On the Sly: Chapter 12
Mack
I pulled away from her, shaking like I was having a seizure. The room was dark, and for a moment I only heard my own heavy breaths. I felt like I was drowning in black waters, unable to get back to the surface. Slowly and steadily I started recognising my bedroom, my clothes on the floor, and Claire. Sweat drenched my face; my T-shirt was stuck to my back. It was just a nightmare. I was dreaming about that day when Charlotte made a decision to leave Claire and check out that damned bungalow. I cursed a few times, trying to lift myself off the floor, desperate for more air.
Claire was lying on her back staring at me with shock and fear. She was so fucking pale.
“Are you okay? What happened?” I asked, not recognising my own voice. Cold chills shivered through me. Destructive images from the past flooded back into me, reminding me that I had no one in this world, that I was so fucking lost.
“You woke me up. I heard you screaming. I just came here to check on you, and when I shook you, I don’t know, you must’ve still been in your nightmare because you started choking me like you were trying to kill me.” She dragged herself back to a sitting position.
My body was shaking. Sweat, there was so much sweat covering me. I’d had nightmares before, nightmares about the day of the shooting, dreams about Charlotte burning alive, but this was one of the worst. I could have killed Claire. When I looked at my hands I was fucking shaking. Shit, I had to pull myself together.
“What the hell is happening to me?” I asked myself, hiding my face in my palms. I was dreaming about Lurkin fucking my wife, raping her, but he wasn’t there, he wasn’t involved, so why? Why him?
My subconscious had started playing tricks on me. The prick that had hurt her was a twisted son of a bitch. Lucky for him I had never laid my hands on him. I couldn’t keep reliving this. It was one poor judgment call, and she got trapped. Claire couldn’t help her, but she shouldn’t have let her go in on her own, no matter how safe it looked out there.
I was falling apart, slowly, and now it had gotten to the point where I couldn’t function.
“You dreamed about her, didn’t you?” Claire asked quietly, and moved towards me. “I heard her name a couple of times.” She grabbed my hand. I didn’t want to fight with her right now, in these early hours of the morning when I was a total wreck. There was no point in lying. She knew that I had never really come to terms with what happened. She knew that I never accepted that my wife had to die.
I nodded. “I was there with her when she was sneaking into that bungalow, when that scum was hurting her. His face … hell, his face, it turned into fucking Lurkin and I watched as he raped her and I was helpless, Claire! I couldn’t help Charlotte,” I roared and Claire squeezed my hand tighter, saying something to me. She was whispering calming words that were supposed to make me feel better.
“Don’t think about this,” she said. “That motherfucker was shot and now this whole thing is over; it has been for years. This operation is different. We are playing our parts. You’re dreaming about her because of stress and probably because we’re working together again.”
My muscles were tense and I couldn’t relax, but my breathing was slowing down. I needed Ellie now, not Claire. Ellie was the only woman that could wake me up from that nightmare. She could touch me and I would forget about my wounded soul.
I knew that it was impossible though. I couldn’t let myself believe she would be the answer to soothe the savage beast that screamed in my chest. She let me control her body and bring her pleasure and that was the only distraction that helped me forget the past, to lose the pain for that brief moment.
“I’m sorry … I’m sorry that I tried to hurt you. I think I’ll go outside to get some fresh air,” I said, pushing myself up on my feet. There was no way I could continue letting Claire see me like that, so fucked up. Fine, after years of struggling I accepted that I shouldn’t keep blaming her anymore, that I should let it go. They were partners and Charlotte trusted her. It wasn’t Claire’s decision, but my wife’s.
She couldn’t help her, she moved on, married a guy and now she was after a promotion. I was stuck in the cycle of taking assignment after assignment, hiding in my work. Not seeing my family, not caring for anything but feeding my psyche of my fucked up self, reliving my faults and mistakes—until that night with Ellie.
“Maybe you should talk to someone, Tobias, a doctor. You know that there is a suppo–”
“I’ll take care of this by myself, once I see Lurkin behind bars.”
“Tobias, I’m not your enemy. We are in this together,” she reminded me.
“I know, Claire. I realise that, but I’m fed up sitting around and waiting. I’ll be right back,” I called to her and left the bedroom. My legs were shaking; my hands, everything felt like I was in someone else’s body.
I was a wreck. Maybe Claire was right; maybe I needed to see a shrink. Charlotte didn’t enjoy being dominated in the bedroom and I accepted it. Back then, I was happy, satisfied with the love that we felt for each other. When she died I became a different man.
Ellie had agreed and she was a willing participant. It took only a second to realise that she wasn’t like anyone else. Sex with her kept the demons at bay. She was a woman that I took advantage of, a woman that shouldn’t have crossed my path.
I put my jacket on and slid through the door, trying to calm down. My head was spinning. Thoughts and memories were punishing me and I wanted to bury myself in her, forgetting about my responsibilities and the criminals that were out there.
It was dawn, just after 5:00 a.m. as I walked to the front, trying to catch the first glimpses of the sunrise. I took out my phone and scrolled through my contacts. Dad was up, despite the early hour. He wasn’t a very good sleeper, since Mum had passed away.
“Tobias, is that you?” Dad asked when he picked up the phone. He had the tendency to always make sure he knew who he was speaking with.
“Yes, Dad, it’s me. I’m in Scotland, near Edinburgh,” I explained, feeling utterly drained. I should have made this phone call sooner. My sister had been looking after him for a while now, but Dad missed me a hell of a lot. I always made excuses not to come home, blaming work for lack of time. This had been the longest time away from home since I started this job.
“Does that mean you will be home soon, Son?” he asked, sounding hopeful.
“Possibly, but I’m not done with this case yet. This is my last operation. I think I’m done with this lifestyle,” I groaned into the phone, wondering if Ellie would agree to move away with me. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, but she was perfect for me and we both wanted the same thing: acceptance. Love—maybe this was too much to ask, but friendship and sex. Yes, that was more than we both asked for.
“What’s changed? Have you met someone?”
“Claire is here with me. We are working together again. After three years,” I explained.
“You’re avoiding the question, Son. Rita misses you and so do the kids. If there is someone there that can heal-–”
“No one can heal me, Dad. You know that, but this woman. She doesn’t know who I am. It’s so damned complicated.”
“You will find a way. Before Charlotte you always knew what to do. I would like to meet the woman that has you in knots, so bear that in mind, Tobias.” Dad chuckled, pushing me to the edge. Of course, in normal relationships people go for family dinners and stuff like that, but this wasn’t a normal situation.
I had a long way to go before I could approach something like that. Dad gave me some updates about Rita and the kids. I fucking missed them, but I had unfinished business here. I couldn’t just abandon this operation.
Ellie
Last night I was quite shaken by the whole conversation between Adrian and some other guy. Maybe it was a good thing that I didn’t go out with him on a proper date. Mack had warned me, but how did he know that Adrian wasn’t just an ordinary businessman?
Nathan had to come over to remind me that I had to get out on the stage eventually. I was so distracted that I had completely forgotten that I had to perform. I picked up a red slutty thing, which was supposed to be a costume, and I headed out on the stage. I met a few strippers that paraded around the changing room topless; some of them knew how to seduce men until they threw money at them. The whole thing went so fast that I didn’t have a chance to talk to anyone. I danced, using the routines that I knew, and all the men seemed to love it.
Then on Sunday I was resting, trying to research more about that mysterious guy, Johnny Hodges, hoping a search of social media might bear some fruit. I heard Mack and Claire in the corridor arguing that he hadn’t found a job yet. They were loud, but my heart stuttered every time I heard his voice. He had this strange paralysing effect on me that clouded my better judgment.
Monday was uneventful, and on Tuesday morning I overheard Jordan talking about the club again with Phil. He thought that there was something going on up there. Well, too bad. I was sitting quietly minding my own business knowing that sooner or later I would have a story. I’d tried to talk to Phil about it, but as usual he didn’t care about opinions. To him I was still just a pretty face with great legs.
I’d been anxious during my performance at the club, thinking that maybe men would recognise me from the papers. I knew it was silly, but I couldn’t let my father know what I was doing. He had frequently reminded me of the disappointment I was to him, and I had to be careful. Dad probably still wanted to keep an eye on me, so he would be ready to humiliate me when I messed up again. I hated the way he wanted to control everyone.
By lunchtime I was so distracted that I decided to get some fresh air. I still had no idea what to do with this new information. If Adrian was really a dangerous drug supplier, then I had an even bigger story than I realised. I had to be sure, which meant I needed to start hunting for real evidence.
In the coffee shop while I was eating a baguette, I got a text from the club, asking me to be there tonight. I was ready to text back that I wasn’t available, but after thinking about it for some time, I decided to go. This was my opportunity. I needed to talk to the other girls, find out if they at least suspected what was going on.
After weeks of not hearing from anyone, I was still waiting for any kind of contact from my friends. I still considered them my good friends. Dad was probably too busy to care if I was still alive or not. It was like my other life had never existed before and now I was no one.
Shivers crawled over my spine when I thought about Mack and Adrian. I considered telling him about what I had overheard, but I kind of already knew what he would say.
I quickly changed into jeans, put an old hoodie on, and drove to the club. I worried that this was getting out of control. I wasn’t a stripper. I would be all right as long as Nathan respected that.
If anyone recognised me now, anyone from the media or my old crew, then I wouldn’t have a shitty job to go back to. I would have nothing left in my life. I was determined to get this story to prove my self-worth to the world, to myself, and to my Dad. My father had defended murderers, gangsters, people involved in sex crimes, and other clients that no other solicitor wanted to represent, and he was still loved and revered for his ability. I was just his spoiled, crappy daughter that broke a perfectly loving happy family.
I wanted to have this all behind me, but I never thought that starting over somewhere else was going to be this hard.
When I arrived at the club, I decided there was no point dwelling on what I had done. I fucked a married man, broke his happy family, and now I was just paying for it. I did say I believed in karma.
At the door I nearly crashed into Nathan, who looked stressed.
“Right, you’re finally here. I need you in one of the private rooms,” he said, running his hand through his hair.
“Private rooms?” I questioned, getting a bad feeling about this.
“We have certain clients that want a private performance. It’s absolute havoc in here. I need you to cover for me,” he explained.
“All right. I can dance, but I’m not stripping,” I stated.
“What?” Nathan heaved a sighed. “It’s a strip club, Bella. Everyone strips here, but fair enough. This client wasn’t specific; he just wanted to see someone on the pole in some kind of mask.”
“Mask?” I questioned him.
“Yeah, he wants you to cover your face. Come on … don’t look at me like that. I’m just the messenger; Hugh is paying my wage too.”
“But what if he asks me to, you know … to strip?” I whispered. What the hell was I thinking, getting a job in a strip club and expecting not to take my clothes off?
Nathan smiled confidently, trying to hide his exhaustion.
“You will be behind glass, so don’t stress. Prude pole dancer. Who would have thought it?” He laughed, shaking his head. He took me to the changing room and one of the girls showed me the free lockers. I made a mental note to speak to her after this whole thing was over.
I changed into a long see-though black silky dress and put a sparkly mask on. I noticed that many strippers were dressed up in all sorts of costumes, so I wasn’t the only one. My legs were a bit shaky when Joan left me by the entrance, telling me that I was going to be all right.
I went inside the stage enclosure and hopped on the pole, knowing that I needed to get a grip and just get on with it. The space was large enough to dance but only just. I glanced at my client, ready to give him my flirtatious smile, but then I froze. The man behind the glass door wasn’t just an ordinary client. I was staring straight at Andrew. The guy who had ripped my heart out of my chest, then stamped on it whilst ruining my reputation and my life.