Page 2 of Downfall

Holding my tongue, knowing it won’t do any good to argue with her, I slide my platforms on. Making it a point to move as slowly as possible. Because fuck this cunt.

Hazel thinks she’s Queen Bitch of the Fox Hole, but she’s just a bitch. Not one other dancer likes her, and we cannot wait to see her and her Karen-bob hairstyle leave. Unfortunately for us, she has nothing else going for her, and it seems she’s here for the long haul.

Brushing off Hazel’s hostility and the lingering flutters I am still feeling from those piercing green eyes, I make my way to the stage.

Chapter 2

Kolson

MattandAsherfindme every Friday night, like clockwork. Showing up in their expensive suits, acting all high and mighty and douchey, to buy cocaine. They’re already assholes, but a couple of lines each, and they turn into animals. Last weekend, they were boasting to me about getting so high that they didn’t remember getting on Asher’s yacht. They woke up Sunday afternoon in the middle of the Pacific, surrounded by empty bottles and a dozen naked bodies.

But that woman they were yelling to… I can’t stop thinking about the way her eyes locked on mine. Her long, dark hair tucked behind her ears and those dark eyes. She’s tiny, probably a full foot shorter than me, but curvy in all the right places.

I have no idea where she goes this late by herself every weekend, and if I didn’t have these pricks in front of me, I would have been hot on her heels tonight.

She was in leggings and a Green Day t-shirt, nothing fancy, so I imagine she was on her way to a friend’s house to get ready and go out. Probably after a long week making amazing money in finance or marketing. Especially if she lives around here. Downtown San Diego isn’t cheap, so the people living here have family money, great jobs, or, like me, are doing something illegal.

My college career ended early, when I decided that money now was more important than a degree. I still think it is, not that an education doesn’t help in most careers, but people only get degrees to make more money, anyway. If I could make that much now, why wait?

Maybe I would find my ambition again if I found a woman to try for, who needed me. Growing up right on the beach, I wanted—no, needed—to prove to my parents that I could be someone, could make just as much money as they did. To show them that I was worth something and that I could take care of myself. They certainly never took care of me. Working sixty-hour weeks and partying every spare moment isn’t exactly an effective way to raise a child. So I left the day after I graduated and never looked back. I haven’t heard from them, and they haven’t heard from me. I think we all prefer it that way.

College was a breeze, and I would have graduated by now. But I was bored and racking up debt. I needed to pay the bills, so I started dealing cocaine. My friend, Jackson, had been dealing for years and hooked me up. I don’t touch the stuff, never have. My supply is from a reputable—or as reputable as possible—source, and I charge a pretty penny for the privilege of buying from me. So, now, I have a financial advisor and an investment portfolio that grows every day. I’m far from rich, but I’m doing well for myself.

The sound of approaching footsteps pulls me out of my thoughts, and I turn to see my best friend, Ryan, walking toward me, his signature megawatt grin on display.

“Thought you’d be out here. How’s business tonight?” he asks, stopping a couple of feet from me, his hands in his pockets.

“Not bad. The usuals mostly. Where are you headed looking like you just got off work?” He’s still in black slacks and a light blue button-down, a couple buttons undone at the top, making him look more casual.

“Fox Hole. That chick I’ve been seeing works there, so I’m gonna go watch a couple dances and take her home after. I went to her place after work and haven’t been home yet to change.”

“Good luck with that, dude. From what you’ve told me, she sounds like drama waiting to happen.” Between his charm and his bright blue eyes, he could pull any chick he wants. I don’t understand why he’s scraping the bottom of the barrel.

“Yeah, you’re definitely right, and I doubt it will last long, but she’s so hot… and bendy.” He looks at me then, his blue eyes going from wistful over this girl to laser-focused in a second. “Oh, I wanted to ask you about something…” he trails off, but I don’t interrupt, just give him ago onhead nod. “Are you planning on finishing your degree anytime soon? You know I don’t care what you do, man; I just want to get going on that business plan we put together and need to know if you’re in or out. The tech world won’t wait for us.”

Ryan graduated last year like I was supposed to. Then, like the perfect student he is, got his CPA license, along with a new cushy job. And he’s right; if we don’t jump on our idea soon, someone else will.

“Honestly, I’ve been thinking about making a change. I need to get out of this game, but I refuse to work for someone else. I’d rather keep dealing than give up my late nights.” Stability like Ryan has with his job would be nice, but I enjoy sleeping in and working the hours I choose. Nothing is going to change that. I’m not lazy, but my life is, and always will be, my own.

“I get it. Just keep me in the loop, and try not to take too long, okay? I’m ready to move on this, and I don’t want to do it without you. It was your idea, for fuck’s sake. You should be a part of it.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it,” I tell him, my mind wandering back to the brown-eyed beauty from earlier.

“Want to come to the strip club with me? I’ll buy you a lap dance,” he says with a chuckle.

“Nah, I’m good. Enjoy.” I’m staying right here just in case that little siren comes back this way.

Chapter 3

Abby

It’salmostoneinthe morning, and I’m exhausted, but it’s been a great night. I’ve already made more than last Friday, and I still have another set before I get to go home.

Strutting through the club, I see a guy in a backward hat watching me out of the corner of my eye, so I look his direction with a sexy smirk and wink. I don’t have time for a lap dance before my next set, so I keep walking, helping the servers by picking up empty glasses, flirting a bit at each table to pick up some extra tips.

When I get back to the bar with my stack of empties, backward hat guy is waiting for me. Just like I knew he would be. Men in a strip club are so predictable.

I hand the glasses off to the barback and turn to face my admirer, a seductive smile on my face. “Hey, handsome. Looking for me?”

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