, he wraps one arm around my waist and with his other hand, grabs my chin and kisses me. With the safety of the curtain and darkness of the stage protecting us, I wrap both arms around him, and return the kiss as if my life depends on it.

He holds me tight as our teeth gnash and tongues tangle, and when the lights start to come back on, I pull back, breathless. “We have to go.”

I slip off his lap and reach for his hand, yanking him from the chair and hurrying over to the side of the stage. Some routines end with the dancers collecting cash from the customers, while others disappear behind the curtain, leaving the collection up to a staff member who makes their way around the crowd like it’s the offertory during church. Right now, a staff member is collecting money from the grubby hands of customers, and it’s our chance to get out of here.

“Where is he?” I ask Mamma as I hurry down the stairs, Jake’s hand in mine.

“Tending to business.” She flicks her eyes down the hall then looks back at me. “Take the back exit. Go now.”

I throw my arms around her neck and squeeze tight. “Thank you.”

She pats my back, smoothing her hand down over my hair. “The moment I saw you, I knew you didn’t belong here. You were destined for the same greatness I saw in your momma.”

I pull back slowly, looking at her. “What?”

She places a hand on my cheek and smiles. “Someday maybe the universe will bring us back together and I can explain. Right now, you need to get that boy out of here.”

I rush to the dressing room and let go of Jake’s hand, kicking off my heels, and pulling on my jeans, before throwing on my T-shirt and slipping into my shoes. The lace of the G-string is bunched up my ass and the pasties are stuck on so tight they hurt, but I don’t care. I need to get out of here.

Grabbing my bag I sling it over my shoulder cross-body style and reach for his hand again. He closes it around mine, holding it tight, and we bolt out of the dressing room and down the hall toward the back deck.

As I reach the end, I see a door cracked open to my left. It’s a supply closet I think. I saw a staff member open it and stash a broom inside once. I glance inside, a habit from snooping the past few days, and when I see a sliver of light coming from the inside corner, I stop to check it out.

“What are you doing?” Jake whispers urgently. “We have to go.”

“Hold on,” I hold up my hand.

Stepping into the closet, I look around, seeing the expected items: broom, bucket, shelves of cleaning supplies. But when I place my hand on the back wall to check for the source of the light in the corner, it opens. I look at Jake, mouth open, as a circular staircase comes into view.

I give him a look that says let’s check it out and he shakes his head. When I widen my eyes further to indicate I’m telling, not asking, he takes a deep breath, then pulls me back and steps in front of me.

Holding a finger to his lips, he starts down the stairs, back flat against the wall, and I do the same. Light from an unknown source fills the stairwell and when we hit the last stair, and find ourselves in a hallway, I find the cause. Lining the hall to our right is a series of gas lanterns, and to our left, nothing but darkness.

Making our way down the hall to the right, I look around noting the age of the stone. I would have never guessed this was beneath the club, then again, there are tunnels all over the south. Remnants from long ago when the nation was at war.

The hallway comes to a fork, with another dark hall to the left, and a door to the right. Jake stops short and pulls back when we hear voices on the other side.

He leans in and places his ear against the wood, while I crouch down and peer through the keyhole. On the other side is a room, well maintained with a roaring fireplace, bookshelves flanking the sides, and a large mahogany desk with a leather chair behind it.

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