Provoke (17 page)

I always knew this alley was dangerous.

My body is slammed against a hard wooden fence, and I set eyes on my bullies.
Four of them.
They’re all bigger than me, all of them on the football team. They’re from a few grades up, and they’ve just turned sixteen. The leader of the group, Marcel, steps forward first. He scrunches his nose in disgust, as if I’ve just dragged myself out of a gutter, as if
I’m
offending
him
. He leans in close, and I can smell cigarettes on his breath.

Smoking is not cool.

“You’ve been trying to avoid me, Will. Did you really think you could hide at home with Mommy, and never have to come out again?”

I stare at him, wondering why he chose me to pick on. I didn’t even know his name until he flagged me down and shoved my head down a toilet six months ago. I was just a kid, keeping my head down, studying and learning like I should. Now here I am, pressed against a fence, wondering why they decided I was good enough to take extra special effort to attack. I don’t bother answering him; it’ll only make him worse. My answers won’t make a difference. If I answer, I’m
wrong
. If I don’t answer, I’m
wrong
.

“Are you fucking mute, you little cunt?”

My body jerks.
I hate that word
,
it’s so…vulgar
. I let my eyes move to the four other guys standing like protective pack animals around Marcel. I don’t know their names; they’re not significant enough. The tall boy with orange hair looks nervous, like he knows what’s about to happen could put him in a world of trouble - but he’s still here, still making the choice to stay. The other two guys are stony faced, and fully aware of their part in this attack.

I still don’t answer him. If I just let them beat me, it’ll go away quicker.

“You’re a freak,
Will,
do you know that?” Marcel hisses, leaning in closer.

Of course I
know
that. I wouldn’t be pinned against a fence if I didn’t
know
that.

Bullies are so dumb.

Marcel raises his fist, and brings it down over my face, cracking my nose so hard blood spurts onto his shirt. I don’t cry out, because that’s what he wants, but the pain radiating through my head is nearly enough to make me beg.
Nearly
. Marcel takes hold of my shirt, and his grey eyes scan my face. He’s panting, as though I’ve shoved him into an alley and challenged him. Like this is
my
fault. The world is twisted like that, and it’s a lesson I’ve learned the hard way.

“You know,” he growls, locking eyes with me. “I heard my girl saying how handsome you were the other day. Do you know how much it sucks to have my girl saying that a freak is handsome?
Especially a freak that’s only what?
Thirteen years old? Your dick would be no bigger than a tube of damned lipstick, yet she thinks you’re handsome!”

I wouldn’t know how much it sucks to have a girl say that, because I
don’t
have a girl.

Again, bullies are dumb.

“Don’t answer me, you little twerp. It doesn’t matter. I will make sure by the time you leave this alley; you’re not handsome anymore. I won’t have my competition being some little weasel that can’t even speak.”

I taste blood filling my mouth, and my nose is pounding so heavily I’m almost sure I can hear my own heart in my head. I don’t take my eyes from Marcel. They say look danger right in the eye; it gives you power and strength. I don’t feel powerful right now, in fact, I don’t really feel anything. Someone like me doesn’t fight, I’m the underdog, and underdogs are weak. Everyone knows it.

Marcel reaches into his back pocket, and pulls out a little vile of something, I don’t know what. The heart that feels like it’s in my head begins thumping even harder. I try not to show fear, I try to stand tall and take what he dishes out with strength, but that’s not so easy when your attacker is as crazy as mine.

“She said it was your eyes,” he begins, lazily tracing circles on his palm with the vile. “She said they’re the most stunning eyes she’s ever seen. Like the ocean.”

I didn’t know my eyes were like the ocean.

He takes hold of my shirt, yanking me close. “No one is more appealing to my girl, than
me
.”

They say bad things happen in slow motion, they’re right. I feel Marcel throw me down onto the floor. I feel every movement as my body slammed into the dirt. I feel his body weight coming over me, his knees pinning me down as I squirm. I feel his friend take my arms, pulling them above my head, while another puts a hand over my mouth. With my nose pouring with blood, that makes it difficult to
breathe
.

I someone digging his fingers into the sides of my head, holding it still as Marcel unscrews the little vile of liquid in his hand. He reaches down, shoving his fingers into my eye, causing it to water and burn. I scream and twist, trying to get away. He punches me again, causing me to begin spinning out – blood fills my mouth. Then he holds my eye open and he tips the liquid into it. My screams intensify as what feels like liquid fire sinks into my eye.

It feels like it’s on fire.

Oh god it hurts. It hurts so badly.

The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Words cannot begin to explain the horror I feel as darkness begins to invade my body. I feel the liquid sliding down the side of my face to my ear, burning everything as it goes. I try to free my hands, I need to wipe it off, God it hurts,
someone
please get it off. I can’t get my hands out,
though,
they’re holding me down. So I do the only thing I can in my last moment of sheer desperation, I turn my head and I bite the hand closest to me, drawing blood.

I don’t know what they’re saying, or even acknowledge the moment when they run away. All I know was that I am bleeding heavily in an alley and my eye is being burned with a lethal chemical. Red fills my vision as the blood begins to cover every part of my face. I know I’m still screaming, even though I can’t hear it. All I can hear is an excessive ringing in my ears. I can’t even move my hands to cover my eye, in an attempt to protect the burning orb. I can do nothing but lay and scream, witnessing a pain that I’ll never witness again in my life, and wondering what I did to deserve it.

No one deserves to die.

But I do die that day.

And in my place, a monster is born.

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Climax, by
Sexxa
Kohl.
Available now on all major online retailors.

Synopsis:

If asked what I thought I would be doing at twenty-two, it certainly wouldn’t be taking my clothes off for complete strangers. The world looks at me as both a whore and a worthless piece of trash, even though I only work here to pay for my mother’s medical bills. No one would believe that I am still a virgin, waiting to find love. I can easily say that I don’t think love is ever going to be finding me here at Club Climax.

As I stare out over the crowd, I give them what they want. For the next three and a half minutes of this song, I dance, undress, shake my ass, and slide up and down the metal pole in front of me. I control everything I do while I am up here on this stage. That is how it works at this place; I make the rules. That is, of course, except the room in the far back known as Ultimate Climax. All power is surrendered and lost there. I have promised myself that I will never go back there, no matter how desperate I get. The price is too high for me; I refuse to sell myself to the highest bidder. I cannot afford to lose the only thing I have left. My control.

There comes a time when we have to do the things that we said we would never do. For me, that day has finally arrived.

As I grab the handle of the door, I pause to take a deep breath. Once I walk through that door, my whole life will forever change. I will give up everything, and I pray that when I leave, I will have something left of myself.

Excerpt:

Needing to kick it up a notch, I turn around, lean back against the pole, and shimmy down to the floor. Once I am on my knees, I crawl down the center of the stage where no one can reach or touch me. With each slow movement, my tits bounce up and down but remain tightly shoved and restrained in my corset. Near the edge of the stage, I shake my ass and my chest before sitting upright and lifting my long hair up above my head. Green bills fly around me as I spread my legs open and lean back onto the cold floor.

I fucking swear that if I hear, “Yeah, Baby,” one more time, I am going to kill someone!

I stand and strut over to the pole. This part is what I hate and dread the most, the part where I give them everything I have. With my back to the crowd, I turn and arch my back against the pole while I unfasten the clasp in the front. With one forceful tug, I am free and thoroughly exposed. I drop the black corset on the floor and cover my breasts with my arm. The crowd goes wild as I prepare for my finale. Bass pumps in the speakers as loudly as my heart does in my chest.

You can do this, Blaire. You have to.

I wait for the perfect moment in the song, and then I spin around and drop my hand, baring everything to them. Green bills fly everywhere when I jump up to grab hold of the pole. I grind my crotch against the metal seductively as I climb high above the audience. I hold on tightly while I extend my legs out in a spread eagle position. Dirty, raunchy comments reach my ears even from all the way up here. Leaning backwards, I maneuver myself upside down and perform the crowd’s favorite death drop. Every time I do this, it scares the shit out of me. I have learned the move by watching a lot of videos on pole dancing and visiting other clubs in my spare time. No one else here at Club Climax does it.

I flip my body over and touch my heels to the stage to stand. With perfect timing, the music ends just as I place my hands on my hips. The crowd is standing and continues to throw money at me while the announcer’s voice echoes throughout the club’s PA system.

“LET’S HEAR IT FOR OUR BABY GIRL … R-A-V-E-N!”

I reach down and scoop up my money while the bouncers guard the stage around me. Normally, I would never dare a glimpse out at anyone in the room, but tonight, for some unknown reason, I am drawn to do so.

I can’t explain it. It is a feeling of need and desire mixed with an electrical wave of energy. Like a magnet, his glare immediately pulls me to him. I hold the money against my chest and can’t move. My chest hurts as if the breath has just been sucked out of me. Honey is grinding her ass into his lap while he tightly grips her hips, but his eyes are firmly glued to mine. Regardless of his devastatingly handsome face, the fact he is here in this club tells me everything I need to know. Men like him are nothing but trouble; they use girls like Honey and me as if we are disposable garbage.

His heated eyes seductively travel down my body to my legs and then back up to my eyes. Fucking hell, how does he do that to me with just those dark eyes? Feeling the heat rise to my face, I break our intense stare and look down at the steps to exit the stage. Daring one last look into his dark blazing eyes, I discover something I don’t want to know about myself. I like the lustful way he looks at me. That’s too dangerous; it can bring nothing but more trouble and heartbreak into
m
y already troubled and broken life.

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Sexxa
Kohl

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