“From what I’ve just been told, Sienna’s still interested. I’m sure she’d be more than willing to help you out,” he said.
I wanted to punch Damen’s ugly grin off his face, but I didn’t. I snorted into my glass. “Not likely.”
He shrugged, like it didn’t matter either way, and turned to Chris, done talking to me for the time being. “Candy’s back.”
“I thought she moved on.” For a brief moment Chris’s apathy was replaced with concern. He’d had a thing for Candy back in the day. It was probably the closest he’d ever been to a relationship, if one could call it that. She was a stripper who dabbled in prostitution, so clearly it wasn’t monogamous, but he’d actually cared about her, made a real connection for once. He’d ultimately walked away, though, unable to deal with the bullshit that came with dating someone who got naked for a living.
Damen’s smile was malicious. “You know how it is. They think the grass is greener on the other side. Eventually they end up back where they belong.”
“You’re such a fucking dick,” I said, unable to rein in my contempt. “You know the only reason they come back is because you get them hooked on whatever smack it is you’re dealing, so they can’t function without it.”
“No one forces coke up their noses.”
“You might as well. It’s quite the little setup you and Sienna have going here, isn’t it? You’re an entrepreneurial genius.”
“Hayden, man, chill out,” Chris said, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.
“It’s fine, Chris. Go ahead, Hayden, it sounds like you’ve got something on your mind.” Damen leaned in, like he was ready for some epic revelation on my part.
Too aggravated not to feed into it, I motioned to the stage. “Do you really think any of these girls like this?”
He jeered at the half-naked dancer. “It’s a job, and not a very difficult one.”
I shook my head in disgust. “You think no one sees what you do? The way you and Sienna play them? Offer the girls the easy stuff like weed or hash because it doesn’t interfere with productivity. Then when that isn’t enough to make getting naked for a bunch of horny assholes tolerable, you up the ante and get them addicted to the hard shit until they don’t have a choice but to solicit to pay for the habit.”
Damen’s expression hardened. “Like I said, no one forces the girls to do anything they don’t want to.”
“Is that what you and Sienna tell yourselves so you can sleep at night?”
Damen only provided enough product to keep the dancer sedate and in debt. Invariably tips from dancing wouldn’t cover the cost, and Sienna would suggest other ways to pay down the money they owed. And thus began the endless loop. She knew damn well the damage it did, but she condoned it, even benefited from it.
Back when I was working for Damen at Art Addicts, she was under his thumb as well. Before Sienna took over The Dollhouse, she danced there. Every so often she would leave the club and try something else, like bartending or whatever, but the money wasn’t good enough and she always came back. No matter how hard she tried to get clean, she never stayed that way.
When the club switched hands, Sienna got involved with the new owner, which was a smart move on her part. It gave her access to a lot of opportunities. There were some interesting rumors about how she ended up managing the club after he went to jail for assault and battery, but none of it really mattered. From the look of it, the move from dancer to desk job hadn’t changed how she lived. She was just as messed up now as she was when I met her.
Damen was still yammering away, talking at me again, like I cared about what he had to say. “There was a time when you took full advantage of the range of services provided here, Hayden. You could have unlimited access again if you wanted it.”
“I think I’m past the point of needing your kind of services, thanks.” I polished off the rest of my beer, ready to call it a night. I’d had about as much of Damen as I could handle.
“You’re sure about that? Looks like you’re running out of room to put your baggage, son.” He aimed a pointed glance at my arms.
I fought to keep a lid on the sudden rush of anger he inspired. I hated it when he called me “son.” No one would ever replace my father, especially not a dickhead like him.
I ignored the comment and turned to Chris. “I’m gonna split. You’ve got five minutes if you want a ride home.”
“Ah, come on H, don’t bail.”
Chris always tried to keep the peace between us. He still felt like he owed some allegiance to Damen. I sure as hell didn’t. I shoved my chair back and stood up. Our waitress was at the table before I could blink. Sienna already had her well trained.
I palmed my wallet, and Damen put up his hand. “I’ll get her for you.”
“I can pay my own way.” I pulled a hundred out and passed it to Sarah. She took the money and looked from me to Damen and back again, panic flaring in her eyes, like she thought something more was expected of her.
“That’s for the drinks. Consider the rest a tip for having to deal with those assholes.” I waved in Chris and Damen’s general direction. “I’ll be in the car. I’m gone in five.”
I stepped around a stunned-looking Sarah. It never took long for the girls to break and succumb to the harsh realities of the business they were in. Maybe Sarah would be different, but I had my doubts. Lisa was pretty messed up when Jamie got her out of The Dollhouse and brought her with us to Inked Armor. I thought he was crazy at the time, but he was in love with her even then. It took months of detox before she began to function again, as normally as was possible. People like Lisa weren’t cut out for that kind of life.
My memories of that time were spotty at best. It was probably better that way. Many of my least shining moments took place in a cloud of self-medication. Thankfully, Jamie was a good friend and a patient man. While he dealt with Lisa, I recovered from my own trip into the narcotic abyss thanks to Damen’s constant supply. Getting away from him had been paramount to my survival. I wasn’t in nearly as bad shape as Lisa, who popped every kind of pill imaginable, but I wasn’t a pleasure to hang out with during that time. Coming out of a coke coma was like shining high beams on all the things I couldn’t take back. Even though Chris still made choices I couldn’t understand, he had been and still was a loyal friend. Sometimes his version of help did more harm than good, but he always had the best intentions.
Outside the club, the cool air helped to calm the anger still burning through me. I didn’t get far before the door behind me opened, followed by the clip of high heels on the pavement.
I stopped, head dropping. Of course. My night wouldn’t be a complete wash unless I had an altercation with Sienna. Like most of my extracurricular activities back then, Sienna had started out as a one-time deal. I’d been in the middle of putting a tattoo on her, which had required multiple sessions, when my hormones had taken over. Barely twenty, I had been sucked in by the promise of sex with no boundaries. I’d stupidly indulged in several encores. That hadn’t gone well, especially since I hadn’t been the only person involved with her. Sometimes Chris didn’t check in with his brain before he used his dick. When I’d taken a hiatus from Sienna he got in on the action. More than once.
I didn’t share well, even when I wasn’t all that invested in what it was I was sharing. It was more about the betrayal than the woman, and it almost ruined our friendship. Sienna was a good example of when not to mix business and pleasure. Subsequently, she became the reason for the rule when we opened Inked Armor. Unfortunately, putting it into practice where she was concerned hadn’t been easy.
“Leaving without saying hello?” Sienna threw her arms around me.
I had the forethought to turn my head to the side just in time for her lips to collide with my neck. Her hands immediately found the bottom of my shirt and went under and up. Sharp nails scratched all the way back down. I grabbed her wrists before she went any lower.