The club was dark and dingy, but it had a unique liveliness to it. Shayla sat at a wall booth on tattered, red leather. It was close enough to see the stage without craning your neck, but far enough away that she wouldn’t be pressured to tip.

A young waiter stopped at her table, “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure,” she said, “How about two strawberry daiquiris?”

He gave her a confused look.

“I’m meeting someone here,” she assured him, “She’s on her way.”

“Alright,” he said, “I’ll be back in a sec.”

He returned with the drinks a few minutes later. Shayla sipped on her drink and checked her phone every five seconds. Grace hadn’t texted her back in an hour. Her last message promised that she was on the bus heading there, but there had been no updates since. Soon, the lights on the stage danced around the room and the dancers came out one by one. Kandy was somewhere in the middle of the lineup. She was a young girl. She was dazzling and a very talented dancer.

Grace was still MIA as the dancers finished their final routine. Shayla swore under her breath.

“Everything okay?” the waiter asked.

“Yeah,” she said, “Is there some kind of meet and greet or something? I’d like a private lap dance from, what’s her name, Kandy.”

“You’ll have to get a VIP pass. I can hook you up,” he said.

“That would be great,” she said, “How much do I owe you?”

“This one’s on me,” he said, “I feel bad cause you got stood up.”

“Oh,” she looked at the full glass in front of her, “Yeah.”

“Meet me out back in five,” he said.

He left and Shayla found the back door. It opened to an alley next to a dumpster. She took in the fresh night air. It was a drastic change from the stuffiness of the inside. A door on the other side of the dumpster opened and closed. Shayla couldn’t see who it was, but she could hear several voices.

“She’s perfect,” one man said, “Absolutely gorgeous.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” another man said, “She’s one of my best.”

“Here’s what I owe you,” the first man said.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” the second man said, “Now, Kandy’s gotta go give a couple lap dances, then she’s all yours.”

“Excellent,” the buyer said, “I’ll see you later, beautiful.”

The door opened and shut again. Shayla didn’t realize that she had been holding her breath and began panting.

“Are you okay?” the waiter asked.

Shayla nodded and cleared her throat, “You got the pass?”

“Yeah,” he said, “Give me your wrist.”

She held out her arm and the waiter wrapped a green admission bracelet around her wrist.

“Thank you,” she said.

“No problem,” he smiled, “Have a good time.”

She went back inside, ordered a peach and a strawberry daquiri, and dumped the contents of the vial into the strawberry one. It was then that she noticed the stairway next to the stage. It had to be up there. Shayla climbed the stairs and followed the balconied hallway to a door guarded by a large man. She showed him her wristband and he opened the door behind him. It was hazy with smoke inside. There was a wall of small tables with a chair on either side of each.

“Welcome,” the same voice as the pimp outside said, “Pick your poison.”

“I think her name was Kandy,” Shayla coughed.

He whistled, “Kandy, you have a customer.”

“Over here,” Kandy beckoned her to a table in the corner.

“I got you a drink,” Shayla handed her the strawberry daquiri.

“Oh, my God,” she snatched it out of her hands and chugged it, “You’re a lifesaver. I’m dying.”

Yes, Shayla thought, you are now.

“You know what,” Shayla said, “I don’t need a lap dance, but I’ll pay you for your trouble.”

Kandy looked at the stack of cash in Shayla’s hand, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, “I should probably call my girlfriend. She was supposed to meet me here, but she never showed up.”

“Thank you.”

Shayla left the VIP lounge and went out front. She opened her phone and called Grace.

“Hello,” a male voice answered.

“Hi?” she said, “Um… are you with Grace?”

“Who am I speaking to?”

“Her girlfriend, Shayla,” she said, “Who are you?”

“My name is Chase,” he took a breath, “I’m a nurse at the hospital. I’m afraid your girlfriend has been in an accident.”

“Oh my God. Is she okay?”

“She’s in the ICU,” he said, “You can come visit her. She should be waking up soon.”

“Okay,” Shayla’s voice cracked, “Thank you.”