Niko
“Someone’s got to tell her. Charleigh deserves to know what’s in store for her,” I say.
Kir grabs the chair opposite Vadik’s desk and leans back with a stretch. I know he’s trying to act all casual and shit, but he’s got to be thinking along the same lines as me.
Jesus, the girl deserves to know she’s about to be auctioned to some fucker who wants to buy her virginity. My fists clench at the thought, so I stuff them in my trouser pockets.
It’s a business transaction, I remind myself. That’s all it is.
“Do you think she really has no idea? I mean, is she that clueless?” Vadik asks. “Eh, let Dominika tell her. She’s her problem, anyway.”
Goddamn, sometimes I want to smack him.
“I want to tell her before Dominika does. The woman will get too much pleasure out of freaking her out.”
I can see it now, Dominika laughing and telling Charleigh to just suck it up.
“Who do you think will bid on her? I mean, like really bid? Like big fucking bucks?” Kir asks. “She could go for a lot. I mean, I wouldn’t mind popping that cherry. She sucks dick like a champ. I can only imagine—”
“Stop,” I holler, surprising myself.
And pissing myself off too. Just gave myself away, dammit.
Kir doesn’t miss a beat. “Look, little bro, I like her too. She’s sweet as honey. But she’s not ours. You need to keep that in mind.”
I glare at him.
“Unless…” he continues, “you want to buy her.”
The room is quiet for a moment.
“Out of the question,” Vadik says, getting to his feet. “You don’t have the kind of money we can raise from our members. Not many people do. Now c’mon. We’ve got work to do. All of us.”
“I hear Alexei is due for a visit,” Kir says as he joins Vadik in standing. “That old fucker,” he chuckles.
Holy Christ. This is not good news.
Alexei is old school. Old, and old school. He came over from Russia before my father did, and helped him with some business dealings. He thinks the Alekseev family is still indebted to him and acts like a VIP around the club because he was friends with Papa. We don’t let him think otherwise, but the day he finally keels over and dies will be a happy one for us.
When he finds out about Charleigh, he’s going to want her for himself. He can afford to pay for her. He’s the richest billionaire in our faction.
I mean, my brothers and I have money. But this man has serious fucking money. Like he can buy anything he wants anytime, kind of money. A jet, a yacht, an island.
A beautiful young virgin coveted by many.
Shit, he might even bid her up to show the rest of the slobs, as he calls them, just how rich he is. Gain their envy. In his way of thinking, envy equals respect.
Whoever has the most toys—or anything of value, really—wins. Alexei likes to win. And he usually does.
Vadik takes a deep breath and looks between my brother and me. He knows something. Something he doesn’t want to tell us.
Or something he doesn’t want to tell me.
“I… got news for you, guys,” he says.
God fucking dammit. I knew Alexei was going to get wind of this Charleigh shit. I can’t let him have her, no matter how much he pays. I won’t.
Rumor has it that the last virgin he ‘acquired’ ended up in the hospital from his rough treatment and later found out she’s no longer able to have children.
I’ve always wondered if that were true. I mean, while the Pakhan tries to stomp out gossip and shit, a story that outrageous will always make its way through the pipeline, regardless.
“What, Vadik? What do you mean, news?” I ask.
Stay cool. Stay cool.
“Seems Dominika told him all about her. Sent him photos and everything. And he’s made a preemptive bid.”
* * *
Charleigh
I serve a bottle of wine that probably cost more than my dad’s pawn shop makes in a year, and head back to the bar for something to lean on, just for a moment. The lounge isn’t too busy yet—it’s that in-between time where the day drinkers are leaving and the happy hour crowd has yet to arrive. When those folks are done, usually sometime in the early evening, probably to rush home to wives and children, they’re replaced by men who don’t leave until all hours of the morning.
These are the die-hards. When you waitress on this shift, you can count on running the entire time. No breaks, not even to go to the bathroom. But I’m not complaining. Although we’re not supposed to accept them, these guys tip, and very generously. So, I made a little hole in my mattress where I’m hiding my cash. I need to make sure it gets to Evie somehow.
Probably not the best idea to entrust a couple thousand dollars to a kid, but I can’t keep it with me and I’m sure as hell not giving it to my father. I’ll ask her to put it aside for the two of us. Who knows whether she’ll honor my request or totally blow it off. She’s been so volatile in the last year. Actually, she’s pretty much always been volatile, but in the last year it’s gotten worse. Fights and all that. Things I never did.
Which makes it difficult to understand why she does them.
I don’t give her a hard time. There are enough other people around her who take care of that. I just try to support her and keep reminding her I know she’ll do great things. When she’s ready.
Because the lounge is slow right now, I reach behind the bar for my water bottle and take a swig. Unfortunately, I’m not even finished before Dominika descends on me.
Most of the time she stays out of the lounge, dealing with other parts of the club, but the strippers don’t go on until later, so I guess she has nothing else to do but give me a hard time.
Such a godawful woman.
“Get off the bar. Now.”
I lift my elbow off the bar and stand at attention. I’m not exactly sure that’s what she wants, but I don’t know what else to do.
She takes a step closer, and the bartender in the background shakes his head like he’s seen this before. “Don’t let me catch you like that again.”
It would be so satisfying to pour a drink over her head and watch all that makeup slither off her face.
“No problem, Dominika,” I say, faking remorse by looking down at my feet. “Won’t happen again.”
Satisfied by my atonement, she surveys the room and her face lights up when she sees the expensive bottle of wine our only occupied table is enjoying.
“Say, Dominika, I haven’t seen Stacey in a while. Where has she been?” I ask.
Now that I think of it, I haven’t seen Stacey since the day she started to tell me something about the club, something that seemed confidential, when we were interrupted by Dominika. It’s odd she hasn’t been around. I thought she took a lot of shifts because the money was so good. Maybe she’s on vacation?
Do strippers take vacations?
Dominika crosses her arms and sneers at me. Of course. Would it kill her to give me a normal, respectable, straight answer? “Don’t worry about where Stacey is. People come and go here all the time. You may see them once or twice, and then they’re gone. Don’t bother making friends with anyone. They won’t do you any good, and will turn on you the first time they need something.”
She scoffs, satisfied with having shared her ugly perspective.
I’ve never hated anyone in my life. But I do now.
“I thought Stacey worked here for a long time. As a stripper. Right?”
She was so kind to me. What could have happened to her?
Dominika rolls her eyes. “Like I told you, people cycle in and out of this place. You’ll learn that. In fact, you won’t be here long, either. But you probably already know that, don’t you? The Alekseev brothers have told you, yes?”
***************
Charleigh
Something grinds in my stomach and I want to steady myself on the bar. But I dare not touch it again. “Um, no, they haven’t told me anything specific. I’ve been wondering how long I need to stay here to fulfill my father’s obligation. Am I already that close to being finished?”
Please say yes, please say yes. I can get back to my course. I’ve missed some classroom time and one exam, but I can make it up. I know I can. And Luci will help me.
But Dominika just laughs, spewing her rank breath. “Honey, you have no fucking clue, do you?”
Clue about what?
I shake my head slowly, my mouth suddenly too dry to speak.
Do I really want to hear this? Or would it be better to remain in the dark?
“Christ, I don’t know what they’re saving the exciting news for.” She looks around like she’s going to tell me something she shouldn’t. I brace myself. “You’re to be auctioned to pay your father’s debts. You thought cocktailing a few hours in a short skirt and high heels would absolve his obligations? Are you fucking kidding me?”
I’m about to ask her to repeat herself because what she’s saying is so outrageous that I’m sure I heard her wrong. I must have. But no, when I think about it for a moment, I heard her loud and clear.
If I had a sharp object, I’d stab her in the neck.
She’s full of shit and trying to scare me. That’s how awful she is. Empty, void of what makes someone human, missing everything that separates us from other animals.
Babbling on about something, I watch her lips move. But I hear nothing. I can say nothing.
I finally get my voice back and interrupt. “Wait. Wh… what do you mean, auctioned?”
She smiles and I want to wipe the smug off her hideous face. She’s having fun. Way too much fun.
She’s got me and she knows it.
She slams her hands on her hips. “You really are that stupid,” she scolds. “An auction is where something is sold to the highest bidder. And that something being sold, in this case, is you and your virginity.”
Thisis the deal? This is their payment?
Does my father know this?
Does everyone, including Stacey from the dressing room know this? Except me?
I grab the edge of the bar for balance. I don’t care if it pisses off Dominika or not. I figure it will piss her off a lot more if I pass out in view of members.
Her words tumble around in my mind, fragmented and out of order.
Auction.
Me.
And my virginity.
For sale.
Because my father got himself into debt, so much that he could only pay it off by pimping me out.
I can’t… I won’t…
My mother would be ashamed. So ashamed.
“Oh, I meant to add, Charleigh,” Dominika continues, ignoring the fact that I’m swaying right in front of her, “there’s someone very special coming to meet you this evening, someone who I think will be very interested in you. In fact, I suspect he’ll be along… right about now.”
As if on cue, because of course, the lounge door opens. Two tall, buff men in tailored suits enter, scanning the room like they’re looking for someone. They nod at each other and turn to usher a third person through the door.
A trollish old man totters in, and each of the guys takes one of his sides, looking in part ready to take orders from him, and in part ready to prop him up should he fall over.
Who the hell is this?
He myopically heads toward Dominika, probably attracted to her beacon of fiery red hair, when his gaze shifts to me.
And as if no one else is in the room, heads straight my way.