Chapter 9: Tell me your name
I didn’t even know his name for God’s sake. Ludwi? That was a load of crap. He didn’t want to tell me who he really was, and while that should have scared me, I had to admit it kind of excited me.
I’d been sitting there by myself, wishing I was just another college student whose only worries were her next assignment or getting to class on time, and he’d come out of nowhere like a force of nature.
I must have looked like a complete mess, having been crying for an hour before hand, knowing what I had to do tonight, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He was gorgeous and had come at me despite my protests like I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen and nothing I could say was going to stop him.
And I’d given in. It was like I had no choice.
My body had taken over and I’d kissed him, and it wasn’t because I was vulnerable at the time either; it was because I’d wanted him.
And that’s what scared me. That’s why I’d run away.
I would have given myself to him right then and there when I didn’t even have my life together. I would have let him save me…
The speed of it all terrified me. My feelings terrified me.
No, Hope, I told myself. No one’s coming to save you. This is your life now.
So I stood there, huddled in the corner of the locker room that smelled of bodies, sweat, and tacky perfume, while girls funneled in and out of the club, until finally Juan returned for me, sweating like he’d just been…up to something.
He snapped his fingers and motioned to me. “You. Let’s go.”
I followed behind him like an obedient puppy down the hall that led to the main room of the club. The pounding bass grew louder as we walked. I knew it was just music, but to me it was the sound of a terrible monster ready to swallow me whole.
“So, good news,” he told me. “You won’t be going up on the main stage tonight.”
“No?” I asked. Somehow I doubted that Juan’s definition of “good
news” was the same as mine.
“No. I’ve got a very special VIP for you to entertain,” he replied, rubbing his hands together with excitement.
“VIP?”
“Brock Williams,” he replied. “Ever heard of him?”
My legs froze and I stopped dead in the middle of the hall. Juan turned and grinned at me.
“I guess you have.”
Of course I had. Anyone living in the Greater Boston area had heard of Brock Williams, the notorious crime boss who was on the verge of being the kingpin of the entire city.
“Brock…?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
“Damn right,” Juan replied. “His boys told me he wanted a ‘fresh one,’ and that means you. So get your ass moving, put a smile on that face, and dance your ass off for him.”
He kept moving and I followed after him, forcing my legs to move. “Juan!” I hissed as we approached the door to the main room. “I don’t
know how to dance!”
“Ah, bullshit,” he scoffed. “How many years did you do ballet for?” “That is not the same thing, Juan! Ballet is an art form—”
“Watch your tone!” he snapped.
“I don’t know how to…twerk or whatever the hell girls do—”
“Look, bitch,” he snarled, spinning around with his finger in my face. “You get in there, put an innocent look on his face, say ‘yes, sir’ and ‘no, sir,’ move your hips, play with your tits, and grind that ass in his lap and make him happy. Understand?”
“I—”
“You fuck this up for me, and we’re gonna have some serious problems!
Understand?”
As if we already didn’t…
I did my best to swallow my fear and nodded. “Good. Now come with me.”
Juan opened the door and we stepped into the club.
Colored lights flashed everywhere. Rap music blared as a girl twisted around the pole as a horde of men cheered and threw bills at her. She was clearly a veteran.
More men stood at the bar watching from behind their glasses as two
other girls danced on smaller stages and others in skimpy outfits worked the crowd and tried to get their attention.
Juan reached back, took me roughly by the wrist and led me past a group of tables to a set of stairs leading up to what I assumed was the VIP section. A big bouncer wearing a tacky purple suit nodded and let us through.
“Remember,” Juan hissed as we took the steps and reached another door with mirrored glass. “Do not fuck this up.”
I nodded and Juan opened the door. And then everything turned upside down.
A group of men, clearly gangsters, stood around the VIP room with bottles of champagne in their hands, and at the center of them, sitting like a king on a crimson throne…
…was the man who’d kissed me last night. Juan reached back, took me roughly by the wrist and led me past a group of tables to a set of stairs leading up to what I assumed was the VIP section. A big bouncer wearing a tacky purple suit nodded and let us through.
“Remember,” Juan hissed as we took the steps and reached another door with mirrored glass. “Do not fuck this up.”
I nodded and Juan opened the door. And then everything turned upside down.
A group of men, clearly gangsters, stood around the VIP room with bottles of champagne in their hands, and at the center of them, sitting like a king on a crimson throne…
…was the man who’d kissed me last night. “Ludwi.”
Juan led me straight over to him, and with a huge smile on his face, introduced me.
“Ludwika, this is Navil. Navil, this is Ludwika Williams.”
Ho-lee shit.