Blessed (gxg)✔️

8. Stickler For More

"You're okay my love," Shawnee mumbles, pulling me closer to her chest as I shake, cry and sweat from the dream I just woke up from. I nod and sniffle, trying to muffle the sound as she rubs my back and kisses my forehead.

I don't even mind her breath as I just accept her hugs and kisses. Our naked skin is touching while she comforts me and makes sure I'm okay.

Shawnee always knew when I was getting a beating because she could hear it from the thumps on the ceiling. But she could never do anything about it because everyone is so concerned with their own business and getting money.

Plus, we were kids. There wasn't much we could do. She could only make sure I could eat when we were at school or playing in the park. At least her addict of a mother never laid hands on her or Niquey over the years. I'm sure that woman loved Shawnee at some point in life before her life revolved around drugs instead.

Mine though... yeah, mine never loved me and she made sure I knew it every day. I was the reason she dropped out of school and was forced to be a cleaning lady for years. I was the reason her deadbeat boyfriends broke up with her because having kids is baggage even though they're the definition of baggage themselves. Everyday was spent trying not to make her more upset. Shawnee and Niquey were and are my light.

It was around when Niquey was born that I started staying more nights with Shawnee. We would both fall asleep on either side of Niquey, protecting her from falling off the bed and keeping her from crying. Even though my mother didn't want me around, she didn't like when I stayed at other people's places since it made it seem like she wasn't taking care of me. Which was true, but that wasn't the concern.

Either way, I got kicked out the moment I turned eighteen. By then, Niquey was already in foster care and Shawnee was in a gang. I didn't want to be a burden so I started working as a busboy in a random ihop. Using that experience, I started working as a busboy and kitchen staff in another restaurant - a fancier one- and learned a little more about cooking. I gained an interest but Shawnee and I had a plan. I couldn't focus solely on learning to cook over someone's shoulder, I needed money.

At nineteen, I started stripping and working clubs as table staff on the off days. Three jobs for four years straight with zero extra expenses left me with a lot of money that I've put away- partly in a safe and the other part into a bank account I opened at twenty.

Shawnee does her best and earns a lot from dealing but moving out of here is first on our list. The moment we move out into somewhere safer, the easier it'll be to show we're reliable enough to the adoption agency to get Niquey back. It's just harder to figure out how Shawnee is going to get out of the gang.

"love you," she whispers once more before I fall asleep again, calmer.

...
"You sure you don't want anything Tree?" Shawnee asks, rubbing my back as I lay on top of her on the couch.

We're watching some of our show but I'm not really paying attention. I'm just trying to relax before I have to go to the strip club later.

Shawnee has been carrying me everywhere, kissing up on me and cooking for me- which I appreciate. I'm just stressing since I hardly get any breaks. This is the first time I've truly relaxed in a while.

I hum and nod at her question, not feeling like talking.

"Okay..." a second passes. "You sure you sure?" I laugh and nod again.

"Yes Shawnee I'm okay, thank you." I reply, shifting around until her hands are on my ass since it's cold.

Our apartment barely has heating so winters are hell in here. It's not winter yet but a cold autumn is just as bad. Shawnee knows I love skin to skin though, so she's just in her sports bra and sweatpants while I'm in one of her old large tees and my panties.

She keeps me warm with her thumping heart and graceful hands that travel along my ass and thighs. Her movements comfort me, her care reassures me.

"Mhm," She looks down, lifting a hand to touch my chin, softly pulling me in for a kiss. "I'm right here if you need me." She ends with that same hand going behind her head to prop it up.

I just nod in response. I always need you.

———

"And next, give a warm welcome to Vixen!"

I walk out of the back, strutting. The sound of Pour it up by Rihanna playing in the background. My feet carefully step forward in my six inch heels. I grab the pole and dance to my song with the sound of older dudes whistling in the corner. There's also a group of men having a bachelor party for I'm getting more tips than usual with them tossing a few bills.

Doing my tricks, I use my strong core to hold my body up and turn around. Eventually my set is done and I'm back on the floor, giving dances to the bachelors and old guys. Soon, I'm called over to the dark corner of the club to the middle-aged white guy with silver hairs and a round face. I remind him of the dance prices as he leans back into the leather chair.

"I can tell you're not like the other girls. You're different." He whispers, keeping his hands on the arm rests. "I'm different too. I'm not like the other guys around here." He says as I slowly circle my hips over his lap.

"That's very nice." I respond, feigning interest. That fact that you're here is proof enough.

He smiles and fixes his tie. I see the shimmer of his gold wedding band as I raise my leg to put my foot on one of the arrests and roll my hips in the air. I internally groan as he keeps up with the usual nice guy shtick.

"You look young. I bet you're in college." Wrong.

"I am." I lie. "A writing major." I further the lie.

"So you're struggling to get by because your family is poor." Right.

"Mhm." I nod.

"I bet your family would hate to see you like this. They care so much about you." Wrong. Wrong.

"You don't have to do this, you know. You can make money in so many different ways. You deserve to be supported by a nice man." Partially right, partially wrong. These men tend to just have savior complexes so if I feed his ego, I'll get a big tip.

"I try."

"What's your name?"

"It's Vixen."

"No, your real name. You can trust me." He whispers when I lean down to rub my hands on his arms.

"Lisa." I lie once again.

"You don't look like a Lisa," he squints.

"Well I didn't choose it." I fake a laugh with him.

"That's true. I guess if you think about it, it suits you." He reaches into his pocket and the song comes to an end.

"That's time." I hold my hand out for my payment.

"You need a nice man like me to support you," he gives me the money for the dance. "Here's some extra.. Think about it.. Lisa," He says, dragging on the 'a', placing an extra two hundred in my hand.

"Thank you..." I smile while walking away. The moment I do, I drop my face and slide my money in my bra piece. I can't wait until my contract expires so I can properly leave this job without it coming back to bite me in the ass.