Page 25 of Lovers Fate

“I didn’t want to, but then...” She pauses. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see myself living anywhere else. My mom lives here, and college here isn’t so bad. There are worse places.”

I wouldn’t know, but I can’t tell her that.

She parks in front of a strip mall with a few local stores. I end up finding something to wear at a store that sells novelty items. I was surprised to find they had a kink section filled with an assortment of condoms, sex toys, dance heels, and the typeof outfits that only cover your nipples and the slit between your legs.

I did find two decent outfits on the “buy one, get one” clearance rack for five bucks. I was relieved when Rose offered to buy me lunch. I had twenty bucks to my name until my shift at the club, and it couldn’t come fast enough.

TEN

After a monthand a half working at the Church, it was the end of September, and I had enough money saved to rent an apartment. The problem was, the motel was closer to the club, and I didn’t have a car so what I would save on renting an apartment, I would spend on transportation because walking wasn’t an option with that news reporting another girl had gone missing. I needed a car and I didn’t have enough to buy one at the used car dealership and or credit to get a loan. I also had to factor in, car insurance, gas, food, and utilities.

Rachel offered me a couple of her regulars to have sex with to earn extra cash, but I declined. Having sex with strangers for money was my hard limit. It was also illegal.

Every night, I’d dance, shake my ass, but I wouldn’t let a stranger touch my pussy. I never had sex before and didn’t plan on telling anyone at Church, or that I’ve never had a boyfriend or kissed a guy.

“Are you sure, Trix?” Rachael asks, looking at me through the reflection of the mirror. “I can refer you to one of the nice ones. You know, until you make what you need for a car.”

“Thanks, Rachel, but I’m sure.”

Rachel doesn’t see me as a threat and is one of the few that has been nice to me. Unlike Gina, who is giving me a dirty look sitting next to Rachel as she cakes on more foundation to hide the dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep and too much cocaine.

After that first night at the motel, I never saw Gina again with that good-looking college boy. Sure, she’s been there with other guys. It’s how most girls make ends meet around here on slower days since college started.

I quickly learned that the motel was the preferred destination for drug addicts and men who frequently frequented The Church. The motel was also a stop for truckers, married men living in town, and college kids who were starting school and waiting for their dorm assignments.

One of the girls pops her head in from the dressing room door and calls out, “Hey, Trix?” I look up. “You’re up, baby.”

I sigh and take one last look at my clown outfit. It’s the same outfit I wore on the first night. I rub my lips together, feeling the smooth black lipstick on them. My six-inch red platform heels force me to bend as I check my clown makeup in the vanity mirror, black tears streaming down my cheeks. I look like I belong in a circus, but the crowd seems to like it.

“Go get ‘em, Trix,” Rachael says with a bright smile.

It’s my third time on stage. The first two times, I danced on days when there weren’t many people seated at the tables, and I surprised everyone. Even myself.

The girls said I was good. Rachel still thinks I’m jerking her chain when I told her I’ve never danced on stage before. She said there was no way I didn’t pay for professional lessons, but I didn’t. When I walked on stage under the bright neon lights and the music started to play, it’s like my body knew what to do and my mind checked out.

Pushing through the curtains at the back of the stage, I catch Jules through the curtains wiping down the pole before she walks toward me.

“They’re here,” she says, her eyes glittering with excitement.

“Who’s here?” I ask.

“The guys that dress up like it’s Halloween,” she says, then lowers her voice. “The ones that work at the haunted carnival.” I try to look behind her, but she blocks my view and continues, “It’s five of them. They show up this time of year when the circus arrives in town. You can always find them in the crowd. They stand out from the other guys who wear masks. They tip well, and if they like a girl on stage, they tip really well,” she says, like winning a lottery ticket. “They’re loaded, Trix. Hot. Mysterious. Beautiful. The best part is they appreciate girls like us. There are no filthy men or women who have a crush on girls at a strip club that give you the shivers, and tonight, it is a full house on a Friday night.”

I step to the side and peer out through the curtain, making sure no one can see me. She isn’t wrong. There are about two hundred people—some with masks, others not caring to wear one. The group seated at the front of the stage, with costumes and painted faces, draws my attention. She was referring to the group of five people. My eyes are drawn to the man seated in the center with a black top hat and painted face resembling a horror clown, making it difficult for me to see him clearly. My gaze dips to his long legs. He is so tall, the chair he is sitting on looks like he borrowed it from a kiddie table.

“Do they have names?”

She leans close behind me, peering over my shoulder. “No one knows, and no one asks.”

“How come?” I ask softly.

“Why mess up a beneficial thing by asking too many questions? Some believe they’re also part of the circus, because when the circus leaves, so do they.”

“They don’t come back?” I ask curiously.

She shakes her head. “Nope. Mid-September to the third of November. After that, they’re gone. No names, no numbers, but they leave alotta dough.”

“Do they…” I trail off.

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