The Keys to Jericho (99 page)

Duquesne mutters, “Fuck. I’m blind and I couldn’t even look right at her.”

“Yep.” Another shot glides over the bar to me and I glance over my shoulder. “I think I’ve had enough for now.”

“Nope!”

Shell announces the next victim as Lady Zass to ‘Bootylicious.”

Dash loudly sighs. “Another overused song for strippers.”

“Zass?” Pete questions, taking a drink.

When she spins around the stripper pole, we see her zass plain as day.

Dash squeals, “Fucking look at that thing!”

Pete says, “Jesus. It needs its own zip code.”

She tears off her see-through, red robe to reveal pasties and a black g-string. Pete and Dash yell, as Rio and I shake our heads, as she shakes her ass.

Dash observes, “She kind of looks like Rihanna in the face.”

Pete laughs. “With Beyoncé tied around her waist.”

When she slithers to the bar, jiggling her ass like Jell-O, she heads right for me and I refrain from rolling my eyes just yet. Her mask is feathery and when she dances to the spot between my legs, the feathers fly into my face. Even as I blow and swat them away, she keeps swiveling around, as if she’s lost in her own world. She sways her hips against my legs, like she’s a bell. I can’t even move to escape her.

Suddenly, she grabs my hands, putting them over her tits, holding my hands on them. My mouth falls open, shocked, but I quickly recover, noticing how fake her tits feel. She giggles. “You’re frisky.”

“Oh, yeah? Well,
you’re
out of here.”

“What? Why?”

Dropping my hands, I say, “Because you can’t handle me, hot stuff. I promise you.”

Hearing the others laugh, she steps back, glaring at us. “You’re missing out. I promise
you
. Nobody snubs these tits!”

Shrugging with a laugh, I inform her, “I just did.”

“If you don’t want to touch them, you must be gay.”

“If you think I do,
you
must be crazy.” I give her a sardonic smile before yelling, “Next! And give me some hand sanitizer!”

She tosses her fake hair over her shoulder. “I can easily get a job at Shaker’s.”

From behind the counter, Dave slides a bottle of germ-X my way and says, “You should. They also pay twice as less and you have to split all your tips. Good luck.”

As I rub my hands together, she growls and stomps to the stage, on her way to scrape together her robe and her dignity, if she had any in the first place.

Shell announces, “Please welcome Star!”

Some pop song comes on and a sickly-looking girl wearing a white wig, which looks gray beneath the light, and a flimsy, white dress, jerkily dances onto the stage, grabbing onto the stripper pole and whirling around it. From here, she looks like a skeleton dancing around a dead tree.

Rio finishes his shot and asks, “What in the fuck is her deal?”

Dash just as unsteadily sends me another shot. I doubt he’ll remember the rest of the night, if there’s much more to it, but I have to admit, I never knew swinging an ax could be so much fun.

When she makes her seemingly now, obligatory trip to the bar, I close my legs more so I’m not a literal open invitation. However, that doesn’t stop her from bumping against my legs, nearly cutting me with her sharp hipbones. Closing her eyes, she raises her arms and sways her body, as if she’s listening to different music in her head. I questioningly glance at Rio and Dash, who both roll their eyes. Shit. Calder’s even 10 sheets to the wind and he gets how fucked up this one is.

Adding some odd drumming hand movements, she swings her hands around, losing her balance, and nearly stumbling in her tall, white boots. On impulse, Rio and I jump off our stools, each grabbing an arm to steady her. Rio asks, “You okay?”

Not answering, she just starts swaying again, trying not to miss a beat. We both let go of her and I say, “Hey. You can stop now.”

Instead, she bends and whips her head around like a plane’s propellers taking off, going faster and faster.

Dash squeals, “Whoa!”

She keeps going until the song ends, even when her white wig flies off, landing at Duquesne’s feet. Standing, her blonde hair is a clusterfuck as she dizzily sways from spinning. Rio hands her the wig and she takes a bow, almost falling over again.

Looking over at Dash as Rio and I sit down, I say to her, “We’ll call you.”

Saying nothing, she nods and teeters out the side door.

Rio mutters, “Jesus Christ. I’ve seen it all.”

Pete asks, “What the fuck was that shit? I felt like I needed to prepare for takeoff.”

I laugh. “Your future wife. Don’t let her get away, Pete.”

“Shit. She looked like a fucking ghost.”

Dad says, “I think she was dancing to that song from
Beetlejuice
in her head.”

“No doubt, Dad. This is nuts. Someone needs to show them how it’s done.”

Pete says, “Fuck, yes.”

Dash jumps down from his stool and goes to the stage, yanking off his shirt as he goes.

Behind the bar, Dave says, “Jesus. Not again.”

A fast remake of “Smooth Criminal” blasts the room and Dash single-handedly clutches the pole and swings around it, dipping low and moving better than the other contestants did. Fucker.

Putting both hands on the pole, he leans back and lifts his feet onto it, climbing like a monkey. Wrapping his legs around the pole, Dash leans back, dangling upside down from it, which has to take strong stomach muscles to achieve.

My
stomach should win an award for holding down my food.

Dave sighs. “I fucking hate when he does that shit.” He shouts to Dash, “Get your fucking ass off there before I knock you into next week! This isn’t your gym class!”

Ignoring his dad and still holding on, Dash slides down and throws his feet out, standing on the pole sideways, while swinging around it.

Pete yells, “Go, you sexy beast!”

Rio reaches to the bar behind us. “I don’t need to see Douche that flexible. I need another drink.”

I laugh, and yell, “Rio wants to see your monster dick!”

Dad says, “For crying out loud, Jared Adam.” He yells, “No, Dashiell!”

Rio frowns at me before shouting, “Keep that shit to yourself!”

Dave says, “If he does, I’ll rip that pole from the ceiling and beat his ass with it.”

Dash finally jumps down and takes a bow, and we promptly boo. Picking up his shirt, he jogs back to the bar, heading straight for me. “Jericho, you’ll take me home tonight, won’t you? Let me kiss those lips before you’re officially hitched?” He puckers his lips to me and I shove his head away.

Laughing, I say, “Fuck off, Calder. Your hair is a mess. Next!”

As he brushes it with his fingers, Pete asks, “Where in the hell did you learn how to do that?”

Dash rolls his eyes and throws his hands into the air, waving to the room. “Really, Pete?”

Dave says, “You’re going to polish that pole, dumbass.”

Dash wrinkles his face. “I thought I just did?”

I say, “Don’t get it confused with
your
pole, which you sparkle nightly.”

Putting on his shirt, he again brushes at his hair and sneers, “Fuck you. Your sister likes it.”

My smile drops and I grip him by the shirt. “And you’ll be carrying a harp while flying through the goddamned clouds.”

Dad says, “Jared.”

“Aww, Jericho. No pitchfork for me?”

Rio says, “Take a seat, Douche. You’re trashed.”

Overhead, Shell says, “Hang on to your seats, gentleman. Here is Roxanne!”

Rio says, “Back to it, executioner.”

The lights go up and we see the back of a girl with her leg hitched up on a chair. She starts shaking her ass when The Police’s “Roxanne” starts. Even her two black and pink ponytails bounce in rhythm.

When she kicks the chair out, she spins around, still shaking her hips with the beat. Her short, red dress and black fishnet stockings seem to fit the song, but her black combat boots are different. Her mask is also black, but you can see her bright, blue eyes from where we’re sitting.

“Take it off!” Dash shouts.

She grabs onto the stripper pole, and swings around it with better agility than the previous attempts by the others, even matching Dash’s ability. The skirt of her dress flares out, revealing red, sparkly underwear. Pete says, “She’s promising.”

I cross my arms and scoff, “Too early to tell.”

With her back to us again, she looks over her shoulder, and licks her lips, before letting go of the pole and exiting the stage to do the up-close portion of her audition.

She marches straight for Dash, tilting his chin up and roughing up his hair. Twirling, she goes to Rio and kisses his cheek. As they gape at her, she sidesteps to me, but touches Pete’s arm, and then covering her mouth as she giggles.

Finally, her attention goes to me and I narrow my gaze. She spins my Colts hat around, before yanking on my hand so that I’ll get off the stool. Sighing to Rio, I stand as she closely dances around me, running her hands over my back, my abs, and then up my chest. At least this one isn’t wearing a wedding ring.

When she shimmies against me, I inhale as I roll my eyes at the other guys, who are watching with interest. She tugs on the bill of my cap and brings her face close to mine, teasing me, but then turns her head before our lips touch.

Suddenly, I put my hands on her hips yanking her closer. Tilting my head, I swiftly lean down and kiss up her neck, stopping at her jaw, where I veer close to her mouth, but don’t kiss her lips.

Rio clears his throat. “Jare.”

I look to our audience. “What? Hard-on worthy. Right? This one gets the job.”

Dash slurs, “Um, I know what I’m seeing isn’t right. Are you falling for a
stripper
?”

Pete says, “Jared. Come on.”

Tony gapes and my Dad says, “Jared, you’ve had a lot to drink.”

I petulantly refute, “Uh-uh.”

Pete shouts, “You’re marrying my sister tomorrow!”

I glance over at him and shrug. “Maybe not. This one’s cute. I like striped hair.” Turning back to her, I say, “Maybe we’ll elope.”

Her blue eyes widen behind her mask and she stumbles backward, but I hold onto her and whisper, “I love the way you smell. All over. It’s my favorite.”

She shoves my chest, escaping my grasp and rips off her mask, yelling, “Are you fucking serious?”

Dash yelps, “Merrick?”

I smirk at him and then her, but she screeches, “Why are you so smug? You were hitting on a stripper!”

I nod. “Yeah. You.”

She throws her mask at my chest. “You didn’t know it was me!”

“I did, Kit Kat. From the moment you turned around on stage.”

“Just like when you saw me at my mom’s last summer, right?” My grin fades at the low blow.

“No! I hadn’t seen you in years and you looked—”

“You were supposed to not recognize me again, pushing me off you! Instead, you practically propose?” Her fake blue eyes well with tears and she backs away.

I take a step toward her. “Kat, I
knew
it was you! I swear it!”

“You’re drunk, Jared!”

From the corner of my eye, I see Rio stand, and my dad walking over as I yell, “I’ve had three shots! That’s all!”

“Oh, so you can drive?”

“No, but…”

“Exactly!”

Spinning on her heel, she heads for the stage and I go after her, skipping the stairs and hopping onto the stage. “Kat, wait!” I snag her arm, whirling her around.

She jerks her hand from my grip and moves away from me. “How do I know you wouldn’t have cheated on me?” Shit.

“Your brothers are in the same room! My dad! I also wouldn’t have kissed anyone because I’m in love with
you
!”

Dash yells, “That
is
Merrick, right?”

Kat crosses her arms and sneers, “You’d just fuck them like you used to?”

“Jesus! What’s wrong with you?”

“Me?”

Dad puts his hand on my chest and says to both of us, “Hey. You’re both strung out. Nerves are on overload. You probably should take a breather and then talk when you’ve calmed down.”

Shaking my head, I yell, “I told you I’ll never cheat on you! You think I’m lying? I’m not that asshole you were married to or even my—”

Black makeup drips from her eyes and she mumbles, “You’ll just be the next jerk I’m married to.” She turns to leave and I grab her arm, snagging her, as my dad moves with me.

He warns, “Jared, don’t.”

Pulling her back to me, I demand, “Where’re you going?”

“Home.”

“That’s it? You came here to get an expectant reaction from me—testing me. When I shock you by giving you a different answer, you stomp off? Didn’t I just prove how much I know you? How far I’ve come?”