“Sure, but I’m late for work, so it’ll have to be quick.” I lean back against my car, waiting to talk to Leah before I go inside Zeus’s, not wanting to expose my little sister, even in voice only, to the debauchery of a strip club.
“Oh, dear. We’ll hurry. Here she is.” My mom mumbles what I assume is instructions to my sister.
“Hello?”
I grin at the sound of her tiny voice. “Hey, Leah, I miss you.”
“H-hi!” My parents adopted Leah from an orphanage in India where little girls are given up freely by their parents. She came to live with us when she was four and has always had the sweetest stutter. “I m-m-miss you.”
“I miss you too. How’s school?”
“Good, except for the kids who’re mean to A-a-ron.” Aaron was adopted from Tanzania and is the same age and grade as Leah, so they’ve been raised like twins. “They call him n-n-names for being black.”
My hand grips my phone so tight my fingers go numb. Those assholes! “Aw, well kids make fun of things they don’t understand. I’m sorry Leah-bear. Tell Aaron he’s perfect and that it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”
My poor parents. Raising eight kids adopted from all over the world and varied in color and ethnicity, Mom and Dad came up with a lot of creative ways to explain hate.
“Okay, Leah,” my mom says in the background. “Your sister has to go now.”
“I l-love you! Bye!”
“I’ll see you in a couple weeks. Bye, munchkin.” My heart cramps that I’m not there—that I’m in Vegas rather than home with my mom shouldering the weight of raising kids from the ages of five to sixteen. Being the oldest now, I should be there to help now that Lana is gone. Pain slices through my gut, reminding me exactly why I’m not home. “Mom?”
“Hi, yeah, sorry to keep you. They’re so excited for you to come home. We all are. I’ll let you go. Have a good night at work, honey.” There’s a sadness in her voice, but how could there not be? My parents know what I do for a living, and I’m well aware that it rips away at their hearts.
They don’t understand why I strip, why I left home at nineteen to become an adult entertainer. Some days, when weeks and weeks pass and I get no new leads, I don’t understand either. I get lost in playing the role and forget the reason why I started in the first place: for Lana, always for Lana. And once I accomplish all I need to do here, I swear I’ll move home and take care of the only two people in this world who have ever loved and accepted me for exactly who I am.
“Thanks, Mom. Give Daddy a hug and . . . I love you.”
“Love you too. Speak soon.”
I shove my phone into my bag and mentally prepare for my night. I try to convince myself that this lifestyle hasn’t gotten to me, that it’s not eating away at my soul, destined to leave me hallow and empty-handed. I’ve invested too much, given up too much to stop now.
Six
Mason
“Can I get you boys another round?” A red-headed waitress, who I assume is also a stripper, stands with a tray in one hand and the other hand placed on her cocked, lace-clad hip. She’s wearing a tight dress made completely of white lace that showcases a blood-red thong and nothing else.
“No, thanks. I’m—”
“Don’t listen to him.” Jayden whirls his hand, motioning around the table exaggeratedly with big eyes and an equally big grin. “Another round.”
She spins on a spiked heel, and we all watch her ass as she struts away to place our order. The music pounds and the glow from the black lights blurs my vision. Why do they insist on making everything in these places glow? The smell of old booze and perfume is so pungent I can taste it. I blink rapidly and check the time. This is miserable. Sooner I get out of here, the better.
I lean over to my brother, who is sitting closest to me. “Why are we here?” I have to practically yell over the throbbing music and don’t find it shocking at all that his eyes stay glued to the brunette who’s currently grinding against a pole on stage.
His eyes are wide and rimmed with dark circles. It’s not uncommon to pull all-nighters in Vegas, but Drake looks like he hasn’t