THE CLUB OWNER AND HIS STRIPPER
"Sir, this is inappropriate and I'm sure you're aware of that. You're my boss."
His tall frame stood up and he slowly strode over to me with a lustful glint in his eyes. His hand lifted and his thumb ran across my low...
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My eyebrows pushed together in confusion, a random man stood at the bottom of the staircase.
He was large, broad shoulders and tall. He looked scary. His cheekbones were prominent, and his eyebrows were thick and dark. He was talking to my mother, yet I couldn't hear what he was saying. His hand reached my mothers waist, and she looked up at him with a look I've never seen on her before.
I quietly stepped away from the railing and peeked through my fathers bedroom door, only to be revealed with him sat in the edge of his bed. "Dad?" I whispered.
His eyes flew to mine and his eyebrows creased in confusion at my silent tone. "Yeah, buddy? What's up?" He stood up and set his phone down onto the bedside table.
"Who's that man?" I tried to keep quiet, as the door was only meters away from the top of the stairs.
"What man?" He asked, whilst walking over. He stepped out of his bedroom and looked over the railing with me, down at the man who kept talking to my mother. His eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed my wrist to pull me with him into his bedroom.
"Dad? Who is he?" I watched as he abruptly shut his door and locked it.
"Get in the bathroom, son. Now." He pointed to the bathroom door, searching through the room for something. When I didn't move, he turned to me, "Now, Clay! Go! Lock the door when you get in, do you understand?"
I nodded frantically and did as he said. I shut the bathroom door behind me, locking it with a click as I listened through the door. What was happening? Why was he so afraid of him?
All I could hear was rummaging through the wood, before a muffled crash echoed into the room. I heard my dad, "Please, please don't hurt my son. I'll do anything."
My heart was racing, beating out of my chest in fear. I felt like shaking as I wrapped my arms around my knees, curling into a ball against the white door. "You knew what you did was wrong. You shouldn't have messed with me, Alonso. You knew better." As his words ended, a shot rang through the air. Then a second, and a third.
It sounded like hundreds in my head, and as a silence finally took over the room, my heavy breathing was all I could hear. I covered my mouth with my palm, not wanting to be heard.
"Where's the boy?" A deep, grumbled voice spoke. He sounded a mere few meters away, and I felt my eyes widen in fear.
"You said you wouldn't hurt him," a softer, more silky voice replied. It was my mother. She saw this? I didn't hear a scream, nor a wail. She didn't care? "But I'm not sure."
"Find him. Teach him how to back down when it's needed, otherwise he'll end up just like his father." The scary man said, before I heard a door click shut.
