Locke
Page 10

 Harper Sloan

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Everything and everyone I’ve ever touched has been ruined.  The evilness she embodies and the demons that have been nipping at my heels since I started walking have won.
With nothing left to give, I pick up the item on my lap and feel that hope inside me die a painful death.
Mason, with his arms around Mercedes, is the first thing I see in the close-up shot.  The second is the little baby in her arms.  The little baby that looks nothing like me.  Mason’s son.  I close my eyes and allow the only tear I’ll ever shed over my life to roll down my cheek.
Never again.  I will never allow myself to harm someone else.
I’m a broken man.
A broken man with black hole left where his heart used to be.
I’ll get past this, but I will never open myself up to this kind of pain again.
A blessed life is something I have never known, so I’m not sure why I ever hoped to feel its glory.
Chapter 5—Emmy—Past
Night after night, all I have is the stage, my spotlight, and Shawn.  Since the night he raped me in the back dressing room six months ago, things have gotten out of hand.  The Ram just looks past his rough hands, and Ivy thinks it’s just wonderful that I have such a strong and handsome man.  When I tried to tell her that that ‘strong and handsome man’ was raping her daughter daily, she laughed.  Told me that I needed to grow up and start learning how to please my man.
What the hell is wrong with these people?!
It will be over soon, I remind myself.  That’s the only thing that pushes me to keep going, to not give up.  I’ve saved every single dollar I’ve made at Syn.  Being the ‘Princess of Syn’ and knowing what the hell I’m doing when I take the stage have their benefits.  They toss money to me left and right.  I could leave tonight, but I want to get past this last weekend and get the high rollers who always hit Syn when it’s the end of the month.  Payday for most, and that’s when the biggest money gets tossed onto my stage.
“You’re up in ten, Rose!” Diamond yells as she rushes past me to go change, her huge, fake tits bouncing up and down.
The smell of her…arousal makes me gag.  I’ll never understand how she gets off stripping.  I guess, for her, it’s an exhibition type thing.  She loves being watched.  Not for me though.  I hate showing all these men my body.  That’s why I demand that the house lights get turned down and only a spotlight.  It shields them from me in a way.  I get up there and try to forget that I’m dancing naked for them.  I let the music take over my body.  At this point, it moves as if on autopilot.  I go out there, do what is expected of me, and then take my money and run.  Usually, I just run right into another piece of my hell.
Shawn.
Over the last month, he has become more and more violent, his hands leaving bruises against my arms and hips.  Recently, he’s left them around my neck, causing me to get creative with my makeup.  I stopped fighting him a while back—when it became clear that he got off on my struggles.  I have a feeling that his escalated roughness is because he wants me to fight.  I just don’t care anymore.  I’m so close to leaving that there isn’t much more he can do to damage me.
He’s already taken so much, and I refuse to give him my pride.  I’ll hold on to that until my dying breath.
It’s almost time.  I’ll escape this hell, and when I do, I’m never going to look back.
**
My music is just coming to the end.  I do my last rotation of the stage, making sure that my naked body is on display to every one of the men pulled up to the stage.  Their shouts are almost loud enough to drown out the beat of my music.
I let my legs go and drop to a split, my pussy hitting the stage, and then I silently say my nightly prayer that I don’t catch anything from the exposure.  Dropping onto my back, my legs spread, I throw my head back in a mock pose of ecstasy before dragging my hands from my ankles to rest at the apex of my legs.  Making sure all these idiots can see every bare inch of my sex.
The crowd goes electric.  Crossing my legs, I roll and get to my knees, where I continue to play with my body.  Seducing the crowd to give me every last dollar.
By the time the last note of my music hits my ears, the stage is so full of money that I can’t even see the black flooring through the cash.
My escape.
It is worth every second of the humility I just endured.
I collect the money and stuff it into the bucket that Pearl tosses my way.  Then she cleans off the pole as I finish cleaning my earnings off the stage.
“Thanks,” I pant as I rush past her.
I have about two minutes to dump this money into the safe I keep in my locker before Shawn finds me.  Not even giving a care to my nudity, especially since he will just pull anything I put on it my body off, I dump the bucket’s contents into my safe and slam it shut.
I just know that tonight is the night I get the hell out of here.
“Emersyn, Emersyn, Emersyn.  That was quite the show you put on tonight.  If I didn’t know better, I would think you actually enjoyed yourself out there.”  He comes up against my back.  The cheap fabric of his suit roughly rubs against my oiled skin.  “You going to fight me tonight, little Syn?” he rasps against my ear, biting my lobe.  He’s started asking this question each night he takes me.
And every night since, I’ve answered him the same way.
“In your dreams.”
“One day, Emersyn.  One day, when I have my ring on your finger and your dear old daddy gives me this club, you’re going to learn where your fucking place is.  Your fucking lippy mouth will only get you so far.  The Ram might put up with it, but I sure as hell won’t.”
He grips my arms and spins me before pushing me against the lockers.  The metal scrapes against my back, cutting it open in some spots, but I don’t make a sound.
“Get on your knees and suck my dick, bitch,” he demands.
I drop instantly, wondering in the back of my head if it’s still rape now that I’ve stopped fighting him.
It doesn’t take him long before he grabs both sides of my head and starts thrusting into my mouth with a bruising force.
“That’s right.  Take it all.  Take all of Daddy’s dick.”
God, how repulsive can he get?
I attempt to keep my mind from engaging.  I let my body take over and try to go to my happy place.  When his hand curls around my neck, it becomes obvious why he started this new game.  He wants my attention, and what a better way to get it than taking my air?