Lovely Lies

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Chapter 1

Makynzee

Not much surprises or upsets me anymore when it comes to my mom. In fact, the only things that actually mean anything to me in this house are my Beats headphones, my music, gymnastics, and what little is left of my sanity. I’m surprised that I actually have to contemplate which upsets me more; the stinging sensation across the left side of my face, from the slap my mom just delivered or the sight of her foot stomping on my headphones which flew from my ears when she hit me. I’m a pretty practical girl, so I go with the stomping of the headphones. Before she demolishes them I swoop down and snatch them up. Then our staring contest begins. My look asks what now?, hers is unreadable, but I think I win. She looks away first.

You and these stupid ass headphones make me sick, instead of sitting in your room you should be out trying to find a job and figure out a way to pay for college so I’m not stuck with you for another four years.

If you hadn’t spent all of the money Daddy saved for me I’d be long gone.

This surprises her…and me. I’ve never disrespected my mother, never uttered a word back to her. Her surprise quickly fades as anger replaces the previous emotion and I’m dealt another blow to the face. This time she uses the back of her left hand. The skin on my cheek catches the wedding ring that she still wears and I suppress a yell as I feel the pain. I bring my hand up to my face then look down at the blood that covers my fingers. There’s not much blood so I know it’s not a big cut, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. I look up at my mother and her eyes dare me to say anything. I don’t. I cower away from her and avert my eyes to the floor.

If you weren’t such a fat fuck, you’d still be able to do gymnastics and get a full scholarship!

I keep my eyes trained on the floor. I’m not fat and I can definitely still do gymnastics.

And if you hadn’t gotten your daddy killed, he’d still be here to take care of us!

I block out her hateful words. My father died in a car accident almost a year ago. As if I didn’t blame myself enough, my mom blames me even more. I can hear her saying, If you had been where you were supposed to be, he wouldn’t have been rushing to get you to practice. My dad had lain in a coma for four days before the doctors told my mom it would be best to pull the plug. I’d walked away from the wreck without a scratch; no cuts, no bruises, no broken bones, no nothing. When she told the doctors to let him go, I fought her. I fought them. It took two orderlies and a sedative to calm me down. When I woke up he was gone. I found solace in food. When my mom noticed my weight gain she called me a whore and took me to the doctor for a pregnancy test. When it came back negative, she started force feeding me diet pills and wouldn’t allow me to eat anything other than salads and crackers. As nasty as it was, I was thankful for school lunch, but she caught on to that as well. She told all my teachers and the principle that my eating habits were interfering with my gymnastics and that I was only allowed to eat what she packed for me. The damage had already been done though. Everything that I ate found its way to my hips and butt and no matter what my mom did it wouldn’t go away. She pulled me out of gymnastics. I was devastated. I begged her to let me stay, but she said I looked like a pig in a blanket in my leotards and it was embarrassing to her. That was my junior year in high school. I’m in the final stretch of my senior year now and have nothing to look forward to. No more Olympics, no more sponsors, no more scholarships, and no more money. Fuck my life.

I only have one friend, Jaida. Enemies surface when she’s not around. I don’t know if I can fight, never had to. I’m pretty sure I remembered a few things from the martial arts classes my dad made me take when I was younger; kicking to be specific. I’m a great kicker. Jay’s the fighter; I’m the one with the mouth. Without her I’m an easy target. My ponytail being yanked back right now proves that. My notebook crashes to the floor and I instinctively grab the hand that has my hair.

I feel a fist in my stomach as Kristen says, Your bodyguard ain’t here to save you today.

My attempt to double over in pain is thwarted by another yank of my hair. My fight or flight sense kicks in. I can’t run, so I claw wildly at the person closest to me. It’s Kristen who feels my wrath and before I realize it I’m on top of her clawing at her face. I didn’t know I was a scratcher, too! I notice movement to my left and look up just in time to get a foot to my face. Damn.

Grab her! Michelle yells

Two sets of hands restrain me and I know there’s no use in fighting anymore. I watch as Kristen recomposes herself and stands in front of me.

You’re pathetic, no wonder your dad killed himself.

That’s a lie and a low blow. I kick as hard as I can, sending her crashing into the adjacent wall just as Mr. Glenstone comes into the corridor. Angela quickly says, Makynzee attacked Kristen, we tried to pull her off of her, but she just went crazy! Kristen plays the part well. She lies on the floor in the fetal position pretending to cry. Stupid skank. He breaks us up and sends Angela and Michelle away. He takes in my messy ponytail and the now bleeding scratch on my cheek before asking, Care to explain this?

I glare at Kristen and say, It’s nothing. I really want to rip her head off for what she said about my dad.

She says, We were headed to lunch and she called me a whore. When I told her to take it back she started trying to scratch me in my face.

Nobody tells anybody to take stuff back anymore; we’re not six years old.

We can settle this here and now or we can go to the office and have your parents involved.

I stare at Kristen in silence as she continues to profess her innocence.

Is this settled?

I pick my notebook up and say, Yes.

When he lets us go I call my mom and fake the worst cramps ever. Surprisingly, she comes and picks me up. When I get home I make a beeline for my bedroom and swallow two Tylenols without any water. I stand in my bathroom staring at myself in the mirror as my head throbs in pain. I slide my fingers through my hair, which stops in the middle of my back. Every time I get into a fight, it’s what they go for. This is the logic I use when I grab the scissors from the cabinet below the sink and begin hacking away. I’m surprised when I walk out the bathroom and see my mom standing there with a glass of water and a bottle of pain meds. She drops them both and stares at me slack-jawed as water and glass scatter around her feet.

I look at the floor and say, Everybody always pulls my hair.

I expect her to hit me, but she leaves instead. An hour later I’m sitting in a beauty salon.

Chapter 2

Makynzee

It’s Saturday. I stare at Jay in shock. She stares at me in shock. I’d gone to her house to show her my hair and tell her about the fight and she’d blurted out that she wasn’t at school because they’re moving. I wait for her to say something and when she does I’m thrown off.

You look prettier, more mature; you could definitely pass for 21 now.

You’re leaving me?

Next Friday.

I finally take notice of the boxes and packing tape everywhere. What am I gonna do when you’re gone? Kristen and her goons tried to jump me yesterday.

I’ll fucking kill them!

She has anger management issues. I have them too. I just know how to channel mine. She’s violent with hers. Her first instinct is to fight and curse. I hate cursing. It’s nothing, Jay. I actually got in some pretty good hits.

That means they’ll come back for more, you can’t let them see your weakness.

I’m not worried about them. Where am I gonna go when my mom starts acting crazy?

Promise me you won’t let them bully you, they come at you, you better fight!

Okay. I shake my head up and down for emphasis.

Come on, she says as she grabs my hand and leads me upstairs.

The next two months go by in a blur. I can only remember the four fights and the suspensions I got as a result. I got a job as a waitress at a local restaurant, but the money is nowhere near what I want. Financial aid won’t be enough and I don’t want to be stuck paying off student loans. I guess that’s why I’ve been to four different strip clubs trying to get hired as a dancer. One of the owners said that with my looks and body I should consider more than dancing. Not an option. Jay used to strip twice a week. When I told her I was going to try it out she went off on me.

You’re not cut out for that, Mak. They’ll eat you alive.

Maybe she’s right. I’m headed inside the fifth club of the day. I’m not as fragile as she thinks I am though. I look around and see a guy sitting behind the bar. He glances up at me as I walk in, but looks back down at the papers on the bar. Obviously I pose no threat to him because he doesn’t look up again until I’m close enough to say excuse me. What happens next confuses me. My throat feels like sand paper, I forget how to speak, and my stomach is filled with butterflies. All of this happens within three seconds of him looking at me. He’s beautiful. Wait, I don’t think men can actually be beautiful, so what is he? Handsome would be an understatement.

With a slight frown, he asks, What you need?

Damn, his voice only adds to my current struggle to take him all in. He looks dangerous…sexy. I think I should be scared, but he stops frowning. I struggle to find my voice as he gets up and begins to walk to me. He’s very tall. Very athletic looking; his body is amazing. I wanna touch him.

You look lost, where you trying to go?

Of course I would turn into a mute right now. Did I expect anything more of myself? I try to speak, but my voice seems to still be on vacation. I’ve never been this drawn to anyone before. His skin is dark, much darker than mine, but his eyes are a weird mixture of green and something else, maybe brown. Color doesn’t matter though, they’re stunning. I get lost in them and before I know it he’s standing directly in front of me.

You okay?

His scent assaults my nose. Someone should seriously bottle it up just for me. His voice gives me goose bumps. He’s much taller than I thought. I’m 5’7 and wearing heels and I still have to tilt my head to look at him. I finally manage to croak out, I’m fine." I clear my throat and he smiles at me. I feel faint. If it were physically possible, I’d melt.

Then what you need?

I’m looking for Kalil. I glance at the paper in my hand to make sure I say the right name.

He walks away and asks, Who sent you here?

Blue.

Why?

I need a job. She said to tell him to cash in the favor he owes her.

A job doing what?

He’s frowning again. I’m not sure if I should be offended or not. The obvious answer would be dancing, but he seems to be genuinely curious. I decide to be offended. Well this is a strip club isn’t it?

How old are you?

21.

He stares at me in silence then sits on one of the bar stools. Bullshit, your real age.

I should have expected a challenge.

21. I reach into my purse and pull out my sister’s ID. I’ve kept it since she left two weeks after my dad died. I’ve never felt the need to use it until now. He holds his hand out and I slowly walk to him. He stares at it for a few seconds then looks at me.

This could be fake, Riley.

I say, It could be real.

He stares at me again. His eyes bore through me, as though he can see all of my secrets. I take the ID from him and step back as though it would make his gaze less penetrating. It doesn’t and I suddenly feel the need to tell him the truth. Are you Kalil?

You ever danced before?

I hate when people answer one question with another. Are you Kalil? I don’t like repeating myself, but I won’t answer his questions until I know who I’m talking to. He calls my bluff and repeats his question. Okay, so I’m a little punk. I tell him yes, but leave out the fact that it’s been years since I’ve had an audience. Alone in my bedroom counts for something, right? I’m still a performer and one hell of a dancer.

Show me?

Right now?

He shakes his head up and down.

For the third time I ask, Are you Kalil?

Sure, now show me.

Is that a yes or a no?

Doesn’t matter, all dancers audition, so show me.

I’ll only dance for Kalil. I wonder how much longer I can stall. He smiles again before reaching in his back pocket and pulling out a wallet. I love his smile. He gives me his driver’s license, which shows that he’s 24 years old, 6’7 is his height, he weighs 267 lbs, and he is indeed Kalil. I take a deep breath and pass it back to him. There’s no music."

So?

He gets up and goes behind the bar. I watch in silence as he pours a shot of dark colored liquor and slides it to me.

On the house.

I don’t drink.

So you’re shy and you don’t drink, two reasons for you to not be here talking to me about being a dancer, He says as he takes the shot.

I don’t have to be a drinker to be a dancer. I’m losing money and I haven’t even started earning it yet.

Sometimes it helps.

We stare at each other in silence and he comes from behind the bar. My instincts tell me to back away, but I want to smell him again…I need to have him invading my personal space. This need is foreign to me and I frown trying to figure out where it came from. When I frown he stops just short of being in my space. I can smell him though. His scent intoxicates me.

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, you can work the bar and the tables, we open at nine and close at two, you keep your tips and start at $10 per hour.

I didn’t come here to be a barmaid, I can do that anywhere. I take a step forward. I still need him closer to me. He doesn’t expect this. It stuns him and surprisingly he takes a step back. We both frown. Was I just rejected?

You won’t get tips like this anywhere else and all dancers audition.

He’s regained his composure. I stare at him and continue to frown, but say nothing as I fight the urge to touch him. He can’t be real, right?

And you wouldn’t get hired anywhere else to be a barmaid. You gotta be 21 to serve alcohol.

He smiles as if trying to catch me in a lie. I’ll play his games. I smile back. He frowns.

You saw my ID, I wanna dance and last time I checked the legal age to be a dancer was 18. I boldly step up to him, closing the gap between us. If I get any closer, he’ll feel the unnaturally rapid beat of my heart. I have no idea who I am right now.

When you’re really ready to dance, you can audition.

I faintly smell the liquor from the shot he just took. I think I like it. I lose my bravado and reluctantly back away. He smiles and sits back on the bar stool, waiting for me to respond. Do I need a uniform?

Denim shorts or skirt, your choice, mid-thigh or shorter. Black or white shirt, no granny shit. Shoes gotta be heels, pumps, open toe, wedges, whatever you like, no flats.

By the time he’s done talking I’m mentally calculating my wardrobe to see if I need to stop by the mall. When do I start? I look down at my watch. I have to have my mom’s car back to her in three hours and my house is two hours away from this club.

Tomorrow.

Do I need to fill out any paperwork?

He frowns again. You trying to get me locked up?

That means my money will be tax free. It also means he knows I’m not 21. Anything else?

Are you even legal enough to be a dancer?

I’m momentarily silenced by his eyes. Plus three.

He smiles. You need a name tag, would you like for me to put Riley on it?

He’s being sarcastic.

Can’t you just make something up?

If you tell me your real name. I think I at least deserve that.

He waits for me to answer him, but I don’t.

Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow, come early. Ask for Cari, she’ll show you arpund. He grabs the papers he was looking at when I walked in and starts walking towards an opening at the very back of the club.

Makynzee, I say.

He turns to me and asks, Did that kill you?

Instead of responding I turn and leave. By the time I make it to my mom’s car my heartbeat has begun to slow to its normal rhythm. I’m not sure if my nerves are frazzled from him or the fact that I was just hired as a barmaid in a strip club.

Chapter 3

Makynzee

My mom thinks I’m working at the restaurant. When I get to the club I call her and tell her I took an extra shift and I’ll be home late. She doesn’t object. She said she needed a break from me anyway. I think she’s seeing someone. I don’t care. I throw my keys into my purse and go inside the club. I see a few men by the stage - none of them Kalil - and a woman behind the bar. She’s on the phone, but when she sees me she smiles and waves me over. By the time I reach her she’s hung up.

She smiles and asks, You’re Minx?

Who?

Kalil said to look out for the new girl, that’s you, right?

Oh, yeah. I’m Minx.

Well come on back, let me show you a few things. Put your purse and keys in this safe, only open it before we open and after we close, only the barmaids use this one. If you miss the cutoff use one of the lockers in the back. Wear this for your tips.

She tosses me a garter. I quickly slip it on my thigh as the three men approach us.

This the new chick?

Minx, meet Chino, Ralphie, and Bruce. Anybody mess with you, their hands linger too long when they giving you tips, being disrespectful, let them know.

I smile and shake their hands. Bruce doesn’t let go.

I’m sorry, but I gotta ask, he says.

I know the question before he asks it, especially with the shorts I’m wearing. I used to have no curves at all. Since my indulgence in food, I’ve always been asked if my butt is real or not. I’m not even sure if it’s actually that big or if the rest of me is just that small. I tell him it’s real.

Well that’s nice, but my question was can I touch it?

Get out of here Bruce, you’re supposed to protect her, not harass her, Cari says and pushes him away before going back into her training spill.

By the end of the night I’ve spilled a million drinks and messed up just as many orders. I’m tired and not looking forward to the two hour drive home. Surprisingly, I made about $250 in tips. Cari said once I get the hang of it, I’ll make more. I can sacrifice a little sleep for that. As expected, I felt hands all over me all night. Not looking forward to that part. It wasn’t as bad as I expected though. The clientele for this club seems to be pretty high. I grab my purse from the safe and head to the door. Just as I step outside I hear someone call my name; my real name. I haven’t seen him all night. Just the thought of seeing him now causes butterflies to take up real estate in my stomach. I pretend I don’t hear him and keep walking. I push the auto start on my mom’s car and within seconds of the club’s door closing he’s next to me. I can’t look at him. Those eyes will tear me apart. I’m already drunk off his scent again.

He gently grabs my arm and says, Never walk out here by yourself.

I’m instantly awake. His touch burns into my arm, sends shockwaves deep into me. I stop walking and glance up at him. I think he feels it too because he quickly drops his hand. Too late. I still feel his touch and I want it again. Okay. I reluctantly walk away although I think he’s watching me. I stop walking and glance back to make sure. He is and he’s frowning as if trying to figure something out. Before slipping into the car I say, Have a good weekend.

My arm still burns. A glance in the rearview mirror tells me he’s still standing there. I can’t see his face, but I’m sure he’s still frowning. I wish I knew what he was thinking. When I finally make it home, I sneak into my room and take a quick shower. Even though I’m tired I can’t fall asleep. I can’t shake his image from my head. I can’t get the smell of him out of my nose. I glance up at the clock and see that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. For the first time in a long time I touch myself. I let my hands become Kalil’s hands. I love the way they feel against my skin. Gently pinching my nipples…slowly caressing my thighs…slipping two fingers inside of me. I welcome his touch, yearn for it. I erupt quickly. My body convulses. I bite my bottom lip to keep from yelling out. I needed that. Sleep comes easily.

I graduated from high school today. My mom actually showed up long enough to see me walk across the stage. She actually looked like she was proud of me. That had to be my imagination though because she disappeared before the ceremony was done and she’s not home now. I leave for work early. I’ve been working at the club for a while now. In tips alone, I make about $300-$500 a night, depending on the section I’m working. I’m satisfied with that for now. I avoid Kalil at all costs. It’s not hard though. When he’s here he’s usually in his office or entertaining VIP guests. Women throw themselves at him, literally. It’s ridiculous, but I definitely can’t blame them. Every blue moon one gets lucky and he leaves with her. I actually have the audacity to be jealous…imagine that. It should be me he leaves with. Since that night in the parking lot he’s said little to nothing to me. I think I’m in love with him. Every once in a while he lets me catch him watching me, but he never says much. I guess that’s okay though, since every other word out of his mouth is a curse word. When the VIP guests request the tall waitress with the fat ass he makes up an excuse. That’s the case tonight and it pisses me off. I’m not sure what pisses me off more, the fact that he doesn’t want me around or the fact that he’s messing with my tips. I’m still practical, so of course I go with the fact that he doesn’t want me around. When I decide to go with this reason it pisses me off even more. I know for a fact that the majority of the men in here would love for me to be around them. I watch him for a while knowing that sooner or later he’ll leave the guys he’s with. When he does, I follow him. He smiles when he sees me coming towards him and it pisses me off even more when he ducks into the men’s room. I hesitate as two guys come out then make my way inside. I freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He’s leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest and the bastard is smiling at me.

I’m impressed, didn’t think you would come in.

Those damned eyes. I fold my arms across my chest, mimicking his stance.

I know they asked for me.

And?

And you told them no.

And?

I’m pretty sure I had a snappy comeback, but just as I’m about to speak the door opens and a few guys walk in.

As I look back at them, Kalil says, Occupied.

They look around in confusion then turn and walk back out. When I look back at Kalil, he’s frowning. He looks dangerous again. I shiver slightly as goose bumps cover my arms. When the door closes his frown disappears.

He asks, You cold?

Why?

Because you shivered.

Maybe I should have been more specific. Why did you tell them no, Kalil? I’m irritated. He stares at me as if contemplating answering, but doesn’t. An answer would be nice. I put my hands on my hips. His eyes follow my hands then drop lower. I can only imagine what he’s thinking. I wish he would actually do it. Wait…I do? Up here, Kalil! I clap my hands in front of my face to get his attention. He takes his time bringing his eyes back up to mine. I should have let him keep them where they were. His gaze is smoldering. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. I don’t want to.

I need you to close tonight, he says.

I frown. Not what I expected him to say. I can’t, if I close that puts me getting home after… Damn him, he almost had me. I don’t close. He smiles and begins to walk to me. I’m not sure why, but I back away. Stupid bathroom door. I’m stuck. He stops in front of me, inches away from our bodies touching. I frown and ask, What are you doing?

He asks, Can you please close tonight?

This isn’t about me; he just needs me to cover for Cari. No, ask one of the other girls.

I’m not asking anymore, I’m telling. You’re closing tonight.

Before I can respond the door opens causing me to fall forward. He makes no attempts to move or stop me from falling. I land against his chest and he wraps one arm around my waist to hold me steady. I’m putty in his hands and I think he knows it.

Occupied! he says as he uses his free hand to stop it from swinging open any further and possibly hitting me.

Sorry boss, we got a situation.

It’s Bruce. Effortlessly, Kalil lifts me and places me behind him. Don’t move, he says.

I ignore him. He’s not the boss of me. Wait, he actually is. Before he even turns back to Bruce I slip past him and hurry back to the bar.

Kalil

I watch Mak load her drink tray and shake her head at Cari before disappearing into the crowd. I ignore half of what Bruce is saying and cut him off.

How old do you think she really is?

18, maybe 19.

I got her by at least 6 years, so what the hell is wrong with me when she’s around?

Love bug, y’all should hook up.

Love bug? Shut up, Bruce, that’s fucking stupid. I only half listen as he tells me about the situation he claims we have. My mind is still on having her body against mine. Can’t deny that she felt good as fuck. She was scared though; I could feel her heart pounding in her chest. If Bruce hadn’t walked in I think I would have tested the softness of those lips. Since he interrupted us, I interrupt him. Handle it Bruce, you don’t need me for that.

I’m on it boss.

I scan the crowd until I find her. She’s smiling and giving drinks to a group of guys who look to be in their early twenties. They look drunk and each one that stuffs a tip into her garter lets their hands linger. That’s that shit I don’t like. As she turns to walk away from them her smile disappears. She takes a few steps then stops walking and I think she’s caught me staring at her, but she puts the smile back on before turning back to them. I watch as one guy holds up a few bills and says something to her. Her smile is instantly replaced by a frown and without thinking I start to make my way towards them. Her lips are moving. They all laugh except the guy holding the money. He frowns and says something back to her.

I was just looking for you. Bruce said you went to your office, China says as he walks with me.

We know these dudes at Minx table? I ask without taking my eyes off of them.

Not really, bachelor party.

With that being said I can guess what he asked her. I watch as she says something back to him before turning to walk away and I’m sure she sees me this time. She stares at me for a few seconds and just as she’s turning to walk in the opposite direction the guy stands up and slaps her on her ass causing her to stumble forward. That had to hurt. I’m not sure what I expected to happen next. I had a mental image of physically damaging somebody’s child, but what actually happens stops me and Chino in our tracks. When she catches herself from falling she tilts the drink tray and lets the other drinks fall from it. She turns back to face the guy who’s now laughing with his friends and slams the tray into his face. Damn! The guy falls back on the table and everyone around them watches in shock as she yells something to him. He grabs his nose and when he realizes he’s bleeding he jumps up from the table