It wasn't fate that brought me here in the whore house. It wasn't being stupid to be standing in a stage with flickering red, blue and green lights while wearing a see through lingerie, dancing in front of these men, ogling over me—their eyes screaming with nothing but lust and sinful thoughts of my almost naked body. I'm here because I want to have justice—a big word that I have to work all through these years, sacrificing my own future just for the sake of revenge.
My gaze turned over a man sitting six feet away from me, watching me intently and indecently. His legs crossed on top of the coffee table, his arms spread against the back of the sofa, while a cigarette was in between his lips, I could see the cigarette butt turning bright red with his every puff.
Regan had always been my target ever since the night where I saw him killed my parents. His face was etched in my head; his green eyes haunting me in my dreams. I couldn't remember the last time where I was able to sleep well without having him as a nightmare.
When I was a kid, I would hide under my bed during thunderstorms as it reminded me that rainy night my parents was killed. I had to tend to myself, telling my little orphan self to try to be strong; that if I could just try to fight all those fears and trauma, I would be able to avenge my family at some point.
Thus the reason why I'm here, dancing my now naked body in front of these lecherous men.
"That was a good show." The club's manager clapped as soon as all the customers gone. It was 4:30 in the morning. My feet hurt like I ran a marathon. Thanks to the six inches heels they had us wear as a mandatory outfit for strippers. "I know you're going to be my lucky girl, Rocky. Whenever you're the star, everyone spends their money like a gamble they couldn't stop gambling."
I frowned at her. Renalia was in her mid-fifties. Gray streaked evident on her black short hair. Her face sagged because of loose skin, and freckles trailed all over her cheeks and forehead like a map. She stood four foot six and her body was asymmetrical to her thin legs, making her a bit look alike Mrs. Pops from Spongebob.
"Thanks." I gave a forced smile that immediately faded when I saw Regan approaching us.
He stopped in front of me with all his six foot three height. His eyes were cold and distant as he stared down at me. Regan didn't say anything that made me feel anxious as his eyes didn't budge away from me, but instead of looking away, I stared back at him with the same amount of coldness he's giving.
"Hi Rocky," Cain greeted cheerfully—he's Regan's right-hand man. I ignored his friendly greeting as I keep my eyes on Regan.
Thunder lightning the darkness of the night and as it strikes the pouring sky, I saw a green eyes staring back at me...
These same exact green eyes that I was staring at right now. These green eyes in that room where I was hiding—these green eyes which haunted me all the way to my dreams is staring at me, and I couldn't help but feel the panic rising inside of me.
Calm down, Rocket...
Don't be afraid. "Do you need something from me?" I asked as he kept his eyes on me. Hoping that he doesn't feel the quiver in my voice.
He didn't answer immediately but instead he smirked at me. "No." Then what does that smirk means? I scrunched my forehead while looking up at him. He's about six and a half inches taller than me, and through the black shirt he was wearing, I could see it shaping the toned muscle of his body, he could easily strangle me to death. There was also a tattoo barely showing on the right sleeve of his t-shirt.
I took a step back. According to the information that we have for this person, Regan was trained to be a killer. There was no definitive details on how he was trained but I know, I could feel how dangerous he is. It was sixteen years ago when I first saw him in our home and I remember how young he was in my memories. Now, he's a grown man and if I was a regular, normal person, I could've fallen for his insanely good looks.
"Are you done checking me out? Your eyes are all over me." He asked as he lights another stick of cigarette. He blows out the smoke and turned his eyes on me, amused and confused.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't get it," he inhales, closing his eyes for a mere second and when he opened it, I could've sworn I felt my instinct telling me to run. "Your eyes tells me something. Something you've been wanting to tell me, to do to me." He paused and in one swift move, he closed the gap between the two of us. "I wonder what it is..."
"You're in my space." I made my voice loud and clear, but instead, Regan grabbed my jaw harshly, his jaw clenching and I could see the displease in the way he stares back at me.
"I'm your boss and I can be in all your fucking space. You work for me, you belong to me, and that means that You. Are. My. Whore."
"I don't belong to anyone and for your information, I'm not a whore." Stripper is different from a whore and I refuse to acknowledge that it's the same thing. We worked in the same place but the job that we do are both different. "So, get your fucking filthy hands off me."
Regan's grip tightened on my jaw it started to hurt. I hissed and held in his arm to try to pull him away but he's too strong for me. God, could I even kill this man for the justice that I want?
At the end, he lets me go by pushing me harshly away from him. I glared at him but he was not interested on my anger anymore. Regan combed his hair through his fingers as he looks back at me.
"You gotta watch your back, bitch." He said, pressing the cigarette butt on an ashtray at the nearby table. He turned his green eyes on me once more before grinning. "I've got my eye on you."
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More Rocket's POV? Hehehe
