Renee 3 Page 8

  “Get the fuck out,” he ordered. All Calloway visualized was Dane directing her to him. How she did it, he had no idea.

  Thinking where he’d dump Renee’s body, Calloway felt the tip of a cold gun pressed against the side of his temple. He didn’t bother extracting his attention from Renee. Only one person was crazy enough to point a gun on him for a woman who ostracized him.

  Renee smiled. The sight of Jared once again coming to her rescue confirmed she made the right move. Although it was hard to do, Calloway lowered his weapon.

  Renee cleared her throat. “Business between Dane and me has been dismantled. I don’t know what this is”—Renee’s finger darted from one man to the other—“and I don’t care, but it all changes now. I take it that you two now work for Zeke, which means you now work for me. So do what you do best, and keep me more untouchable than ever before.”

  Chapter 12

  Cigarette smoke, perfume, and liquor swam through the atmosphere and created an unbearable stench that came across as stale and toxic. The loud music vibrating through the walls and floorboards was deafening and kept everyone stuck in a trance. Curls overlapped one another and bounced in the air as Madison walked off the stage. Her chest heaved in and out from the fast-paced song she was forced to keep up with in six-inch heels. Sweat dripped off her body and landed on the floor, mixing with the perspiration left behind by the last few dancers.

  Sitting at her vanity table, Madison grabbed a package of baby wipes out of the top drawer and wiped down her face and underarms. Madison found a large piece of the mirror that hadn’t been cracked and tidied herself up in it. A skinny brunette girl with freckles thrown on her cheeks flopped down at the vanity table beside her. Out of breath, she snatched off her top.

  “Why do you insist on not using that shower? You’re the only one allowed to use it, so you might as well stop trying to be like the rest of us.”

  Every time Nancy saw Madison, she reminded her that she was different and that the only reason she sat in the same boat as them was because she chose to.

  “I step foot in that shower and that motherfucker Harry will think he owns me.”

  Madison tossed the used baby wipe in the trash and reapplied her lipstick and eyeliner. Her individuality shone through and, on countless occasions, made people question her attendance in such a place. Her boss, Harry, did whatever it took to keep her around and content. As the oldest dancer, she was the club’s main attraction and had made a name for the place. This was all made possible when the club’s top dancers left to work at a new high-tech club blocks away.

  “Shit, then he can own me, because I’m trying to wash my ass right, and I’m not talking about these damn ho baths we’ve been doing.”

  Madison laughed. Nancy’s foul mouth and outspoken personality made stripping easier. It made her feel like she was living a life where she was welcomed by her parents and stripped of her feelings of abandonment and depression, a life that wasn’t a nightmare taking place in a strip club. Under the table, she played a game she called “break free.” She struggled to pull the heel of her shoe from the sticky floor. Wasted liquor. Oftentimes, she too would indulge in drinking and getting high, but tonight she decided to let go of her drug dependency.

  Nancy watched five girls with dark liquor filled to the brim of plastic cups blocking the door’s entrance from her seat. Half of the club’s employees occupied the makeup and locker room. A number of women scrambled to prepare their looks for their next set, while others took a breather and had idle conversations. Missing floor panels, locker doors hanging off their hinges, and cushions from inside the seats seeping out reminded the women there was no place like home and that they shouldn’t be there to begin with. Nancy shook her head and sucked her teeth at the sight of the women. She wished one of them would ask what she was looking at just so she could tell them off.

  “I can’t stand those broads. Why the fuck didn’t you beat their asses when they cracked your mirror?” Nancy inquired.

  Like Madison, Nancy was intelligent and once had a bright future ahead of her. However, that changed the night of her best friend’s bachelorette party. The group of friends celebrating their childhood friend jumping the broom had stumbled into the strip club Nancy now sat in, drunk and full of energy. It didn’t matter that the club only employed female strippers. They wanted to party, and since they walked in on amateurs night, Nancy hit the stage. She did it as a joke, but the more she danced to the music, the more fun it became. There were four other girls who participated in the competition, and although they received lots of cheers, Nancy took home the crown.

  Her performance stuck with her well after that night. She viewed dancing on stage in front of a crowd as a breath of fresh air. Weeks after her performance, she made her way back to the club, this time sober and determined to become a stripper. Once she was hired, she quit school and her internship at a brokerage firm. She took to the stage every night in search of the same limelight and energy it had given her the very first night she stepped foot in front of the crowd. Things looked good the first few months in the business, but slowly the fast-paced life caught up with her and took a toll on her looks. After years of being in the club, her weight had plummeted, and makeup had become her best friend. She’d use it on the regular to cover up her scabby skin and bags beneath her eyes. When you were no longer the new girl in town, the money started to slow, and when the money slowed, additional shifts were taken at a place that ate away at your soul.

  Giving herself one last look over, Madison replied to her question. “They want to shake me and throw me off. I can’t let them.” Madison faced Nancy. “I’ll get them back. I just wish I knew how.”

  Madison’s lack of struggling in the club compared to her coworkers made them set out to take her down. Longevity and constant signs of approval weren’t seen much in their line of work, so the lack of positivity coming their way made Madison a target. The girls took trying to damage Madison to new heights. Paying customers to rape her, setting the new girls up to steal from her, and sabotaging her sets were some of their futile attempts. Each and every action failed, making their need to take Madison’s place as top dancer greater.

  Little did they know, Madison didn’t have an easy life. She had a miserable one. The misery she encountered tore her down and ripped her apart, the perfect stripper name for a woman willing to flaunt her truth instead of sexuality. Madison’s dysfunctional, selfish family transformed her into a depressed soul with low self-esteem and hungry for love. These toxic emotions landed her in strip clubs, which only deepened the dark hole in her heart and nurtured her misery. Although Madison had already felt disconnected from her kinfolk, it came full circle after everyone learned of her stripping ways. Stripping tore her family apart and left her not being spoken to for years. It wasn’t until recently that she reconnected with her closest family members.

  Growing up, she watched her parents and sister come and go while playing house. It took a toll on her and filled her with resentment and loneliness only the presence of her immediate family could cure. Although she saw them from time to time, she felt disconnected and isolated from them. They were not a family. They were cousins who lived out of town and came in to visit for the holidays. She’d known about her father’s other family. Renee was a part that stuck with Madison since childhood. It devoured her self-worth and made her feel looked over twice in one life.

  Her coworkers laughed loudly, causing Madison to turn their way and watch them smile nonstop. Right after one of the girls saw Madison looking, a domino effect began, and each girl looked Madison’s way. A wave of eye-rolling and snarls followed one behind the other.

  “I just wish I knew how,” Madison repeated. “I really do.”

  * * *

  At one a.m. Madison finished greeting customers she’d catered to throughout the years. She sat at the bar, watching one of the dancers who despised her trying to mimic one of her dance routines. She was so off beat and missed several steps.
So Madison just sat back and watched the patrons who knew what she was trying to do ignore the set, which entertained Madison to the max. She and the bartender exchanged hellos before he handed her a glass of water garnished with a lemon slice.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you, Russell, what made you leave your last job?”

  “My boss. His bitch ass would sell his soul for a dollar,” Russell spat angrily.

  Madison nodded her head while squeezing the lemon into her H2O. “I hear you, but keep your dick to yourself. I know about you burning chicks over there, so don’t bring that shit over here.”

  Embarrassed, Russell looked away and started scratching his upper arm. “Man, I’m good, I got my shot.”

  “Ummm hmm,” Madison hummed. That place was already flying with sexually transmitted diseases, and every day she stepped foot through that door, she made sure to bob and weave. The last thing any of them needed was another disease in there.

  The front door opened, and suddenly a number of girls rushed out on the floor from the back rooms. Curious as to what man the girls identified as moneybags, Madison took a look. Quickly, after laying eyes on the man and his goon, she shook her head. Zeke pulled up a barstool next to Madison, and nerves the size of boulders filled the environment.

  “What up, Maddy?” Zeke threw his hands in front of him and folded them. He tried not to give away his nervousness, but his bouncing leg took away that option.

  “What do you want?” Madison asked, annoyed.

  “You didn’t come to the house last night.”

  “I was busy,” she replied.

  “There’s something you need to know. Can you step out for a moment? But first . . .” Zeke looked Madison over. He respected his older cousin more than anyone else in the world, so he asked, “Can you put some clothes on?”

  Madison noticed the judgmental expression thrown on her from her cousin and laughed. “No,” she replied simply.

  Zeke got Russell’s attention and ordered a beer. Workers at the club watched from afar, unaware of their gene pool and believing Madison was on the road to big tips. They became infuriated, and their jealousy heightened.

  Zeke drank his beer and fought to find the right words. Talking to Madison used to be so easy. Growing up, he looked up to her, and instead of telling people they were cousins, they used to claim they were siblings. She was fun and smart. But all of that changed when depression devoured her, and her dream of becoming a counselor went out the window. Her behavior caused her family to exile her, and Zeke wished he could turn back the hands of time, but they had to abandon her. Watching her spiral out of control was not an option. Finishing his alcoholic drink, Zeke mustered up the courage to tell her what he needed to until he was interrupted.

  Stacy, a DJ turned stripper, strolled up to Zeke. She wrapped her arms around his neck and walked in between his legs. “This strip club is not for conversing, Z. How about we go to the back?” Stacy’s head tilted to the left, and her high hair bun followed suit.

  Zeke roughly removed her arms. The force caused pain to shoot through her arms. His lackey ran to her and hauled her away. Irritation filled the stress lines on Zeke’s face due to the large man’s slow reaction. Annoyed and now ready for the conversation to transpire, Zeke spoke.

  “Madison, Raquel was found in her office yesterday. She was stabbed in the stomach and shot in the head.” Finally saying what needed to be said, Zeke waited for Madison’s response.

  She looked at him, then at all the furniture and people occupying the building. While examining her surroundings, she tapped her fingernails on the bar counter. Seconds later, she slammed both her palms down on the wooden counter and stood up as the last of her sanity withered away and imploded within her. It didn’t matter if she felt nothing for her mother. A piece inside of her, a small piece, still believed her relationship with Raquel would have one day made sense. She grabbed the empty glass in front of her and threw it against the bar, her hope for fixing her relationship with her mother shattered.

  Chapter 13

  From a distance, Madison watched her mother’s burial transpire. It was as if time were repeating itself, and the same crippling pain over losing her father slid its existence into the present. Leaning against a tree whose roots had clung to the dirt for many years, Madison dropped a cigarette at its trunk and put it out with the toe of her shoe.

  The night Madison found out about Raquel’s death, she cried the life out of her body, then fell deeper into the depression she had spent years trying to climb out of. She considered herself foolish for sobbing. Raquel had never been a motherly figure, nurturer, or played any significant role in her life. Yet she was still her mother. Madison remained hidden behind a tree, staring at Carmen.

  Carmen never contacted Madison to inform her of their mother’s passing. She knew her younger sister made it her business to find out her whereabouts, but she never reached out nor tried mending the gap their parents had built. Unknowingly, Madison continued to bury her shoe into the dirt. Her heart raced and her chest heaved at the sight of her sister.

  Carmen stood numb and in complete shock while observing the hole her mother was being placed in. Beside her was Zeke, and behind them, his parents. Carmen was receiving the support and condolences that should have been Madison’s. The dark time turned Madison’s stomach and caused dizziness to conquer her vision.

  By the looks of her wardrobe, Carmen was well taken care of and without the need of a pole to pay her way. Carmen’s tear-streaked face and cracked voice expressed the agony stampeding through her heart. Raquel was actually a decent mother to her, and from a distance, it was obvious. Madison couldn’t blame Carmen for following her mother’s lead as a child, but as an adult, Carmen was held responsible for her actions. Madison didn’t know what it was, why she wasn’t wanted or granted entrance into the club she was born into. A large wave of sobs snaked through a line of people, and that was when Madison noticed her stained shoes. Lifting them out of the dirt with her bare hand, she wiped them off and wished she’d never come.

  Concealed in the shadows provided by a mausoleum, Dane observed the service given by Carmen and her loved ones. Standing with Julian, Dane had a perfect view of Carmen shedding tears and searching for the strength to keep herself standing. Ever since Renee’s exit from their lives, Julian and Dane fed off each other’s energy and worked toward Carmen’s kill. Seeing Carmen alive and standing in a place where respect was paid to the departed and tears watered the grass over decaying carcasses enraged Julian and drove the need to kill her twice as much.

  “Let me fire the first bullet,” he declared. “You missed your chance. You staked out her apartment for days and she never surfaced.”

  “We talked about this,” she reminded Julian.

  “I know, but all I want is the first shot. You can finish her, but give me the first shot.”

  Dane and Julian both knew it took only one bullet to end someone’s life. One accurate hit puncturing a major artery could rob Dane of her revenge and send her soul lingering in limbo forever. She was lost in Carmen’s face. The face that ended relationships, tore apart alliances, and murdered innocent people infuriated Dane just by still being alive. She thought of the accomplishments and success mapped out for her sister, and her heart began to cry. The fairy-tale life meant for Reagan was gone.

  “No,” she replied.

  Emotionless, rebellious, and with every intention of numbing her pain, Dane pulled her gun from its holster and wrapped her finger around the trigger. She walked toward Carmen, firing off several shots. Guests quickly dispersed and separated themselves from the anarchy. Like a sitting duck open to danger, Carmen widened her eyes once she laid eyes on Dane. Fear struck, and her body stiffened, bullets seconds away from entering her chest, when Zeke pushed Carmen out of the way. Zeke’s act of heroism left the bullets no choice but to strike Prue, who stood frozen behind Carmen. Prue’s body crumpled, the small cannonball stealing her life within minutes.

  Falli
ng, Prue’s dead weight vibrated the ground Zeke and Carmen lay on. Zeke looked at his mother, her eyes telling him goodbye before he could assist her. Seeing Prue take her last breath caused Zeke’s heart to drop and breathing to cease. Staring at his mother’s corpse took his soul away.

  From a small opening beneath Zeke’s body, Carmen lay still and allowed Zeke to act as her human shield. Peeking out from underneath, Carmen saw Dane racing their way. Quickly, she patted Zeke down and relieved him of his gun.

  Feeling his Siamese twin separate from him, Zeke looked at his cousin, whose eyes directed him to the madwoman seconds away. Without giving it any more thought, Zeke rolled off Carmen.

  Free and able to move without restriction, Carmen aimed the gun up at Dane, who was now positioned in front of her. Both women’s fingers went to pull their triggers, but only one manicured nail fired bullets.

  Cradling his wife’s dead body and shaking while both their hands pressed against the hole in her chest, Roy jumped at the sounds of three gunshots erupting inches from him. Needing his curiosity to be quelled, he saw Dane on her back. Her body was still as Carmen retreated. Roy finally took his sight off the scene when he felt his son pulling at his arm, telling him, “We have to go.”

  Chapter 14

  Working with Jared again brought back a sense of normalcy Renee missed, but she would not admit that out loud. Dane and Metro had plucked out a part of her she spent years developing, and now it was growing back due to the company of a psycho. Her fog-covered mirror was clearing, and she could see herself again climbing to the top without an ounce of rest, fulfilling her zodiac sign as a Capricorn. Life was good, but it wasn’t perfect. The cloud in her summer meadow sat in her home on guard and untrusting of her intentions.