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16. Megan

I kicked at my dressing room chair in annoyance as I finished up fixing my make-up and prepared for work. Frank was in a stinking mood. Why else would he make me work the floor. He knew I hated it and he knew I sucked at the sexy small-talk bullshit. That was Angie's speciality. But seemingly she was the cause of his bad mood, so he was making her work the private rooms. Lap dancing for the sleaze's who were willing to fork out for a private show.

Angie came crashing into my dressing room, anger contorting her face.

"That guy is an asshole," she screeched, flinging herself onto the tiny battered couch in the corner.

I nodded in agreement. "You got that right. What did you do?"

She sighed heavily. "He wanted me to do some extras for a special client last night. I said no way and he lost it completely. Told me I couldn't pick and choose and I needed to do what I was told."

"Extras?" I raised an eyebrow at her. "I told you not to get into that shit, Angie. Before you know it he'll be fucking pimping you to half of Chicago. Sleaze," I shuddered uncomfortably.

Angie was one of Frank's 'special' girls. For extra cash, they provided extra relief. Don't get me wrong, they weren't selling sex. But for a few hundred dollars, they allowed the customers to touch them when they lap danced. A strict no-no for the rest of us. And let's just say it had been known for the touching to go both ways, if you get my drift.

"I don't need a sermon, Meg," she warned me. "You know I only do it for a couple of regulars. But last night this kid just walked in off the street, throwing the bucks around and Frank pretty much offered me on a plate for the right price. He was real mad when I said no," she shook her head in disgust.

"Yeah, well, don't let him get to you. His moods only last until the next time he wants a favour," I tried to lighten the mood. "Let's get to work."

I offered her a hand and pulled her from her prone position. Show time.



Joe

"Guys, I can't concentrate," I finally stopped playing and admitted defeat.

Patrick sighed heavily. "You got that right," he agreed.

"I need to go. I need to make things up with Megan," I gave them no chance for argument. I dropped my guitar where I stood, grabbed my jacket and hurried out the door.

I headed in the direction of the club, mentally berating myself for not just telling them earlier that I needed tonight off. I could see how mad she had been with me when I had refused to cancel practice for her.

I nodded to the security guy as I entered, he knew I was Megan's boyfriend and let me pass without the usual scrutiny.

When I got inside, the place was really busy. I headed for the bar.

"Hey, Joe. Beer?" Dan greeted me. I signalled yes with a nod.

"Where's Megan?" I asked him.

"Haven't seen her in a while. Frank made her work the floor tonight. He was real mad about something." Dan handed over the beer and gestured me away when I offered him the money.

"Thanks man," I grinned. "Where's Carlos?"

"In the booth, watching the private rooms. Go on through," he pointed in back.

I grabbed my beer and headed back to see Carlos. He always knew where all the girls were. As I passed by a loud table, I saw Angie perched on a guy's lap, holding court like a pro. She raised her hand in acknowledgement and I smirked at her.

"Hey, Joe," Carlos turned slightly to greet me as I lounged in the door of the booth. Three monitors in front of him gave him a view of the private rooms. He glanced back at the two that were switched on, making sure the girls were safe.

"Hey, Carlos. Seen Megan?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "She's working the floor tonight. And you better make sure Frank doesn't see you. He's real mad tonight," he offered me a friendly warning.

"What happened?" I asked.

"Angie happened," he started with a chuckle. "Refused to do some 'extras' for a special client last night." He raised an eyebrow at me

"That girl is going to get herself in some heap of trouble some day," I felt a frown crease my forehead. She was a smart girl. I didn't know how she got herself mixed up in this extra shit.

"Yeah, well. Seems her newly-found morals didn't last too long. Fell straight back in line tonight," he indicated the blank security screen. "Same guy came back in tonight, looking for a little something. Frank came in ten minutes ago and told me to turn off the screen. I guess she's doing her thing right now," he chuckled.

"Angie?" I questioned him.

"That's what Frank said. Told me to stay in here and watch the others and he would keep an eye on the floor," he shrugged.

"But, I just saw Angie working the floor. She can't be in there...." I trailed off as I mentally tried to put two and two together.

"Megan," we both blurted at the same time. He was less than two steps behind me as I bolted towards the private rooms.



Megan

"But you know I hate the private rooms, Frank," I protested.

"He asked for you, Megan. He spotted you when he walked in the door, and offered a ridiculous amount of money. There's a bonus in it for you," Frank dangled the carrot in front of me. He knew I was hard up for cash at the moment. For the first time ever I had went to him looking for extra shifts.

"Just a dance, though, right?" I questioned him.

"Sure, Megan. Just a dance," he grinned at me.

"Okay, fine. Where is he?" I conceded, rolling my eyes at him.

"That's my girl. Room 3," he added a pat on the ass just for extra sleaze value.

"Just you make sure Carlos is on the cameras," I warned him, heading off.

When I entered, the guy was sitting with his back to me, throwing down shots from the tequila bottle on the table.

"Hi, I'm Candy," I greeted him. No response. He didn't even turn to look at me.

"Great. A pervert and a weirdo," I thought to myself.

I walked towards the table and slid down onto the seat across from him.

Recognition struck me immediately. Brett Taylor.

"Well, hello, Megan," he curled his lips into a sleazy smile.

Oh, shit.



Joe

I reached the door and flung it open. Megan was pinned to he couch which covered the whole back wall of the small room. A guy was virtually laying on top of her, her wrists imprisoned above her head in one of his hands. Her bra had been pushed up, exposing her breasts and his lips were pursed around one of her nipples. His hand was inching it's way inside the tiny bikini bottoms she wore as she frantically tried to press her knees together, denying him access. A scream escaped her lips as she realised someone had come in the room.

I propelled myself across the room, grabbing the guy by the hair, wrenching him from on top of her.

"What the fuck," he yelled in protest.

Megan quickly pulled herself into a sitting position, her hands covering her exposed breasts.

I turned the guy by the hair towards me and realised I had seen him before.

"You," I whispered in shocked recognition. Anger raced through my body as I stole a glance at Megan's tear-streaked and terrified face.

The sight of her made me drop my defences for a second, and Brett Taylor's fist made a half-hearted attempt at punching me. The punch collided with my shoulder, making me let go of hair. He turned on me quickly, stumbling in his drunkenness.

"You fucking asshole," I hissed at him. "I'm going to kill you."

And I landed a punch square on his face, making him fall to the floor. I was on him in seconds, pinning him down, landing blows to his face and stomach.

"Joe, stop it," Megan tried to pull at my arm, sobbing uncontrollably.

I felt strong arms pull me from above.

"Joe, man. Enough," Carlos pulled me up and off him, restraining me.

A crowd had gathered at the door, curious to find out what had caused the commotion. Angie came pushing through them all, running to Megan and gathering her in a hug.

"What the hell happened here?" she threw accusingly at me.

Carlos grabbed Brett roughly from the floor, dragging him towards the exit.

"You are gonna regret this, man," he hissed in his ear as Brett's feet stumbled to keep up.

"She's just some cheap whore. What the fuck do you care?" Brett slurred, still with that smug grin on his battered face.

I saw red again. I hurried to catch up with them. Wide eyes followed us as Carlos dragged Brett through the club, pushing furiously out onto the street and dumping him on the pavement.

"If I ever see you're face again, I'll beat the crap outta you," Carlos loomed over him threateningly.

Brett lay laughing in the street. His one good eye which hadn't swollen from the punches I had already dealt him, met mine as he struggled to his feet.

"She wanted it. She was begging for it," he goaded me as he pulled himself up to my eye level.

It lasted all of one minute as my fist collided with his face again and he fell to the hard concrete, out cold.

Megan arrived at the door of the club, covered up in someone's coat just as he hit the floor.

Panic filled her eyes as she surveyed the scene then glanced over my shoulder, her eyes widening.

A hand on my shoulder alerted me to what she was staring at.

"You're under arrest, buddy," I heard as I felt my wrists being shackled behind me.

This night couldn't get any worse. Could it?