Faceless [H.S]

Coincidence. 25

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

VALERIE'S P.O.V

AUGUST, 2023

It had been a long time since I'd gone out on a date.

I couldn't quite remember the last time. I think it was even before Liam, since he never really liked to take me out much. Olivia set me up with some guy named Garrett. He was older; I think 48. We had been talking for a month or so, and I finally agreed to let him take me out. He's kind, he's handsome. So, it'll do. I guess Olivia felt guilty from that night, so she was trying to make me feel better by setting me up. 

She went back to California but we kept in touch. She really liked to tell me I needed to get 'dick', which--she was right, I really did, but perhaps I'd like some from someone who also wasn't a dick too. I think Harry came into my life specifically to ruin it just as fast as he appeared. Within a couple weeks my world was upside down. One second I'm on the pole, feeling like I'm on top of the world, next second I'm crying on my kitchen floor. 

I miss the feeling of a pole between my hands. The way the money fell at my feet. The power.

Julie called me recently, too. She told me they're fixing up Cloud Nine. It should be done soon, within the next couple of days--and she said I would always have a job there if I wanted it. But, I just didn't want to be anywhere near where Harry was. I couldn't tell her that, though. So I just laughed and said of course but I didn't mean it.

She asked if I was okay. I said yes.

I didn't mean it.

If Harry owned multiple clubs in New York... I didn't want to be part of any of them. And after the shit that I saw within the last two or so months, I needed time, which said a lot because the strip club was my home. I used to feel safe there. Not anymore.

I wanted to move, I thought of it. Leave this city. Change my name. Start new.

Having sex with him was a moment of absolute weakness. That mixed in with some weird fucking trauma bond stockholm syndrome hybrid, the daddy issues, and many, many shots of strong, unknown liquor. And apparently, Harry under the influence, was just my cup of tea apparently.

I don't even like tea.

I couldn't believe even for a split moment I thought maybe he wasn't a fucking sociopath. Men like him don't change, and I've always had the best time picking the worst guys, right? I couldn't believe we had sex. I shook the chills out of my body, wanting to throw up. The only good thing was I finally didn't see him again. He disappeared. 

Good. I hope he's fucking dead.

My phone rung as I was zipping up the back of my tight black dress, staring over at myself in the mirror. The long black fabric clung to my small frame; a slit revealing my my right thigh. I took a deep breath, pushing stray hairs out of my face so it can look neater. I grabbed my phone, finally answering. 

"Hello?" I said, puckering my lips and fixing up any mistakes of my dark lip liner.

"Hey, beautiful," Garett's deep voice spoke. "Ready for tonight?"