Corrupted (6 page)

As I sweep the mascara through my lashes, I “X” off another day on the calendar. One more week until I’m eighteen.

“Lucy!” I hear Tracie calling me and peek out my door. “I need you, Luce!” I slip on my boots and go to find her.

“Tracie the answer is no! Absolutely not! She is still a damn minor and she isn’t allowed to leave.” Jordan and Tracie are arguing when I find them.

“Well, it ain’t up to you. I got the all clear, already.” She shoots him a dirty look and then her eye catches mine.

“Luce, I need you to bail me out. I just tested all those damn whores at Ambrosia and they are all on fucking drugs. I don’t know who the hell has been supplying them, but I’m screwed. I need a dancer tonight. You’re my only option.” My eyes bug out of my head. Ambrosia is the strip club the MC owns.

“I-I’m not allowed to leave the club.” Thank God for that rule.

“I already got the all clear from Shooter. I’m gonna get you a sexy masquerade mask, so no one can see your face. I need you.” Tracie’s eyes plead with me.

“She isn’t going to do it, Tracie. There is no way she could pull it off.” Jordan’s voice is harsh.

I look over at him. I can’t pull it off? His statement hurts because I have been trying my hardest to get him to notice me. He is always seeing me as some damn child. I am so sick of the way he treats me. I am almost eighteen and I swear he still sees me as the fourteen-year-old girl he found in that warehouse. His attitude only makes me want to prove him wrong. “I’m in.” I say the entire time my eyes are locked with his.

“Hell yes!” Tracie grabs my hand and starts to pull me out of the club to her car. I immediately regret my decision as my stomach drops.

“Lucy!” Jordan is yelling for me but I pay him no attention. Screw him.

All I have wanted for three years was for him to see me as more than some little girl. I started doing my hair, my makeup, dressing a little sexier. Nothing works. I have even been trying to flirt with him lately, mind you I’ve been crashing and burning. It’s embarrassing and I’m over it.

I slam the door of Tracie’s truck and as she pulls away, I see Jordan running out of the clubhouse after us. “What the hell is his problem?” I cross my arms over my chest.

“He knows that you’ll rock it up there, and that you’ll be making every guy’s eyes bug out of their damn heads.” She gives me a smirk and shakes her head. “You have grown into quite a little firecracker, Luce, and I can’t wait to light the match.”

“What the hell does that mean? And why would he care? He treats me like his little sister.” I look down at the black crop top and skinny jeans I’m wearing. I feel like a fool dressing like this. It isn’t me. It’s for him.

“Are you that blind, girl? That man is so sexually frustrated over your ass he is about to burst. The brothers give him shit for it all the time.” She laughs.

“Then what the hell is his problem?” I run my hand through my hair.

“His problem is you’re still underage.”

I look over at her. “Seriously? I’ll be eighteen in a week what the hell is the difference?”

“Listen, chick, there is a huge difference. Chill your hormones for another week and then that boy will be pounding your door down.” She smiles as she looks over at me.

I don’t know if she is right. Everyone at the club sees me as their little sister no matter what I do. As much as helping Tracie out scares me, it excites me. I won’t be seen as a little girl anymore, I’ll be seen as a woman. I’ll be sexy and desirable, everything I have wanted to feel from Jordan. Seeing the girls around the club and all of the attention they get from the guys makes me jealous. I know it’s stupid, and I don’t want to be a club whore. I also want to be more than Virgin Mary.

As we pull up to Ambrosia, my nerves start to escalate. Can I really do this? I have never even danced before, much less stripped. Tracie unlocks the door and I follow her inside the club which is decorated mainly in black with shades of red strewn throughout it. There is one circular stage in the center. A silver pole runs down its middle and looks intimidating as hell.

“What time do you guys open?” I look to Tracie but she is well in front of me walking toward the back.

“We open at seven. You’ll start doing sets around eight. I’m trying to get a couple more girls so it isn’t just you.” She walks through a door, placing her purse and keys on a desk.

“Why are we here so early then?”

She looks at me like I’m crazy. “You can’t just jump up there when its show time. We need to practice. You have to get comfortable with the pole. People will walk the fuck out if you look like some amateur.” Awesome. Well if I wasn’t nervous before I sure as hell am now. “Here.” She throws something at me. “Put those shorts on. The shirt you have on is fine right now but you can’t do shit in jeans. Meet me out on the floor.”

She walks out of the room and I change as quickly as I can.

***

Please don’t let me fall on my face.

I shake my hands trying to rid my body of the nerves. I spent three hours with Tracie trying to learn how to dance and move when I’m up there. Now that the time has come, I feel like I am going to throw the hell up.

When Tracie was training me earlier, I swore to her that I was a lost cause. My thighs couldn’t grip the pole right, I kept falling and slamming my ass on the stage. If I fall in front of everyone out there I’ll die.

“You okay?” Tracie walks through the door to check on me.

“Yeah, I guess.” My voice is more unsure than I am.

“Here, we need to put this on.” In her hand is an intricate mask that will cover only my eyes. It has small rhinestones framing it. She said Shooter’s biggest issue wasn’t my age, but that someone would recognize me. Hence, the mask.

I assess myself in the mirror not even recognizing the woman staring back at me. The clothes I’m wearing are so out of my comfort zone. My body is covered by a see through black dress that stops a couple inches below my butt. Underneath I have on a sequined black bra and thong.

Luckily, Tracie said that she was able to find two other girls. I will end up needing to get up on stage three times. The other two will go topless but she said that was my choice. I haven’t planned for anything, I guess it depends how things are going.

I hear someone start to speak on the microphone, knowing that will be my cue.

“
Now, popping her Ambrosia cherry. Here for your absolute pleasure, Mary!
”

I look over at Tracie and she is smiling.

Bitch.

I walk out and the cheers sound. I don’t look out to them, I just focus on a spot on the back wall. Concentrating more on my steps and not busting my face in these hooker heels. The problem is that my spot on the wall is replaced by Jordan.
He’s here?
Shit. His eyes are focused on me. His arms are crossed over his chest and he looks pissed as hell. My entire body reacts to his stare. When I start to move I keep his focus.

My body sways and dips to the music. I complete a few spins on the pole like Tracie showed me. Halfway through the dance I turn my back to the audience, my arms cross over my stomach gripping the hem of the dress I pull it up and off me in one swift motion.

When I turn, I feel Jordan’s eyes before I see them. They are burning holes in my skin. Heating my whole body without even touching me. I slide my back down the pole spreading my legs once I hit the bottom, like Tracie showed me. The men cheer but the man in the back is still stoic.

Arms crossed.

Face hard.

Eyes focused.

I can’t see his expression from here but I take his presence and his stance as a challenge.

Maybe Tracie was right. I complete my set then head back to the dressing room. My next outfit is about the same except it’s red.

“Girl, you fucking rocked that shit.”

I smile at her. “Thanks, I was so damn nervous.”

“Well, it didn’t show. One down, two more to go.”

She walks out of the dressing room and I relax until I’m called again. The second time is pretty much the same. This time there are a few more guys than before. Jordan still watches me from the back. I don’t pay attention to anyone but him, this is all for him.

My last outfit is bright white. When I put it on and look in the mirror, I look like an angel.

“Look at you. Ready for the last one?” Tracie is standing in the doorway.

“Yeah, I’m just not sure about this one.” I run my hands over my outfit.

“Please you look fucking virginal as can be, Mary, they’ll eat this shit up.”

Now it makes sense, white, angel, Mary.

I take the stage one last time and they scream louder than any time before. The white color and the rhinestones shine under the lights and when I look at Jordan, I wink. The beat starts to play and I give it my all. Each movement harder, each dip deeper. This is my last chance to have him see me as sexy.

My heart beats faster as the feeling of him watching me excites me. My body feels heated under his gaze and he doesn’t look away from me.

By the end of the dance I’m panting but more from the connection I’ve been sharing with Jordan. From the hormones racing through me. The way I ache when I look at him. I head back into the dressing room relieved that I’m done for the night because I’m exhausted. The door opens, “Hey Trace! All done for—”“ I turn and it isn’t Tracie looking at me.

It’s Jordan.

His eyes are fixed on me and I am frozen in place. He takes a few silent steps toward me. I face him causing my body to become flush with the wall behind me. With another two steps he is face to face with me. His breathing is labored and I can feel his chest hitting mine with each inhale.

“Tell me to leave.” Jordan’s voice is strained and hard as he stares into my eyes. His lips are only an inch away from mine and I can’t help but want to move forward. I want to kiss him.

I don’t respond. I don’t want him to leave.

His hands quickly grab mine pinning them next to my head. “Tell. Me. To. Leave.” Each word growled as if he were an animal.

I shake my head very slightly, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. With him so close to me I can’t even think straight. All kinds of alarm bells are ringing in my head, and every inch of me is screaming for him to touch me.

His mouth crashes against mine, the force taking my breath away. His tongue enters my mouth and takes over. He is consuming me, owning every part of me with one kiss. His hands pin mine, immobilizing me and leaving me at his mercy. This is the moment I have dreamed of for years and it’s finally happening.

His mouth moves down my jawline, slowly nipping down my neck. I let out a moan. My hands flex with the need to touch him, to run my hands over his body, to feel him.

In an instant my arms flop to my sides and there is an emptiness where he was. Jordan is standing in the middle of the dressing room. “Fuck!” He walks toward the door.

“Jordan!” My voice is full of need, and want. He turns back toward me. “Stay.” It’s only one word, but it holds so much weight. It’s a plea.

He looks at me for what feels like forever before shaking his head and leaving the room. I’m still leaning against the wall, my breathing quick and deep. I sag against it as the door closes.

What the hell was that?

Why would he kiss me and then just leave?

Maybe I wasn’t good at it. Maybe I couldn’t compare to all of the other girls he had had. Maybe I wasn’t enough. That was always my greatest fear when I thought about being with Jordan. My lack of experience compared to the fact that he knew what he was doing.

I look at myself in the mirror and I’m ashamed of the person looking back at me. I can almost hear my mother calling me a whore. I did this for Jordan. I wanted him to see me as a woman, to want me. Well mission accomplished, too bad I couldn’t keep his attention.

I’m pathetic.

I wipe away a lonely tear trailing down my cheek before I reach for my clothes. Even these aren’t me, the tight low cut black shirt and hip hugging black jeans are for him. I just wanted him to notice me, now I wish he never had. I wish I had never walked into that warehouse.

I walk out of the room and look for Tracie. She is standing at the bar talking to Twisted. “Well, hey there, sexy!” She smiles at me and I fake one for her in return, hoping I can fool her long enough to get out of here.

Twisted turns to face me. “Hey, Luce, you ready to go home? Jordan asked me to give you a ride back.” I wish I could say I was surprised but after he ran out of the room like that, I’m not.

“Yeah, let’s go.” I wave goodbye to Tracie, and follow Twisted out to his bike. 

“Here.” He hands me a wad of money. “This was yours from tonight. Tracie asked me to give it to you.” He hands me a helmet, “You good?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. I awkwardly climb onto the bike. The fact that this is my first time riding on one is completely lost on me. I can’t think of anything but him. We ride back to the clubhouse in silence. The entire time all I can think of is hiding in my room and hoping that somehow this day magically disappears.

When we walk in, I see Jordan walking toward the door with a bag in his hand. “I’m going on the road for the rest of the week. Pres said for you to keep watch over Lucy.” Twisted nods his head.

He’s leaving?

Was it that bad that he has to get out of town? I look at him, but he won’t meet my eyes.

Coward.

I walk past him, my shoulder hitting his. Once I’m in the hallway and out of their sight, I break out into a run. I will not shed a tear until I’m behind closed doors. I shut the door and collapse face first on the bed, my pillow masking the sobs breaking out of my mouth. For over three years, I have wanted him to kiss me, give me attention, affection.

I pictured the day I turned eighteen to be a day that he claimed me like I have seen some of the other guys do to their girls. I’ve dreamed of being his, now those dreams have been completely slashed. Will I still be allowed to stay here after I turn eighteen? Will I even want to? If Jordan moves on I don’t know that I could watch him with random girls, or God forbid claiming someone else.

I eventually fall asleep, visions of what I thought my life could be slowly disappearing.

***

“Tomorrow is the day, Mary.” Tracie sits next to me and I nod. Tomorrow I turn eighteen. “You okay? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m fine.” I look up at her and smile.

“You’re a shit liar. You’ve been all fucked up since the night at Ambrosia. What happened?” Her eyes study me as if she is trying to dissect me.

“Nothing happened.”

I stand up and walk into the kitchen so I can get dinner ready for everyone. I haven’t heard from Jordan since he left that night. I’ve thought about texting him but I have no idea what to say. He made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with me.

“Hey, whatcha makin’?” I turn around to see Twisted leaning against the wall.

“Chicken Parm.” I go back to cutting the chicken.

“Jordan’s coming home tonight, ya know.” I don’t even look back at him. Why would I care? Him coming home doesn’t affect me. As of tomorrow, he is free of his obligation to me. He’ll patch in and he doesn’t have to pretend to be here for me anymore. I hear footsteps and look behind me to see that Twisted is no longer standing there.

After dinner, I go to my room. That’s been my routine these past few days. Cook, clean, eat, and sleep. Nothing more.

He may be coming home, but he isn’t coming for me.