Page 84 of Scent to the Feral Cowboys
Lucky.
There was that damn word again.
For a moment, I’d really thought I could have a life in Seattle. For a moment, I had been Lucky Star of Club Midnight.
Lucky…
I wanted to bury that word six feet under. Rip it from the dictionary. Never hear it spoken aloud again.
21
NELLY
One day ago…
[Almost present day]
Goodbye, Club Midnight
“Mister Grouse, we’re falling behind schedule.” The Beta who’d been keeping the door closed dropped his hand to the knob and opened the exit.
“Yes, yes. Let’s finish up here. Ms. Shaw, please lead the way to gather your belongings.” The man with the tablet waved a hand, inviting me to leave. But it wasn’t an invitation. It’s never an invitation if it comes with handcuffs.
I glanced one last time at Vince, searching for any sign of sympathy or reconsideration. He was shuffling papers, clearly ignoring me now. He’d already written me off. I felt something harden inside me.
"Fine," I said, lifting my chin. "Let's get this over with."
How do I get out of this? How do I fight a contract I signed? Can’t be legal. There’s just no way…The words sounded hollow in my brain. The two larger Betas sandwichedme as we left Vince’s office. The man with the tablet and folder followed behind. The trio was so calm, like they’d gone through these motions so many times before that they didn’t need to think. They operated on autopilot as they stripped an Omega’s freedom.
Moving towards the changing room was an out of body experience. My feet moved forward while my thoughts scattered in a thousand directions, searching for escape routes that didn't exist. The familiar corridor with its scuffed floors and exposed pipes overhead seemed suddenly alien—a passage in someone else's life, not mine. How many times had I walked this way, anticipating the night ahead, counting potential tips in my head? Now I was walking it for the last time, escorted like a prisoner to collect the remnants of yet another life that was being stripped away.
When we got to dancer’s dressing room, the frontmost Beta pushed its door open, then stood to the side. The other two Eros minions moved to hover in the hallway leading to the club’s back exit. My leaden legs carried me into the achingly familiar space which smelled of sweat and perfume and makeup. Each step felt so heavy.Was this how normal people felt? Did people who hadn’t been trained to be light on their feet, to fly across a stage, to spin as if suspended by strings always walk as if they wore ankle weights?
I inhaled deeply.
I wanted to remember the scent of this place.
It had become my home away from home. Once, I could not imagine this kind of life for me—hungry, perverted eyes watching my scantily clad body before their needful, sweaty fingers tossed money on stage. Now, I wanted this life. It was mine.Why did everything get taken from me?
There was nothing to grab here. No drawer to open for a stray lipstick or brush. I’d just wanted to see this space again. I’d just wanted to say goodbye.
When I walked out only holding the compact athletic bag I’d arrived with, the men looked confused. I didn’t explain, instead walking to the employee bathroom.
The scarred Beta followed close behind me, this time entering the bathroom instead of staying outside with the door opened. Maybe because the entrance led to a quick left turn down a short hall, which protected occupants from being seen when the door wasn’t closed.
Inside my locker were the mundane artifacts of my double life: a clean set of street clothes folded neatly on the upper shelf, a backup stage outfit, along with a spare pair of heels nested in the bottom of the metal cavity. My touch-up makeup bag hung from a hook. I grasped the book I’d been reading on my breaks first, a bookmark cutting halfway through. A love story. I’d never want to finish the damn thing now. I pulled down the photo of my grandparents I’d taped to the inside of the locker door. It was a newer one, both of their faces covered in wrinkles. Tears pricked my eyes when I looked at Grandpa’s face too long. I was glad he wasn’t around to see me crash and burn yet again. Quickly, I slipped the picture into the book for safe keeping.
“You’ve got five more minutes,” the Beta said gruffly.
Fresh rage flooded through me, but I had nowhere to direct it. Unzipping the duffel, I pushed the book inside. Then, I snatched everything out of the locker, piling it into my arms, and I stomped over to the trash can, tossing it all inside.
“There, are you happy?” I growled at him.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me if you take your shit or leave it here. They’ll probably burn it regardless.”
I didn’t know what that meant. Why would they destroy my things? He was probably just being a jerk. As if on death row, Imarched slowly out of the bathroom. They directed me down the hall, towards the back entrance. We pushed out into the fading sunlight. The alley looked as it always did, unchanged though everything had changed for me. I was leaving Club Midnight, exiting the very same way I’d first arrived—in the back alley, looking hopeless. The Betas were already marching towards a black SUV.
“Nelly, you’ll be okay!” A voice shouted to me, and I turned.
