Stripped: Uncaged, #2

Chapter One

Zeke

Kyrios Club was a high-end strip club. Sure it was Greektown. Sure it was pretty fancy. Sure it was expensive. But the women were nearly nude on the stage while you had your top shelf drinks. It was the kind of place Zeke Powell’s parents warned thousands of parishioners about when he was growing up.

It was the kind of place that he could make pretty good money doing what he did best. Fight.

The normal poles and lights had been moved aside, and a cage stood in the middle. It was in the center of the huge space, and it was surrounded by spectators with cash out, collars loosened, and a clear lust for blood now and women later. Sin sin sin!

Zeke stifled a smile. This was his church now after a lifetime of being thumped by the Bible and his father. The only thumping today would be with his fists on whoever or whatever they put against him.

The promoter stepped into the center of the ring.

In this corner at 6’2, 245 pounds, Jerald Jones, former Heavy Weight Boxing Champion." The man had tree-trunk legs and was thick as hell. He had Zeke on size, no question. But it didn’t matter.

Zeke Powell had every single thing a man needed to dismantle anyone in front of him. Martial arts, boxing, wrestling, and a mean streak. You couldn’t train the mean streak. It came from hell itself or in Zeke’s case hell disguised as heaven.

In this corner, 6’1, 215 pounds, Zeke Armons."

There was no more preamble. It wasn’t his real last name, and any titles or awards he’d won were stripped from Zeke Powell anyway. He was also stripped of the reputation of being the good guy. He was none of it now.

The fighting name? Just a little inside joke to himself. Armons was the name of a fallen angel. One of Lucifer’s pals. His Dad would be livid if he’d been around. But he wasn’t.

Zeke was stripped of his old life, his old identity, just as thoroughly as the ladies who would dance on this stage after he finished annihilating the unsuspecting Jerald Jones.

He only had one goal these days. Release his rage in the cage. Collect a paycheck. And move on.

The fighters hit hands, and the battle began. Jones gave Zeke a good punch on the jaw. It hurt. It woke him up. It fired the lust for blood and punishment that was always under the surface for Zeke.

Zeke threw a few punches, but he knew Jones was the kind of man who could take a hit, or twenty. Zeke also knew it was a show.

Kyrios Club bosses wanted it to be entertaining. They wanted a battle, not a drubbing. Whether you were in Las Vegas at a billion dollar pay per view event or in a strip club in Greektown, the goal was the same. Give ‘em a show. Give ‘em a reason to keep betting and buying tickets. Zeke was aware. So he played along for a little while at least.

He gave Jerald Jones only a portion of the ass-kicking he could dole out, he did it a round at a time, until the third round. Of late, Zeke’s kicks were deadly. He’d waited for this moment. He’d waited until he felt the patrons had gotten their money’s worth of entertainment, but it was time to be done with this fight and collect his cash.

Jones’ arms were low Zeke observed. Jones leaned in, the man was tired and lacked the skills it would take to really hurt Zeke.

Zeke whirled around and landed his hard heel on the bottom of Jerald Jones’ chin. Zeke stepped immediately forward, charged in, he’d finish the job by punching the man once he was on the ground.

But there was no need. Jerald Jones was knocked out. Those tree-trunk legs were cut down by Zeke’s kick, and Jones landed in the center of the mat. Zeke stopped mid-charge and stepped back into his corner before the ref even ordered him to do so.

Zeke felt the familiar rush that came with dominating an opponent. To him, it was a drug. The only drug he needed. But he admitted to himself that the high wasn’t as good in this place. It wasn’t a Vegas event. Not even close. And the payday was shit.

But it was still fighting. It was what he trained his entire life to do. It was just not in the place or the way he dreamed of doing it.

The club manager Andreas Geftakis caught his eye and gave him a nod. He’d put on a good show.

And then someone else caught his eye. Behind the manager of Kyrios, was a woman, dark hair was piled on her head, her hands fluttered up to her large dark eyes, and she ran a finger underneath the rim. She blinked, and Zeke watched as she seemed to be pulling something back together from the inside out.

She’d been crying. Zeke forgot he was supposed to stand in the center of the ring. She’d leaped into the center of his focus and imagination. Who was she? She didn’t look like one of the strippers. She didn’t look like anyone else. He couldn’t look away from her.

Hey. Get your ass in the center. The ref barked at him. Zeke snapped out of it and stepped forward. The spell the woman had cast on him was broken.

What was had just happened? Maybe Jones’ punches were a little harder then he realized, he shook his arms and shoulders. He tilted his head from side to side to shake off the effect the dark-haired woman in the crowd had on him.

The ref grabbed his hand and raised it. The bar floor, crowded with men looking for blood, had gotten it, and they gave a cheer.

Get your drinks gentleman, the floor show at the world famous Kyrios Club starts in thirty minutes! A DJ announced the news as the place shifted from blood to boobs.

Zeke looked back to where Andreas was standing. The woman was gone.

Chapter Two

Joelle

Andreas, I can do this. You know I can. Just give me a chance.

You think you understand the vision of the Kyrios Club?

I think I do.

You failed spectacularly at Platinum. Andreas Geftakis hired Joelle Lagransky for her first job as an adult dancer.

I was not a failure at Platinum. Customers loved me.

Yeah, too much and then you were too classy to help me out there and capitalize on that love. You could do more shows there. Make me money that way.

Andreas was short, he had a lot of dark hair all over his body. The hair everywhere else contrasted with the few wisps on his tanned head. Joelle thought he was like a shark, always moving, room to room, club to club, dancer to dancer, and now concept to concept.

Andreas was the manager at Platinum. He’d hired her to dance there when she had nothing else. But she wanted out at Platinum and Joelle thought that Andreas could change her life with his ideas for Kyrios.

But first, she needed him to hire her.

They sat in a corner booth while tonight’s big fight went on behind them. Andreas kept looking over at the ring, wincing, pretending he was in the ring too. The fights were another change for Kyrios Club. Joelle spoke up in an attempt to get Andreas to take her seriously and listen.

Look, I’m a good dancer.

No question, and a lot of guests, well they have a taste for your show less, imply more, give nothing approach. That’s why you got this meeting.

I can help you make this work. I know I can.

I need to show the big money guys that Kyrios can be a higher end Scores. That there could be a Kyrios Club in Vegas, L.A., shit New Fucking York City. Some investors think we’ve got the possibility of a chain here. I need the girls classed up. I need the service top shelf. Big money’s at stake. In the end, you’re just a dancer I hired after your bullshit life had gone down the tubes.

Joelle ignored the dig. Her life had gone down the tubes, but she was trying like hell to change that.

I’m trained, classically trained, I’ve taught dance all my life. I know the job, I know how to manage the girls, and my bullshit is, well, that was a bad time.

If I give you this it isn’t a free pass not to dance. I’m paying for you to train the girls, yeah, but I want my money’s worth, you gotta be here, make the customers happy, do the table service, and whatever I want. I’ll charge high for you when you dance, but you’re going to have to teach by doing. This isn’t a hostess who stands around job. You’re going to have to shake your ass. Even if it is a classy assy. Andreas laughed at his own joke. Joelle barreled ahead.

I got it. I’ll work hard. You know that.

I do know that. Andreas leaned back and ran a hand over the dark wisps of hair.

Give me this chance. You won’t be sorry. I can help you take Kyrios Club to the next level you’re talking about.

Alright, Ballerina Girl. We’re going to do it. Starting tonight. Andreas got up out of the booth. Joelle clutched her bag close to her chest and followed.

You see this? They’re paying a great cover to get in for this? Andreas nodded toward the ring in the center of the club. Bar patrons were cheering, slapping each other on the shoulders. If it was possible to turn up the testosterone level of a strip club Andreas seemed to have done it by adding the violent sport. It was a true night out with the guys, and the guys were spending.

You won’t be sorry Andreas, Joelle said as the manager’s attention was shifting from their interview to the action in the center of the room.

Suddenly Andreas turned around and grabbed her by her upper arm. His hand was nearly able to circle it.

Listen and listen good. No fuck ups. And if the girls fuck up, it is also on you. Welcome to management training school. And that means you’re living in the place above the club, so you’ll be here even when I can’t be. I’ll take the rent out of your check. And you’re still too skinny. Andreas let go of her arm and looked back at the ring. The interview was over.

Joelle felt a tear well up in her eye. Dammit, she wouldn’t cry. But she was just so relieved. She could leave Platinum. She wiped the tear away. She didn’t want to give Andreas a reason to change his mind. She’d show him she was tough.

The crowd roared, and Joelle looked into the ring for the first time. She’d been so focused on convincing Andreas to give her the job managing the girls she’d ignored everything else.

She gasped when she really looked inside the cage. The man there was scary as hell. Chiseled muscle covered every inch of his body which was slick with sweat from the battle he’d just fought. A battle she’d ignored while she’d fought her own. He had long blonde hair bound at the base of his neck and a single tattoo, a cross, on one shoulder.

His chest rose and fell in the aftermath of the fight. It reminded her of a wild animal.

As she took in the sight of him, she slowly realized his eyes were on her too. They were blue she could see that under the spotlight and sweat dripped from his eyebrows to his lashes. She felt his eyes lock with hers as surely as if he’d reached out and grabbed her arm like Andreas had.

The ref grabbed the fighter’s arm and raised it. The strange second of connection was over. Thank God. Joelle didn’t need another set of hands trying to paw her. Not with a job to do. Not with what she was trying to prove to Andreas.

She was determined to change her life and her daughter’s. Gorgeous men didn’t factor into it. Just the opposite. One man not too different from the one in the ring had already pulled her all the way down. She was climbing up one dance at a time.

Joelle headed to the dressing room. It was time to meet the girls.

Chapter Three

Zeke

As the barn transformed itself back into a gentleman’s club, Zeke toweled off in a back room and put on his sweats. Most of his life was contained in one gym bag these days.

He liked it that way.

The manager caught up with him between the shelves of booze and food supplies. He handed Zeke five-hundred dollars in cash. It wasn’t the kind of money he’d made in the 21st Century Fighting League, hell it wasn’t even what they made in the lower tier leagues, but it was cash, no questions asked, and it was under the table.

Zeke was living fight to fight. Club to club and under the radar. That was fine. Above the radar meant questions he didn’t want to answer and connections he didn’t want to make.

Andreas, the manager, was happy with tonight’s gate.

When are you good to fight again, he asked.

Whenever you want. I’ve got one in South Point in a week just let me know what you’re thinking.

You doing okay for cash, fight to fight, like this?

Yeah, I get by. Why do you ask? Zeke was suspicious of everyone these days. He’d gone from liking and trusting most people on the planet to the exact opposite. It was tiring but necessary in this world.

I need some muscle around here, we’re expanding, you ever bounce? Work security?

Never thought about it. I’ve always been in the center of the fight. Never really been the one to break them up.

Well, you’d be doing that, and you’d be there if anyone got a little too friendly with my girls.

Yeah? Zeke wondered about the girl he saw with Andreas. She didn’t look like an exotic dancer. She looked more like an angel in his mind. He could imagine tearing apart anyone who looked her the wrong way.

Pay is top in town. And I’ve got a room upstairs. Nothing much, but it’s got a bed and a shower.

Let me think about it. I’m a fighter, not a security guard.

We’re classing the joint up. Expanding. Could be a good opportunity down the road.

Yeah? I’ll let you know.

Okay, don’t wait too long. I’m making changes around here, and they’re happening fast. Hey, Hey Freddie, you need to get those lemon slices up to the bar. Andreas was off to handle another of the million things that needed to be done at the Kyrios Club.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked down the hall back to the bar. That’s when his eyes found her again. Zeke hadn’t let a woman get under his skin in a long time. The last time hurt too bad. It’s not like he didn’t have opportunities. There were always women around fighters. They loved his blue eyes and biceps. But he ignored them. He was rootless and restless. He also wasn’t a one-night stand man. Some of how he was brought up he couldn’t shake. His Dad may have ignored that commandment Zeke didn’t.

But this woman, dark hair, tiny really, with little curves in the right places, kept grabbing his attention. She wasn’t dancing on the stage, she wasn’t cheering in the stands for him, she was just there. Something about her pulled him closer. Maybe it was the biggest pair of innocent looking dark eyes he’d ever seen. And why would someone so innocent be in a place like this?

He watched her. She was intent on taking in the show it appeared. She was watching the dancer come to the stage with a different focus than the gentlemen at the Kyrios Club.

Then from behind her a patron wrapped his hands around her and spun her to face him. Zeke continued to move closer, almost