The Club (4 page)

Rosalie

I awaken to the shouts of the coyote commanding the girls to exit the truck. Coyotes are common in Mexico. They are the men who smuggle illegal immigrants to the states. The only difference for us is that we have been abducted against our wills.

We have been dropped at a warehouse and locked in, just waiting for our torment to begin. I am ushered into a bathroom and commanded to strip by the madam.
Madam
will be the woman who will watch the abductees and help with the
turning out
process.

I am then taken so that my hair and make-up can be done and pushed into a bedroom with a locked door. Before Madam departs, she injects me with drugs.

A Latino man enters and roughly grabs me by the hair, looking me over crudely. I am grateful for the drugs and the fact that I’m barely coherent when he rapes me. The pimps call it
turning out
. In his warped mind, I now belong to him and as far as he is concerned, I owe him a lot of money. After all, he paid that coyote to bring me to New York. “You should be grateful,” he sneers before he leaves the room while buttoning his pants.

Sabrina

Life in Antonio’s gentlemen’s club is like life in any gentlemen’s club. There’s drama, drama, and more drama and I fucking eat it up for entertainment
.
I have been the alpha female for a long time due to the fact that I’m fucking Antonio Wayne and I make no excuses to any of these bitches for being in love with him.

From the day I graced the doors of Antonio’s club—appropriately named
The Club
due to the fact it is the place to be—I have been in love with him. This new bitch, Roxanne, being here is not sitting well with me at all. Though Antonio Wayne has made it clear to me that he’s not interested in a relationship, I’m convinced that will change.

I sashay my way through the dancer’s dressing room as if I own the place. After all, I’m the head bitch in charge.

I have been spending time researching Roxanne on the Internet. I, of all people, know how true the old adage of
keeping your friends close and your enemies closer
is and, in my world, it takes on a whole new meaning. Mine is a world where being the boss’s number one lady carries serious clout.

“Seems our little Roxanne is a cage fighter,” I indignantly inform the other dancers. “Looks like she stole from the wrong people when she tried to fuck the Ramirez brothers over.”

Now that I know I have everyone’s attention, I continue.

“Seems our girl has a couple of belts under her belt, if you know what I mean.”

Alexis giggles as she gets up, “That’s all the more reason for you to quit being a smart ass, huh Sabrina?”

“No Alexis, but it is all the more reason for you to shut the fuck up because we all know that you can’t fight and we all know I’m not scared to get my hands dirty.”

“Just like we all know I make more money than any of you bitches,” Alexis answers without missing a beat as she makes her way out to the floor to do just that—make an obscene amount of money. The girl does make a lot of money but she’s the least of my worries because she doesn’t like men. Maybe that’s why she takes their money and makes fools of them every night.

Alexis makes more money than any girl that works for Antonio and some nights, more than two or three girls combined. There is a reason for it too. Even though Alexis couldn’t care any less about any of the men she hustles, she has a way of making them feel as if they are the center of her world. Her looks don’t hurt either. She has long, corn silk, blonde hair that falls to the top of her ass. Her eyes are cobalt blue and her body is perfect, including the $10,000 custom boob job Antonio Wayne purchased for her.

Antonio Wayne is the center of Alexis’ world and as far as she is concerned, he can do no wrong. She sees him as a father figure and is more informal than the other girls, calling him Tony. She says that he is everything her father has never been. Antonio has given her the one thing her father never did and that is approval. He provides her with feelings of acceptance that her own family denied her and it is for that simple reason that she will feel forever indebted to him. I’ve spent my time studying all these bitches. After all, a girl needs to know her competition or, better yet, my competition’s weaknesses.

Antonio Wayne

Screams from the floor reach the dressing room and, in a matter of seconds, the women are huddled at the door, not wanting to miss the action.

Becky, one of the dancers, makes her way over to my table and says, “Boss, we’ve got problems. Rico has Roxanne cornered in the hall.”

I tear through the bar, ripping my way through people to get to Roxanne.

When I arrive, Diego has Rico picked up a foot off the ground, telling him in broken English, “You no bother Missy.”

It’s evident by the look on her face that Roxanne is feeling trapped and she’s scared that things are about to get very ugly. Due to my large frame, I’m able to reach through the crowd with ease to grab Roxanne. I yell for everyone to go but when Rico attempts to make his exit, I growl, “Not you,” grabbing him by the back of his collar with my other hand.

“Rico, Rico, Rico, I’m very disappointed by your lack of respect for my wife. You caused problems in Louisville with Drake and I got you out of that. The agreement was that you were to return to Mexico and yet, here you are, causing me problems in New York. Is this how you repay me after all I have done for you?”

Roxanne is huddled underneath my arm, trying to stay out of the drama unfolding in front of her, but her body tremors alert me to the fact that she scared of what I might do. I’m certain the look on my face is that of a predator going in for a kill.

“I had no idea that she was yours,” Rico frantically answers. Even Rico, as feared of a pimp as he is, has a very healthy respect for me. He is well aware I have connections that no one else in New York has. All I have to do is pick up the phone. I have the ability to start a Colombian street war with just one call. My brother, Ricardo, has access to Colombian cartel so Rico won’t be dealing with one enemy, but two brothers who have deadly Colombian connections.

I’m known for my ability to torture an enemy to bring them under submission. I’m feared by the most dangerous pimps and hustlers in New York and Rico doesn’t want to get on my bad side.

“Rico, I beg to differ! When you come into my establishment you should respect all of my women, but my wife, Rico? You have hit below the belt. This is unacceptable.”

I turn my attention to my wife and bend down to growl in her ear, “And you… I will deal with you later.”

“What is your business here, Rico?” I squint my eyes, turning my attention back to him. “Please assure me that you are not in here trolling, not trying to move in on my territory, or pick up any of my women.”

“No, No, No,” Rico answers, almost on the verge of panic. He doesn’t want to make an enemy of me; I’m certain he likes all ten of his fingers. I have made a practice of being brutal and even going so far as to cut off body parts, or gouge out eyes, in order to send a message.

“I think you owe my wife an apology and then you should go.”

“I’m very sorry, ma’am. Please forgive me.” With that, Rico is gone.

“Diego!” I scream, “My wife… backed in a corner. The only thing saving you is that you did your job and removed her from a very dangerous situation. What is your job description, Diego?”

Diego is standing very still and looking down at the floor, scared of my temper. “To watch over Missy.”

“Very good. I expect this to never happen again!” I answer.

“Si Señor, Si.

I grab my wife’s arm and escort her to my table.

“I need a shot, Antonio Wayne.”

“Where are your manners, Roxanne?”

“Please,” she whispers. She’s scared of how I’m going to react to everything that has happened. I nod at the waitress, never taking my eyes off of her. I have her cornered in the booth and it is evident I’m very irritated with this situation.

Roxanne

The way he is eyeing me is like something I have never experienced. I feel like I can’t look directly into his cold, black eyes. He scares me. I don’t know what to expect from this stranger who now shares my bed. Just knowing what is expected of me would give me some kind of power but I don’t even have that.

I have no idea my husband has full intentions of literally interrogating me. The same way a prisoner or a criminal would be interrogated, my husband will question me. I will find out it is a common practice that he uses on prisoners when he or his brother needs information from them.

“Roxanne, Roxanne, Roxanne, what is the number one rule?”

“Not to talk to the players or pimps,” I whisper. That much I do know.

“And yet, there you were in the hallway alone, talking to that man. What were you thinking? It was Rico Suave of all people. I ask again, what were you thinking?”

“He cornered me, Antonio Wayne.”

He growls in my ear, “Did he touch you, Roxanne? Don’t lie to me!”

“No!” I answer too quickly. Antonio reaches over, grabbing my hair and kissing me as he makes his way around to my ear and growls, “You’re lying to me, little one.”

His fingers clench around my face as he begins kissing and nibbling on my bottom lip. “Liar, little liar, mentirosa,” he taunts me.

“You’re a liar and a very bad one at that, Roxanne. You’re scared. Oh, you are a bad girl, Roxanne. I know he touched you.”

“I need another shot, Antonio Wayne.”

“Stop looking away from me, Roxanne. Though I realize this is all new to you, it’s very important that you realize I have enemies, deadly enemies. They will use you to hurt me. Do you understand?”

I force myself to look into his eyes—two orbs that resemble bottomless, black pools and, for me, they hold no mercy.

“I understand,” I whisper.

“No, innocent one, you have no idea how cold and cruel my world is.”

For the first time since meeting my husband, I see sadness in his face it makes my heart wrench.

Great, now I’m feeling compassion for this monster.

The waitress comes over without even realizing my plight—being under Antonio’s intense scrutiny. I doubt any of these women have any idea of the anguish I’m going through while being held captive by this man. I am the only woman here who doesn’t want Antonio Wayne, yet I am the woman he has to have. I guess I should be flattered but I’m not; I’m scared and confused.

He leans in to kiss me and starts to lightly chew on my bottom lip. I have allowed my head to rest on the back of the booth and I can hear little sounds escaping my mouth. This man, a virtual stranger, is able to bring me so much pleasure. Not only is he in my bed and taken full command of my body, but he is beginning to infiltrate my head as well.

Already I find myself thinking of him and craving his touch. I’m well aware that if I don’t get away from him soon, it will become more of a challenge to not connect with him.

“Where did he touch you?” Antonio asks, intently studying my face.

“Antonio Wayne, please, what are you doing to me? I don’t want you and I don’t want to be here.”

“Liar! Tell me where he touched you.”

The look on his face promises punishment. Why is he so concerned about another man touching me? It isn’t like I was mauled in the hallway. The only thing Rico did was reach out and stroke my hair. The way he was looking at me was kind of creepy, like he was hypnotized or under a spell, but that was it.

“He just touched my hair; he just stroked my hair,” I stutter.

He coyly looks at me, “Are you lying to me, little girl?”

“No, I promise, Antonio Wayne.”

“And how did you find yourself in this situation, in a hallway with one of my enemies pawing all over you? How do think I feel about another man touching my wife? What were you thinking?”

“You’re making a big deal of nothing, Antonio Wayne.”

I will wish I had not said that because he viciously grabs a handful of my hair, jerking my head back to hit the top of the booth.

“A big deal of nothing? How dare you!” he growls at me. He looks savage and his temple is twitching uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I answer.

He sadistically smiles. “That’s better, but how could you have dealt with this differently?”

“I should have told someone where I was going.” “Someone,” he growls in my ear, “someone?”

“Antonio Wayne, please, you’re scaring me. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

“I want to know where you are at all times so these things don’t happen. You know I deal with dangerous men. Do you think it is smart for you to put yourself in these situations?” Though the music reverberating off the walls of this establishment is almost deafening, his message of ownership rings loud and clear in my ears.

I scream out in frustration, “I didn’t do anything wrong; I was going to the bathroom.” I don’t like the way he is manipulating me with his words. He is turning everything Rico did around on me like it’s my fault. I refuse to let this stranger mentally fuck with my head.

He sticks his finger in my face, “You had better watch it, little girl. The last thing you want to do is get on my bad side. He takes my face in his hands, scrunching it. “You had better watch it, little girl,” he reiterates but this time with more aggression.

“Let me out!” I demand. “I want out. I want out of this booth and out of this marriage! I just fucking want out period!”

“You will never get out!” He grabs me by my throat and squeezes, “You belong to me. Do you understand? You put yourself in this situation by letting Rico back you in a corner and paw all over you and you put yourself in the situation of being my property when you stole from my brother.

“I refuse to let you go. I mean it, Roxanne. Do not test me. I am a very powerful man and these are very dangerous words that you throw around so frivolously. Your impulsive nature is very unsettling to me. Don’t ever forget that you did this to yourself when you decided to throw that fight.”

Before I can stop him he pulls me from the booth and tosses me over his shoulder. Curious onlookers gawk at us as he carries me from the club all while my fists frantically beat at his back to no avail.

He takes me up a set of steps and through a door that houses an apartment. Thoughts of how I can use it to my benefit go through my head at this inopportune time. Really… shouldn’t I be thinking about saving my ass rather than living in this newly discovered apartment and working for the guy who has abducted me? He slams me onto the bed and hesitates when our eyes connect. I use the opportunity to kick him.

“Damn you!” His hands fist hair on both sides of my head and he shakes me as if it will bring me around to his way of thinking.

“I won’t fucking stay here, Tony.”

“My name isn’t Tony. To you, it’s Master.”

“Fuck you! Nobody owns me!”

The look on his face is shadowed, dangerous, and ultimately… lustful. It dawns on me that he enjoys it when a woman puts up a fight and I have given him an all-out street brawl.

He flips me over, removing his belt with perfectly synced timing. I never see the strike coming after he lifts my dress and rips my G-string from my body. I sure as hell feel it, though, when the leather hits the virgin skin on my ass that’s never been subjected to the fierce lash of a man’s belt.

Ten strikes later and I’m sobbing with tears and snot running onto the mattress. He drops his pants and leans over to whisper in my ear, “if you move those fucking hands of yours from above your head, you’re going to get a hell of a lot worse than the belt.”

My fingers clench at the sheets in rebellion as he begins to slowly run the head of his cock up and down my opening.

“Well, well, well, I do believe we’re onto something here, young lady.”

He thrusts into me in one smooth move and pain sears through my core as my tight opening tries to accommodate the size of his cock. He begins running his hands over my ass as if he is taking in the artwork he has just crisscrossed on my backside.

“Fucking talking to a pimp. You’re mine. How dare you.”

I can feel the fluid my body produces for him and I’m confused why I love the touch of a man I hate so vehemently.

“You’re kinky as fuck and you don’t even know it. I’m watching you, Roxanne,” he whispers. It is more of a threat-laced promise than a statement.

“Push back on that cock, baby girl. Fuck your man,” he commands me as he all but pulls out of my opening.

My body betrays me, pushing back onto the cock that has exited my opening. He has left me empty and unsatisfied by pulling out of me and I hate the fact that I want him filling me again. I hate the fact that I push back onto him. I hate him.

“Oh yeah, that’s it. Now rub that sensitive little clit of yours and come all over my cock.”

His fingers gently run up and down my back, tracing the welts, as I push back onto him repeatedly. My thrusts become more desperate as my finger finds its way around my swollen clit. A kaleidoscope of colors fills my now impassioned world. The woman I hear screaming out in ecstasy isn’t me; she is some dark, tainted, and twisted alter ego who enjoys what my captor is doing.

I begin begging as he joins in my symphony of lust and his thrusts become more demanding. He is taking what he believes is his.

“You fucking deserve to be hurt,” he hisses, ignoring my pleas for mercy.

“You may hate me… but you’re going to respect me.”

He unloads into me and then cruelly pushes me away as if he was using me for nothing more than a release, a way to appease the monster residing within him.

I have underestimated my captor; he is much crueler than I ever anticipated. Tonight I will sleep in his Master bedroom in the cage he purposely placed there for just this reason. He’s letting me know through his actions that I am nothing more than his prisoner… I am his property…