Run From You

Dirty Dancer

According to the Doctor who saw to my hand, I'd fractured wrist, which they referred to as 'Brawler's fracture'. I'd had to have my left wrist injected with pain relief before it was splinted and then tightly bandaged to keep the splint in place. Apparently it would take six to eight week to heal which would be a pain to have to try and work around, but in my opinion, it was totally worth it. I just hoped I wouldn't Dexter Lord in the next six to eight week so I could avoid the temptation to break my other hand. 

The most annoying thing about having a broken hand is that on Saturday nights, after our shift at Costa, Airon and I worked at a club/restaurant called 'Amethyst', Airon tended the bar while I pole dance burlesque. It wasn't in anyway stripping; sure we wore tight little outfits, but they were always comfortably stretchy and modestly covered everything. I danced because it gave me confidence in myself and my body; knowing that while you're on your platform, there are people watching you with admiration and enjoying you perform is a great confidence booster. Pole dancing especially since it is a great body toner, but having broken my knuckle, I'd limited myself to dancing just on stage. That was the only part that sucked about injuring my hand.

Four weeks later and Airon still was speechless; she couldn't decide whether to be angry that she hadn't heard it from me first or just plain shocked. Marceles, who'd been around a lot to spend time with Airon, applauded me. "It's official; Angel, you are my new hero. Oh mighty one."

"But...but don't you feel guilty?" Spluttered Airon from her perch on Marceles's knee.

"Nope. I warned him, he didn't listen, and he deserved it," I shrug. 

"And it is Dex we're on about." Marceles grins, clearly enjoying himself. "Besides, Angel's probably the first person whose told him he can't have something he wants and stood up to him about it."

"How did you end up at our Costa anyway?" I demand, still peeved that Dexter was there to begin with.

"After you slashed him, he asked the bar manager about you but was directed to Airon, and a background check on Airon showed her working at Costa. Sorry about that, babe." He adds, kissing Airon's cheek, she didn't mind. I did.

"So he was stalking me?!" 

"He wanted to know what kind of person has the guts to stand up to him in front of a whole restaurant full of people." Marceles shrugs, smiling still. 

"Great. Just brilliant." I huff. 

"Anyway, ladies, I have to get going." He stands, Airon pouts. "I will see you, my lovely, later tonight." He drops his voice, leaning in to kiss Airon; I turn away and head to the kitchen to make some food. "See you round Ange!" He calls, heading for the door. I jut my chin in acknowledgement.

"Later tonight?" I ask Airon when he's gone. 

"He's gonna come see me tonight at work." She smiles happily, "Don't worry. I haven't told him you work there too, but he has been asking questions about you. Apparently, Dexter is getting annoyed that he can't find out anything about you; he's asked Marceles to make enquiries. Neither is getting very far." She grins evilly.