Charity Read online

  Copyright © 2014 by Davida Lynn. All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Mayhem Cover Creations

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Also By Davida Lynn:

  The Virtues Series:

  Book One: Hope

  Book Two: Faith

  Standalone Work:

  Brutal

  Acknowledgements

  To my grandmother, because she will always keep me honest and humble.

  “And you're a very sexy girl that's very hard to please.” It was my favorite part of the song. At this point in my dance, I was upside down, my legs squeezing the pole as I slid downwards. The second my hands came off the pole, I would let myself drop just a moment. When I squeezed and caught myself, the crowd of men would go nuts.

  Against the pink and purple lights bathing the stage, I could see the men shoving for a free spot around the runway. They were crowding around, bills waving frantically in their hands. I smiled, singling one out. When I saw his expression change -it always did when you gave them personal attention- I gave him a wink.

  Guns N’ Roses went on as I slid down, pulling myself into a handstand. I released my legs from the pole, bringing them back to the runway floor in a controlled and careful movement. I bent forward at the hips, giving the audience the rear view they’d been waiting for. I could hear from the cheers that they were satisfied.

  Somewhat satisfied. The patrons at a strip club are never truly satisfied. It’s the business model. Leave them always wanting more, and they’ll always come back for it.

  I straightened up again and made my way back down the runway. Looking out past the stage lights, I saw some of my co-workers. Angel, whose real name was Stacy, was serving drinks tonight. She was recovering from a pulled hamstring and needed a few nights off the stage. Heaven, and that was her actual name, was behind the bar, pouring a line of shots for a group that had just come into the club.

  I looked down at the men gathered around the runway, and that was when I spotted him. The routine already had my heart racing, but seeing him almost made me lose control. My eyes widened for a split second before turning back into the smoldering Kitty Kat eyes I’d perfected on stage. My heart, on the other hand—that wasn't so easy to control.

  I tried to get a hold of my emotions, but my mind was racing. It had been nearly a month since I’d seen him last, and I’d thought it was the last time. That devious, hungry look was on his face, and it scared me.

  Changing up the routine, I headed back to the curtains, shaking my tits to the words that Axl Rose was singing. Near the door to backstage, our DJ booth sat bathed in red lights. Calvin was manning the tunes, but he was also the dancers’ liaison and part of the muscle for the club. Any problems went through him. He was one hell of a bouncer.

  Grabbing onto the railing, I leaned forward, letting my heels slide on the slick surface. As I spread my legs and sank to an almost horizontal stance, I yelled to him. Through the pounding music, he’d barely be able to hear me.

  “He’s back, Cal. Halfway down the runway, the Kings t-shirt.” I jerked my head in that direction, frustrated at myself for my own stupid mistake. The mistake that was still haunting me.

  Calvin looked toward the crowd. He pulled the headphones down to his neck and leaned forward. I had to get back to the crowd. My song was nearly over.

  I could hear Axl sing, “it’s gonna bring you down,” and I made the decision to improvise a big finish. It would get me at the front of the stage to collect my cash, and make up for disappearing briefly.

  As Axl gave his last rockin’ “huh” to end the song, I ran down the runway, dropping to my knees and sliding toward the pole. The lights faded as the audience went crazy. I stopped with the pole between my legs, not three inches from slamming me right in the cookie, the product of a bit of luck and a lot of practice.

  As I leaned back, panting in the darkness, I grasped at the money the men had thrown onto the stage. The club was busy, even for a Saturday, and I’d take home nearly seven hundred dollars if things kept up. With rent due soon, and bills piling up, it should have put me at ease. I was anything but at ease, though.

  I heard Calvin’s voice, and I reached out for the last of the bills as he talked me offstage. “That was Charity. Remember, guys, give generously. Stick around, because in just a few minutes, Heaven is going to be coming around with some shots. Them shits is gonna be cheap as hell!”

  By the time he finished up and threw on some Poison, I was backstage, pulling off the stilettos and running for the back office. I had to talk to Leonard. I expected messages on my phone when I got back to my locker. It didn’t matter how many times I changed my number. Jason always found out.

  With the ridiculous shoes off my feet, I padded down the hallway to the manager’s door. It was half open, and I saw Leonard leaning over a book. He was planning out the schedule for the next week. As much as I needed to tell him, I froze seeing him working the schedule. I’d already caused trouble with my ex before.

  The last time I had to tell Leonard, I was off the calendar for two weeks. No explanation, no warning, no nothing. The bills all went on the credit card, and I had to pull everything else together for the rent. I stood outside his office with that thought in my head as my heart pounded. If Leonard wasn’t in a forgiving mood, my estimated seven hundred bucks might have to carry me for another two weeks.

  With a silent sigh, I headed back to the dressing room. I was going to have to figure Jason out on my own. Calvin would make sure Jason was thrown out of the club for the rest of the night, and he wouldn't tell the boss about it. That was just one night, though. He’d be back. He always came back.

  I walked into the dressing room. One wall was lined with mirrors, light bulbs surrounding each one. The other side of the room was lockers. Each dancer had more than one to accommodate all our different outfits. I had between eight and ten different changes of clothes in mine. Despite how skimpy most of them were, they sure took up plenty of room.

  Ellen was putting on some eye shadow when I came in. “Hey, Jazmine,” I said, heading back to my locker to fish out my phone. As a rule, we tended to stick with the stage names while we were still on the clock. Every single one of us had dealt with a stalker or creepy customer at one point in our lives, and we never risked someone overhearing our real names.

  “Charity, you are raking it in tonight! How many more stage dances are you doing?” She looked at my reflection in the mirror, one of her eyes held open as she penciled around it.

  I was distracted, digging through my bag for my phone, “Hmm? Oh, two more tonight, then I’m off.” I fished around past thongs, makeup cases, and costume jewelry, finally grasping at the phone. When I pulled it out, of course it was flashing notifications at me.

  I hit the button to light up the screen. I had three texts from Jason.

  Missin u

  R U dancing 2nite?

  Cant stand it, Im comin by. Gotta C U

  I deleted the messages. My pulse was already too high, and I couldn’t let the anxiety get to me.

  As I came back to the long table to sit down, she had her mouth open, sculpting her look with care. “Nice night. I’ve just got one on stage. Going to have to really work the crowd afterwards.”

  Ellen wasn’t new. She just needed to work on her choreography. I’d offered to work with her twice, but she’d politely declined. I wouldn't ask a third time. She’d either learn or she wouldn’t. We were all good to each other, but even that only went so far in this business.

  I smiled at her, but I was distracted. My eyes were locked on my phone. What Jason said had me scared, and
my mind was elsewhere. “Yeah, big crowd, at least.”

  She must have noticed how distant I was, because she stopped talking and looked at me pointedly. I turned to her.

  “He’s not back, is he?” I nodded. “Oh, Charity, fuck that guy. Enough is enough. Leonard needs to know. We gotta do something.”

  I knew she was right. Enough was enough, but it wasn’t that simple. It rarely was.

  “Jaz, if Leo finds out, he’ll pull me from the weekend shifts. He doesn’t want trouble, especially with someone like Jason.” I dropped the phone onto the counter and lowered my voice. “I need that money pretty badly. Calvin already kicked him out, so everything should be just fine.”

  Ellen grabbed my hand and yanked it. She’d been through her own domestic issues, and it showed, “Just fine?” She pulled down her bra, exposing herself to me. The scar along the bottom of her breast was very apparent. “I thought things were just fine, too.”

  Ellen’s boyfriend had attacked her with a pocket knife when she wouldn’t give him half of her earnings. He’d threatened to sell her for sex, and threatened her two small boys that lived with their grandmother. She’d been lucky to get out alive.

  My eyes were glued on the scar. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I mean. Jason just gets a little depressed and misses me.”

  She dropped my hand and covered her scar back up, “Yeah, Johnny missed me a lot, too.”

  Ellen went back to her makeup like I wasn't even there. She was mad, and it was understandable. It wasn’t as easy as just leaving. She put up with stalking and abuse for weeks and weeks before he got put away. I thought she was a brave woman for even coming back to work, but she had two kids to support. I guessed she felt safer with him behind bars, too.

  Her eyeliner was done, and she glanced at the clock. “I’m on in just a few.” She stood, excitedly straightening her clothes out. She turned back to me. “Charity, in all seriousness, this Jason problem isn’t going to go away until he does. I know you’re in a bind, but maybe you could find a strong and handsome benefactor to keep you safe?”

  With that, she headed out the door, leaving me alone in the dressing room. Her words made me sit up straight in the chair. I turned my attention back to the mirror. I had been dealing with my ex for more than two months. Just when I’d thought he’d given up on me, I’d find a heart scratched into the side of my car, or he’d show up at work. Enough was enough. Something had to be done.

  Ellen was right. I was in a bind, and I was going to have to find someone willing to help me out with my little problem. I laughed aloud in the dressing room. Little problem was a fucking joke. There was nothing little about my issue. Having a deranged and obsessive cop after you is no small problem.

  I put my head into my hands at the makeup table. Without looking, I reached forward and switched off the bulbs surrounding the mirror. I was already sweating, and only half of that was from my dance. The other half was the weight I’d been carrying for two months.

  Jason and I had met in the club. Where else? I remembered his first words: “You’re the only black girl here, aren't you?”

  Those words should have been a red flag, but there was something alluring about him. Once I’d found out that he was a cop, I was hooked. For as long as I could remember, I’d always had a thing for powerful men. Sometimes it was firefighters, sometimes cops, sometimes it was guys from the military. They always came into the club, and they always got their money’s worth from me, but Jason was the first one that I’d taken a chance on outside the club.

  I’d given him my number, and we went out. It became clear in a hurry that Jason didn’t have much going on upstairs. He was ripped and loved spending money on me, so I let it slide at the time. It also became clear that he was interested in me almost exclusively because my skin was, “the color of delicious caramel,” in his words.

  I snapped out of it soon enough. I was already planning on ending things with him when he came to the club on a Saturday night a few months ago. As I was in the middle of my routine, he began to shove some of the guys in the crowd, yelling at them not to catcall. Calvin was on him in seconds, and as he dragged my then-boyfriend out the door, Jason shouted at me that I was a “slut, a good-for-nothing whore, and a dirty tramp.” The stage show ended quickly that night.

  Leonard banned him from the club—at least, that was what he told me. A week later, I caught him back by the bar while I was making the rounds for lap dances. When I mentioned being banned, he laughed.

  “I think your sleazy boss knows when to keep out of other peoples’ business. I could have half the clients in here arrested for lewd behavior, and I could get the health department to fine this place into the ground. Your boss knows that. He’s not going to ban me from shit, if he knows what’s good for him.”

  Then he’d pulled out a twenty dollar bill and brushed it over my chest. “Now, how about a blowie, baby?”

  When I told my boss about it for the second time, I found myself with a two-week vacation without pay. It kept me out of the club, which kept Jason out. Ellen was right. I had to solve this problem outside of work, but I only had one solution that presented more questions than it answered.

  Who could I get to go up against Jason? He’d never physically attacked me, but he was an ex-Marine in phenomenal shape. He was a cop, and he had plenty of friends on the force. And the worst thing was that I had no idea what he was capable of.

  I had to find someone that would probably work for cheap, wasn’t afraid of the cops, and would be physically able to scare Jason away. If he couldn't scare him away, I needed someone willing to fight for me.

  I heard someone come through the back door of the club, and I sprung up. Looking in the mirror, I saw Alana with her Day-Glo orange bag. She had been at the Cherry Stem as long as I had, and we’d taken a few self-defense classes together. She was one of my closest friends, and I relaxed when I saw the bright bag come through the door.

  “Hey, Princess.” I smiled at her, standing to give her a hug.

  “Charity,” she happily replied. We embraced. As we rocked back and forth, Jason disappeared from my mind. I felt a sense of calm that had been missing since I spotted him in the crowd among the other men.

  When she broke the hug, she looked at me, reading me almost instantly, “What’s up?”

  After a long sigh, I decided that I didn’t want to spell it out again. Ellen had given me some great advice. Besides, I knew what Alana would suggest. She’d come up with a plan where we followed Jason home and beat his ass. Alana took the self-defense classes to motivate me and so we could hang out. She’d actually been a kick boxer, in another life.

  I helped train her on the pole, and she helped train me on building strength and skills. One of the first things she’d passed on to me was a few simple finger bends that would incapacitate anyone stupid enough to violate the “no touching” rule at the Cherry Stem.

  When I’d first started dancing, I really had no idea how handsy the clients were. I learned quick. On more than one occasion, I bent fingers back or bent wrists in ways that would bring tears to grown men’s eyes. Calvin or one of the other bouncers would see what was up, they would take over from there.

  Alana had been stripping for longer, but I had danced all my life. Switching to the pole was easy, especially after a degree in dance. I helped her with routines, and we practiced together in a studio during the week.

  She and I had become top earners for the Cherry Stem, even though Leonard refused to acknowledge that. Alana and I had choreographed dances with both of us for one Friday night a month. Those had been some of our busiest nights. Leonard said it must have been the internet marketing he’d been doing.

  As she got ready, I returned to the makeup table to think. The answer I had been searching for didn’t come from me, though. It came from Ellen as she walked back into the dressing room after her dance.

  Ellen had a wide grin on her face and a glistening across her forehead—springtime in California comb
ined with a shitty A/C. She dropped into the seat right next to me. I jumped a little bit as she did.