Jasmine
996 Words
Jasmine
I had been in town for a week. Honestly, I dug it. This town was quaint. It felt calming despite the tougher-than-nails MC that ran it.
I was no stranger to MC life. He*l my dad, was the president of the Hawk MC back in Washington. And he was a savage. The reason I never stayed in one place for long. Word would most definitely get out and I would be a prisoner again. Under him and his disgusting VPs thumb.
Knives.
That mother fu*ker had no off switch. And was determined that I was his. And daddy dearest? He was all for selling me off to him.
But stripping gave me an outlet. Watching men crumble under my stilettos brought me life. I was in control.
So when I ended up in this small North Carolina town and found a newly purchased strip club looking for fresh meat, I stepped right up.
Raven. My stage name.
It was fitting. My dark auburn hair that changed colors under the overhead lights. And the fact that I flew the fu*k out about every six months.
Growing up in Armenia, my father always had his foot into not quite legal ventures. Before leaving for America, he had been involved in the Armenian Mafia. When heat started closing in on him, he bounced out, cultivating his MC with the knowledge he had. And they thrived.
But he didn't care about us. His family. Once he got a taste of control, he had no limits. And because of that, my poor mother suffered. Watching him cheat countless times, with women his daughter's age. It finally took a toll. Her heart couldn't handle it and I found her de*d on my 21st birthday. And my dad? Was more concerned about whom the next heir would be. And it wasn't me, a measly woman. Instead, he knocked up as many mistresses as he could until he had a proper male heir.
It wasn't his fault. My poor brother was born to be my father's molded clay. His protege. But at the age of 18, Chase had no choice but to be what our father forced him to be. A savage. His first ki*l at 15 changed him. We had always been close but after that, he no longer had any incentive to speak to me. His future was written in stone. And it broke my God d*mn heart.
So here I was. In the dressing room of the Savage Saints dressing room. Putting on my man crushing heels. Biting back the bitterness that wrapped around my heart.
Heart. S*it I was starting to think I was heartless.
I stepped out onto the stage. Angel by Massive Attack blasting through the speakers. I strutted around the pole. I wasn't a topless dancer, but that didn't prevent me from getting the tips I needed. Not tooting my own horn, but I owned the pole. I didn't need my ti*s out to make a livable wage. Nothing against those that did topless. I just didn't have it in me. Too many forced dances.
Then I felt it. Eyes boring into me. Not unsettling, just constant. Looking into the cheering crowd, my breath hitched. Deep blue eyes across the room. Watching. Studying. I couldn't make out his face, but the MC kut I definitely could.
As the song finished, I stepped off-stage. Sweaty and ready for a shower. Then it happened.
Lights out. And chaos ensued.
Screaming women, the barks of directions from security. Grabbing my robe, I stayed hidden behind the door. Then I saw it. A masked guy running down the hallway, gun in tow.
Don't ask me why, instinct I guess. I took off my stiletto and chucked it at his head. He went down. Hard.
Now what?
The burly guy manning the stage jumped on him. Twisting his arm behind his back despite his level of consciousness.
Hearing a generator starting in the distance, the emergency lights flicked on. The girls huddled in the corner, understandably scared. But me.
It was just another threat.one I'm used to. I quickly got dressed. Knowing this would be a club meeting in the making. This was an attack. And the Savage Souls would have questions.
Ace
After watching the single most sexy stripper I had ever seen grace the stage, the lights went out. I leaped out of my seat, pi*stol on hand. This was an attack.
Emergency lights blasted on. Everyone seemed OK. What the actual fu*k? Opening night? This was a message. One I was about to decipher.
I made my way down the hallway. Jinx had one of the as*holes on his stomach. Unconscious.
"Good job, man. You catch a name?" I patted his back.
"Naw man. One of the strippers knocked him the fu*k out with a shoe."
A shoe? I looked around for said shoeless women who had just scrambled a guy's brains with the same velocity as a punch.
A group of women stood in the corner, clearly terrified.
"Da*nit Wheels get over there and comfort them.make sure they get dressed and out of here. Take them to the club. We'll question then later." He nodded.
Then I saw her. One shoe, arms crossed. Angel.
She smirked. "Sorry, it was my only weapon at the time. Figured my teddy wouldn't do the job."
I laughed. Looking over my shoulder.
God da*n.
She was se*ier up close. Auburn hair down to her a*s. Beautiful B cups. Massive a*s. But the tats. She may have had as many as me. Beautiful intriguing flower displays down both legs. Back piece of birds and trees. Then some down her chest and stomach. Language I didn't know. I about came in my pants.
NOT THE TIME.
"Might have to hire you for security. You got a mean throw."
"Happy to help." she winked. " Let me know if you need my assistance."
She turned on her heal and was out of my view.
- Writer
