His Saint || Murphy Macmanus

ɪ. ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ

The world is a chaotic, stressful, and downright evil place. Ariana Jacobs knew this fact since she was a little girl. She was taught to trust no one but family. Trust only the words of her father; For other men and women will lie between their teeth to get what they want. Killing others to set themselves free from fear and hardship. And at times, as the saying goes, either kill or be killed. Take this chaotic asshole of a world by the balls and squeeze them tight. Never allow others to cause confusion to get what they want.

Ariana thought of this every day. Including, today. She questions her father's words in silence, finding it to be ironic. Cowardice. Why kill others for the sake of saving your skin? And what kind of philosophy is that? Hypocrisy, that's what her father taught her.

"Ari, " A redhead stood in front of the bar with raised brows. She wore a skimpy dress, allowing the top of her breast to exaggeratedly pop out. With her well-manicured hands resting on the counter space of the bar, she chewed on her piece of bubble gum slowly. "Table 4 wants ten shots of pure vodka. Think you can handle that?"

Ariana gripped the damp rag between her hands. She gave her coworker a look, blinking the harsh thoughts away. Realizing she had been wiping down the same area for over three minutes.

"Yeah.." Ariana shook her head, reaching underneath the bar to gather ten shot glasses. "Sorry, Irene. I'm still under the weather, you know. This damn cold." Letting out a nervous chuckle, Ariana scooped up a large bottle of vodka from the fancy shelf behind her, carefully pouring the clear liquid into each small glass.

Irene tilts her head ever so slightly, leaning forward to get a better look at her coworker and short-time friend.

"Are you pregnant?" Irene questions, cupping her hands together.

Ariana straightened the bottle, ceasing the gathering of shots. Her eyes grew and her mouth opened into a slit. Irene was the type to say whatever she wanted and did not give a damn how anybody felt. That was just crazy old Irene. Ariana should have known Irene would speculate something so insane.

"No. No, " Ariana scoffs, continuing the vodka session. "Fuck no..."

Irene smirks, standing back straight on her high heeled pumps. She placed one hand onto her curvy hip, tapping the tips of her red nails against the bartop. "Sweety, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself that you're not."

"Because I'm not!" Ariana scoffs, slamming the vodka bottle back down on the shelf.

"Sure. See you tonight at Rocco's party?" Irene says dreamily, thinking of the man she was falling in love with. Changing the subject altogether. Not that Ariana was complaining.

"Yeah -" Ariana sat each shot glass perfectly onto a round black tray. She then notices Irene moving towards her regular customer. "Aren't you going to take these to table 4?"

Irene shrugs one shoulder, pulling down the front of her dress to reveal more cleavage. "They wanted you to send them out. Says they like the little black girl behind the bar better." Irene explains, winking before moving towards her moneymaker.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Ariana tugged on the tray to the edge of the counter. Slipping her other hand underneath the tray, she steps from behind the bar with the back of the tray balanced in her palm. With each step, she motivates herself to fix her mood and face. This is a strip club after all. Her job is to keep the sleazy men within happy and comfortable. Ariana loved her job, there was no doubt about that, but today wasn't quite right. Her stomach twisted into knots since clocking in five hours ago.

Ariana loosens her shoulders whilst walking past the center stage where a well known and popular dancer named Lilith commenced her routine. Men sat at the edge of the stage, hollering at the beautiful woman with lustful encouragement. Large speakers thump the bass of exotic music making it difficult for Ariana to even hear her thoughts.