Page 3 of Off Limits
‘Ride me, baby,’ he says huskily on an exhale. Underneath me, his dick pulses, but apparently, only his hands are part of the no-touching rule.
The music fades. Seven minutes are up. I slide off his lap, get to my feet, thankful it’s over. I pick up my corset and stand facing the wall, as is policy. It’s always at this moment that I blink back tears, because it reminds me how powerless I am, and how I’d leave Surly’s tomorrow if I could.
‘For the lady,’ I hear the man say as he leaves the room. Hurley escorts the customer out, then comes back to pass me my tip. I glance down. It’s a lousy ten bucks. Rolling my eyes before I wipe them, I fix my corset back in place and hope that his friends don’t get any ideas. Private dances are expensive.
Yet I don’t see a dime of that fee.
The neighborhood’s deathly quiet when I roll up in my beat-up Ford C-Max, pulling up into the driveway. Temptation Heights is not exactly known for its deluxe vehicles. It’s three a.m. and the outside porch light still flickers. I ease the screen door open, so it doesn’t clatter or squeak – which it always does – and slide my key inside the lock. I can hear the TV on the inside.
In the living area, to the left, Dad’s fast asleep, still on the couch, fully dressed, in the same clothes he was wearing when I left him this morning. I sigh and reach for the remote, switch off the commercials on TV and cover him with a blanket. I creep toward the kitchen. When I open the refrigerator, I expect to see it half-full of groceries, only all that’s left is some cheese slices and an open can of soda. My second sigh is more pronounced. I straighten, check the freezer and retrieve the tub of Ben & Jerry’s that I stashed right at the back.
I sit outside on the porch in a butterfly stretch, scooping ice cream straight from the tub. In her lecture, Kathleen warned us rookies to avoid dairy. I keep telling myself, just one more spoonful. I sit, heels pressed together. I feel the pull in my adductors as I listen to the cicadas. The neighbor’s dog sleeps tethered to the fence, whining in his dreams. I gotta be up in five hours to get to the diner. Alongside working at Surly’s, bussing tables is not exactly how I saw myself making a living.
You were supposed to order groceries today, Dad.
I remember the day, five years ago, when they came after him. They wanted their money, and for my father, Glenn Harper, to pay it back, when they knew darn well he wasn’t good for it. He’d gambled it all away, every last dime. Momma stuck out the year ’til I was seventeen, but left when she couldn’t take it no more. She encouraged me to leave too, saying that he wasn’t worth it, that he was a drunk and a deadbeat and didn’t the whole neighborhood know it.
I thought about leaving.
Then he got sick.
The men who came for him… all they saw was Dad’spretty little girl– so they said – with the long blonde hair and bright green eyes, and their minds were already racking up dollar signs. And just like that, the day I turned eighteen, I became a pawn in a no-good man’s game.
The message to Dad was clear. Either pay the money back or suffer the consequences.
That’s how I got started dancing. Five, sometimes six nights a week for the last five years. I don’t get paid, and any tips that I make belong to Kale McCoy. Local crime lord in Canyon and owner of Surly’s Tavern.
He owns me now. Until the debt is paid off.
I knew when I sent in my video audition for the CMC that there was a risk. That if I qualified, somebody might recognize me from dancing late at night.
It’s why I’m gonna work damn hard to make sure that doesn’t happen.
My two lives need to remain separate. In the daylight hours, I’m Serenity Harper, diner waitress and clean-cut Mutineers cheerleader. At night, I’m Brandy Velvet. Private dancer.
I look down at the ice cream tub and bite my lip. It’s empty.
I look behind me at the house, knowing Dad is sleeping soundly inside.
They would have killed him if I hadn’t agreed to the terms.
I blow out my cheeks. I need to get some shut eye.
Recently, there’s been this question lingering in my mind.Is it possible to do this, and not get found out?
Because right now, it feels like I’m about to play with fire.
Chapter Two
Jake
I glance down at my phone. There’s a picture of a brunette in a white bikini who’s sent me a message, offering to show me the sights of Canyon.
Another one.
I swear I lose track of all these chicks coming at me. This one has a big smile and curves in all the right places. She reminds me of a girl I used to date in college. But something tells me I need to be careful.
‘Hey, assface,’ a voice says in the direction of the pool as my seventeen-year-old sister, River, throws a volleyball toward my head. ‘Quit looking at your phone. Those girls who you think are sliding into your DMs are just bots tryna catfish you.’
