CHAPTER FOUR

Coochie quickly regretted her decision to draw the men towards her. They were now getting too lustful, and not content with just sucking on her finger. Now, they were trying to kiss her, trying to reach for and grab her boobs and even trying to drag her off the platform. Some were now waving their dicks in her face, with others attempting to scale the platform and come up to her. The message was clear: They wanted to fuck her. 

But, she had no such intentions. She was here to dance for them, not fuck them. Any of them. And so, she decided to call it a night. Pulling herself away from their tight grips, she stood straight and hurried off the stage.

Backstage, in the changing rooms, Mindi sat, still very disgusted at herself for allowing Andrej to use her whenever and however, simply because he knew she needed the money. She was dressed now, in a sleeveless top, jean shorts, and sneakers. 

She was sitting here when Coochie came into the room, waved briefly at her, and hurriedly began getting dressed, as though she would die if she stayed one more minute without clothes. She watched as Coochie put on her clothes; a full-sleeved, turtle-necked top, tightly fitting pants, and boots. Not one sensitive part of her body could be seen. One would never know she was a stripper if she wasn't seen in action. She intrigued Mindi, with the way she always stayed in her space, did her job, and left, with no friendships, no sex with the manager, and no extremes with customers. Never asking for help, because she seemingly never needed any.

As Coochie opened the door to leave, Mindi couldn't hold her thoughts back anymore.

"Coochie? Can I ask you something?"

She stopped but didn't turn.

"Quick.."

"I. I just had to fuck Andrej to get money for my tuition and rent, and, I don't even mind fucking a customer if they'll pay well. But, you. you never need all that. You're so..Independent.How?"

At this point, Coochie turned, with a sad smile on her face.

"This may surprise you, Mindi. But, you're the independent one here.. Me? I'm a slave. I wish I had your life.."

She made to leave but then turned again to say, "And, Mindi? My name's not 'Coochie'. It's Mercedes."

"Do I look like a man to fuck about, Andrej? I'm not joking. Give me this woman, and I scratch off your debt. Forever."

Andrej was thinking hard now. It looked straightforward, but it wasn't. His cousin, Aleksandr, had always warned him against messing with Coochie, and he'd been careful to obey that. But, now, if he didn't give her to Don Fabrizio, the man was prepared to kill him.

"Don. It's not really in my power. I will have to consult with the woman, and with Aleksandr.."

"..So, now, you want to consult? When you took my money to the casino, you didn't consult, no?"

Don Fabrizio was pissed off, now. But, he was willing to be reasonable. For now.

"Okay, then. I will give you a week to think. But, if at the end of a week, that woman is not mine.."

He stepped closer to Andrej, now, who'd been on the floor all along, and looked into his eyes.

"..Then, I will kill you. And I will still have the woman. It's your call, Andrej.."

With that, Don Fabrizio walked out of the office, followed by his bodyguard, leaving Andrej with more than enough food for thought.

If he chose to go along and trade Coochie to Don Fabrizio, what would Aleksandr think of it? And, if he kept to his cousin's instructions, what would Don Fabrizio think of and do about it? He couldn't call Aleksandr, because his cousin would roast him for fucking with business money, and Don Fabrizio couldn't be reasoned with any further. 

What was he to do?

The banging on his door the next morning was what woke FBI Agent Snyder from his deep slumber. He'd been stressed out from the previous night's task, and so, even when his alarm had gone off repeatedly, he didn't wake. Until the loud, constant banging on the door.

"Who is it!!?" He bellowed as he dragged himself up and out of the couch where he'd been sleeping. Taking a glance at himself as he went to get the door, he realized that he hadn't even taken his clothes off after getting home, and was still in full gear, even his shoes were still on him. Damn.

Turning the bolt on the door and swinging it open, he saw Ruby, his colleague at the FBI, a brief brunette, standing outside. She was dressed in a black hoodie and matching joggers, to go with a clean, white pair of sneakers. She looked pretty, but she had a pissed-off look on her face.

"What the fuck, Snyder? I have been calling you for ages; but no response! I buzzed you on Twitter, I*******m, F******k, and everywhere else I could think of; but no response!! What the…"

Cutting her rant short, he pulled her into the house and closed the door, not willing to stand and chat in the cold.

"So.. Care to explain why you weren't taking my calls or replying to my messages?"

She said when inside, not willing to let the matter go easily.

Snyder crashed onto the couch he'd been sleeping on, still annoyed that she'd cut his sleep short. Ruby, however, stood her hands in her pockets, a somewhat boyish stance; watching him.

"I only just woke up, Ruby, give me a fuckin break.. I didn't even hear my alarm go off, so, how the fuck am I supposed to have heard a phone call or gotten DMs on social media? I'm surprised I locked the door, because, I don't remember doing so.. There. That's what happened. Happy?"

She didn't look too convinced, but, she was willing to cut to the chase and dive into the main reason she was there.

"How'd it go last night?"

Snyder took a deep breath. He had gone to Tequila's Pay Per View event last night, while undercover, with the hopes of getting concrete evidence to pin them with, as the club had been suspected of drug dealing for a while, but, things hadn't gone as he'd hoped or planned. Not even in the least.

".. I have bad news… And, then I have worse news.."

Ruby looked confused. "The fuck, Snyder? Nothing good?"

He shook his head regretfully. "I'm afraid not."