Page 15 of Wicked Lies

“You could make an easy five hundred a night in the VIP rooms downstairs. Have three grand back in a week.”

The VIP rooms consisted of cum-stained couches, a boom box, and a red light bulb glaring from the ceiling. Plenty of the girls subsidized their income that way, but Cheryl didn’t believe she’d ever be so desperate.

“But you think you’re too good for that.” Sal’s leer made her long for another shower.

“Spreading my legs for the bums who come in this place and fuckin’ for money. Yeah, I am too good for that.”

“Your mother never had a problem with it. From what I hear she—”

“Leave my mother out of this.” A prickling heat surrounded Cheryl’s neck. She didn’t need to hear another rendition of how her mother went from being a high-end escort to giving ten-dollar blowjobs. Apparently, Sal knew her mother back in the day, and it was one of his favorite stories. The one he liked to pull out when he wanted to make her feel small. Not that his life had turned out so much better, managing one of the sleaziest strip clubs in town for the Russian mob.

“There is another way.” Sal plastered a smarmy grin on his pudgy face.

“I know I’m going to hate this, but how?”

“By wrapping those nice plump lips around my cock. You do it a few times, and I might be convinced to split the three grand with you.”

“So, if I suck you off, you’ll be willing to split my own money with me?”

“That’s right.” He cupped his junk, and Cheryl’s stomach pitched.

She curled her lip at Sal’s too-small t-shirt, exposing his hairy, fat gut hanging over his dirty jeans. “You sure I’d be able to find it.”

“Bitch.”

“I can’t believe you think you’ll get away with stealing my money and throwing out my clothes.” She slapped her hands on her hips. “Maybe I’ll just call the cops and see what they say. You got like a million violations in this dump.”

“Good idea. Why don’t you call the cops? Then I can tell them how I saw you and Jimmy fighting in the back hall right before one of the bartenders found him dead in the alley.”

Cheryl forced herself not to react.

“I’ll even throw in the part about how you and Jimmy pulled off some big-time heists.”

“You have no proof.”

“But I do know the fence he used, and he’d be more than willing to rat you out if it meant saving his own ass.”

Cheryl couldn’t afford to piss Sal off, not when he held her future hostage.

“Why don’t you reconsider one of my offers? Work the VIP rooms or work for me personally.” Again he flashed a smarmy grin, and she wanted to barf.

“Forget it. Don’t think you’re gonna get away with stealing my money.”

“You keep getting it twisted. That money is owed to me for your back rent, so you can forget about ever getting your hands on it again.”

“Fine.” She yanked open the kitchen cabinet, pulled out a garbage bag, then stomped into the bedroom. She pulled open the bureau drawers and thankfully her t-shirts, sweatpants, underwear and a pair of shorts and jeans were still there. She jammed it all in the garbage bag.

“You’re making this much harder than it has to be.” Sal grinned. “A few hours and you’d have three thousand plus.”

She threw Sal one last dirty look and left.

6

The persistent buzzing of Nick’s cell phone and the bright sunshine streaming through the windows doomed his morning before it even began. Squinting at the glare, he checked the caller ID and sighed. Everyone knew he didn’t open his eyes before noon except for the one person who didn’t give a shit.

“Yeah, Frank?”

“I need to see you.”

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