Page 10 of Demo

Thankfully, it was fairly mild for the amount of money offered.

Sighing, Paige forced herself to her feet. She had ten minutes to get ready before the offer would expire and open to others again. Walking over to her closet, Paige pulled out the ring light and selfie stand she’d gotten for pennies on the dollar at the pawnshop. Setting up the tripod, Paige looked around her to ensure there was nothing identifying in the shot. Live videos could be disastrous since she didn’t have a chance to review them before they were posted. If one of her sons woke up during the video, it would be even worse. She prayed they would remain asleep, because she desperately needed that five-hundred dollars.

Her stomach growled again as she toed off her shoes. After a quick wash in the bathroom sink, she pulled out her assortment of nail polish. She’d learned quickly to always remove the polish after a video so she could grab new requests without having to take the time to clean any old polish off her toenails.

Swallowing her pride, Paige placed her foot on the overturned crate with a bathroom rug covering it, put on a pedicure toe separator, and started the recording.

Five hundred dollars, she reminded herself with each new coat of red paint. She pictured her sleeping boys in the next room and continued her video. She would suffer through any humiliation to ensure her boys had a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. Even if it meant becoming a foot fetish model.

Thank God this request was mild in comparison to some of the others she’d done. In her current state of mind, she probably would not have been able to stomach some of the more unusual requests.

Like the time she’d had to put little hot dogs between her toes and cover her feet in ketchup, mustard, and relish.

Five hundred dollars…

Five hundred dollars…

The next dayturned out to be a good day. Her electricity did not get turned off. With her new five hundred dollar income—which was actually closer to four hundred and eighty after the fetish site’s fee was deducted and she’d paid the percentage for an instant transfer of funds—Paige had called the electric company to pay her outstanding bill. It was then that she was informed there had been an error in the system and she’d been overpaying her bill for months. Once the error had been corrected, she actually had a credit on her account that should cover the next month’s bill too.

Which meant she could put that five hundred dollars towards her outstanding bill for her clinic’s lease. If she hadn’t signed a two year lease, she would have closed her doors permanently for lack of business. She honestly wasn’t even sure why she tried to stay open with only five to ten clients per week. This small town was not open to having a Chinese medicine clinic in their midst.

No sooner had that thought come through did she get two notifications from her website’s scheduling system that she had new client appointments for the upcoming week.

Harper and Lucky came over to pick up her boys to take them to the park for a snowball fight. With a couple of hours kid-free, Paige started cleaning the house and did several loads of laundry. Thank God her water was from a well and not city water or she would have had to pay that bill too.

Another request came in from the foot fetish website. She quickly grabbed it, even though it was only for a hundred and fifty dollars. They wanted to watch her wash her feet in a bubble bath. Paige had to empty one of her dead potted plants she had yet to throw out all over her feet to get themfilthyper the request first and then drew a bubble bath. She wore a bathing suit despite the instructions for her to be naked. With the tripod set up over her bathtub, Paige took a bath with her dirt-covered feet.

The next request that came in had a different timeframe than the others. Thank God for that, because she was able to text Harper to ask her to pick up a cake from the bakery on her way home. Paige came up with some PMS craving excuse that hopefully her sister-in-law would not question. As soon as the boys went to bed that night, she would bring her tripod out to the kitchen and walk in the requested red velvet cake for three hundred dollars. The only instruction was that she had tosquishthe cake between her toes for five or more minutes.

She could do that. Though she’d have to add red velvet cake to her list of ruined food items. Hot dogs and gelatin were also on that list.

By the time she laid her head on her pillow Sunday night, she’d earned another four hundred and fifty dollars. Not to mention some of her photos had sold on the fetish siteandshe had two new clients on the schedule for her week. Hopefully, it was a sign that things were looking up.

Demo grimacedas he pulled into the parking spot on Main Street. He was a couple doors down from Paige’s clinic,Serenity Springs.Normally, he didn’t mind the winter months that prevented the club from riding their bikes. Shortly before he’d been shot, Demo had purchased a newFordBronco Raptor. The off-roading vehicle had been his birthday present to himself and an encouragement to start going on more outdoor adventures. Despite his job as an accountant, Demo enjoyed the outdoors and exploring nature. However, since his injury, he’d been unable to take his kayak out or hike any length of time that required a supply backpack or to go rock climbing. He hadn’t even been able to finish out the club’s season with them since his doctor had prohibited him from riding hisHarley-DavidsonHeritage Classic.

Demo did not want to admit to himself or anyone else how badly driving still pained him. The way he drove with his shoulder rolled back, his elbow tucked in, and his hand sticking out from his chest, he honestly thought he looked like a demented chicken or a T-rex. Reaching with his right hand to unlock the cage’s door, he slid out into the slush-covered road.

Flinching, Demo worked his left arm through his cut before sliding it up his arm. The pull of the action sent fire shooting down his limb and up the side of his neck. Fucking Steelmighthave had a point that his pain was getting out of hand. The cold weather of January certainly was not helping.

On the back of Demo’s cut were five large patches that were all identical, regardless of one’s position in the club. In the center was a horned demon skull with crossing rifles behind it. The skull was missing its lower jaw.Via Daemonia, which was Latin forRoad Demon, was on the top downward curved rocker. The lower upward curved rocker saidMount Grove, PA.Two rectangular patches paralleled the skull with the Latin phrasesCum Honore MinistravimusandCum Honore Equitamus, which translated toWith Honor We ServedandWith Honor We Ride,respectively. The embroidery on the rockers was white with a black background.

Last winter, Jenna had ordered winter coats with the club cuts sewn into the material so the members didn’t have to bother with having their jacketandcut. Demo thought the action was sweet and he did appreciate the forethought. However, the leather jacket had a tricky zipper and Demo had discovered he’d been unable to get his shoulder to cooperate long enough for him to zip it up two-handed. His current jacket was older with a worn zipper that was fairly loose.

Trudging up onto the sidewalk, his shitkickers protected his feet from the snow and slush on the ground. Tying shoelaces was another issue he’d come across in recent months. Unfortunately, he could no longer get away with summer sandals without drawing negative attention to his situation. Thankfully, he wasn’t planning on running any miles today. He’d figured out that he could tie his boots loosely before putting them on and then tighten them by pulling on the knot. It still left them loose, and they would continuously get looser the more he walked, but at least he was able to get them on and his plight wasn’t obvious.

Paige’s clinic had an LED lotus sign in the window. Above the door on the brick was a cute swinging wooden sign that said her business name and had an etching of a curved human back with three needles sticking out like porcupine spikes.

Demo let out an involuntary shudder that had nothing to do with his shoulder pain or the cold morning. He didn’t have a fear of needles, per se, but he was not looking forward to getting poked and prodded by a multitude of them at once or seeing them sticking out of his skin.

He was no coward, though, and he knew Steel would hogtie and deliver him to Paige himself if he did not suck it up and get this over with on his own. Letting out a puff of visible air, Demo squared his shoulders and entered the clinic.

Paige’s moneyproblems were apparent as soon as he walked through the door. The entry was small with a four foot reception desk facing the door attached to the left wall. No computer or electronics littered the empty reception desk. The waiting chairs immediately to Demo’s right upon entering had a layer of dust on the cushions. No bell or chime signaled his entry into the clinic—which he did not like. Though the smell of disinfectant was in the air, there weren’t any aromas or scents that Demo would have thought an acupuncture clinic would have like lavender or peppermint.

Only some of the overhead lights were on. One might be able to argue that she was keeping the lights low for aesthetics or even that a lightbulb or two were out, but something told Demo that wasn’t the case. More likely, she was trying to keep her electric bill low.

The room was not unclean. In fact, other than the dust on the chairs, it was extremely tidy. Demo could see the pride in the place, from the flowers in the vase on the reception desk to the freshly cleaned windows behind him. Lack of clients had not diminished Paige’s obvious love for the place.

A small fishbowl sat on the counter, filled halfway, with something floating in it. It wasn’t a fish, dead or alive. Demo took a step forward, lowering his nose to the glass. It was a lily pad and lotus spinning around on the water. The center of the lotus was empty. Based on the shape, though, Demo assumed it wasn’t supposed to be. Maybe it was missing a candle? The bowl definitely wasn’t for anything living.

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