I nod a little, knowing he will see it, still looking down into my lap. “Christian surely noticed pretty fast that you were gone – at most an hour after we left. We got out quickly and with minimal people knowing what happened but…Christian’s not dumb. It took him maybe half an hour more to check
“Hi!” I say, falling into the cheerful persona that always works best in the clubs that I’ve worked at the moment we step through the door. Frankie follows coolly at my heels as I stride forward towards the manager, playing idly with my hair, knowing it makes me look silly and a little dumb. “Um, I
Her song ends and Frankie sighs as the girl gathers her money, hoping Bambi comes on soon so they can get out of here faster. He’s never been so uncomfortable in a strip club in his entire life – an experience that is a sincere disappointment. “Gentlemen,” a deep voice says from the loudspeaker, “
Days pass. And honestly, I don’t remember most of them. I spend most of my time staring out the passenger-side window contemplating my life, my choices, my relationship. Wondering how fast Christian is going to catch up to us, what he will do to Frankie and I when he does. The thoughts are so
He mostly drives during the day and then, at night, when he starts to flag, I take over. When I run out of steam, we find a place to park and stretch out across the seats, catching a few hours of sleep – him in the front, me in the back. They’re long, lonely days, even though neither of us are eve
“I’ll stick around as long as you want, Bambs,” Frankie says, looking down and working hard to hide his emotions as he says this. Then he quickly grabs a French fry and throws it at me. “As long as you stop snoring so loudly while you sleep –“ I burst out laughing, grabbing the fry and eating it,
A little smile finds my lips as he says that, because I’m not sure I’m used to Frankie saying something so poetic. Even though I think I’ve long known, deep down, that he’s been capable of it. “Okay,” I say quietly. “Then…we go until we find that somewhere beautiful.” “All right,” he says slowly,
I go on stage three times that night, and each time afterwards men beg me for a private dance. But I just laugh and shrug, telling them that’s not my style, but even as I say it I bite my lip a little, letting them think that maybe they can convince me. It works, too, because each of these men crowd