The Perfect Gift

“Then let me do it,” I said. I pulled my foot back and gave Otto an easy kick in the ribs that made him groan.

“I like your style, Danny O’Shea,” Archie said with a look mixed with admiration and dread. “Come on, let’s get the fuck out of here before he wakes up. I got someone you need to meet.”

Chapter Four: Hannah

Unfortunately, the staircase that led to my apartment was connected to the strip club by a narrow hallway, and down this hallway was Richie’s office, a storeroom, and the kitchen, as well as a door into the alley.

As I was turning off the lights, the sound of Richie’s laughter boomed in the hallway, a signal that my brother was in a seriously good mood, and it probably involved money. That could only mean that someone had become ensnared in one of his traps. Drugs. Whores. Gambling. It didn’t matter. Richie would get someone hooked, and then they owed him for life.

After midnight was an odd time of night for a meeting though. Curious, or stupid, I decided to take a peek. If he saw me, I’d feign insomnia and ask for a nightcap. He liked to look like a doting brother in front of minions.

Since I was dressed in a teddy that showed way too much skin, I grabbed my flannel bathrobe and wrapped it tightly. The last thing I needed was someone eyeing me and getting any ideas. I wasn’t sure who I

might encounter.

My locks disengaged quietly because I kept them well oiled. The stairs didn’t protest under my weight because I was tall and slender, not a big old ox like Butch. I crept down on bare feet, pulling the sash of my robe tighter, suddenly wishing it had a turtleneck because this robe showed too much cleavage.

The music got louder as I descended, the thump and beat of “Pour Some Sugar on Me” vibrating against the risers. I’d always liked that song, but lately I cringed when I heard it.

The flash of strobe lights flared through the partially opened door to the club. I squinted against the annoying flicker, wondering how anyone could enjoy a night out in that environment, but I knew from experience that the louder the music, the more liquor was consumed.

The pulsing lights kept the excitement level up, and the more excited the men got, the more money they threw on the stage. Men were sheep, and when you put a bunch of them in the same room with a naked woman and all the liquor they could drink, they became horny rams looking for a score.

The only other light shown from Richie’s office around the corner, so I followed the dim trail and peeked around the T-junction. Richie was shaking hands with a stranger, and Archie Dee stood by like a good little bootlicker. I could feel the hero worship from here. It wafted off Archie in pitiful waves as he fawned over my brother and gestured between himself and the stranger. I hadn’t gotten a good look at him because he faced away from the door, but he was a big lout. All we needed around here was more brawn and less brains. The place got dumber by the day.

No one just casually meeting Richie would know what a bastard he was. My brother was a good-looking man by almost any standards except mine. I knew the blackness of his heart. We both had our father’s black hair and olive skin, and I’d been blessed with my mother’s cornflower blue eyes, but Richie’s eyes were like no one’s in the family. Black voids. Empty except for the darkness that led to his soul. Staring into his eyes was like staring into a level of hell you’d never known existed, and when he smiled, and you knew him like I did… Well, men actually pissed their pants sometimes.

Tonight, though, that smile was different, big, wide, friendly. He put his arm around Archie Dee and tucked the smaller man right into his side like the good buddies they had always been. If my brother had a soft spot, it wasn’t for his strippers, and it wasn’t for me. It was for Archie. Something had bound them together as kids, but I’d only been a baby then, so I wasn’t in on that secret.

The lighting had changed to flashing red lights, casting an eerie glow over the dark hallway, and then I heard the guitar. I knew what was coming next. Glimmer’s favorite song. I happened to like it too, and for a moment I lost myself to the music and started bouncing and swaying in the hallway until I caught myself. Occupational hazard I guess, or maybe it was just me. Did I like to dance? I sure damn did, but dancing in this place was a bad and dangerous precedent to set. Richie could always change his mind and decide to give me a promotion. Lots of guys had begged him to put me on the stage. The thought made me gag. I didn’t even like them looking at me in the low-cut blouses Richie made me wear. I died a little inside every time I had to put one on.

I crept a little closer so I could hear them over the pulse of Shook Me All Night Long.

“That was a good thing you did, friend,” Richie said. “I won’t soon forget it. Archie here is a friend for life.”

Something was wrong with Archie’s hand because he kept it cupped against his chest, and every time Richie moved, Archie winced and sent a tight smile toward the man in the shadows. He was tall, built like the hero on the cover of the book I kept on my nightstand, with a head of dark hair that curled against the nape of his neck. Below the sleeves of his black T-shirt, his arms were loaded with tats, not scary ones like Butch’s but beautiful artwork that drew the eye.

“He looked like he could use a hand,” the man said. “Bad pun, Archie. Sorry.”

“No problem,” Archie said, cupping his hand closer. Richie jostled him again, and Archie grimaced. My brother was such a dick.

“Archie should stay out of the pool halls,” Richie said. “He sucks balls at it.”

The stranger laughed, and when I heard it, the sound shot straight through my body and my pussy clenched on emptiness. Jesus.

“Aw, Richie, that ain’t true. I’m okay at pool.”

“Not good enough to hustle the big boys,” Richie said.

“I just needed a little extra dough.”

“Bullshit,” Richie muttered. “I’m not good enough to you? Don’t I take care of you?”

Archie scratched at the arm cradled against him and, even in the dim light, seemed to pale. My brother generally kept him supplied with drugs and liquor, but Archie must have gone through his allotment for the month. Richie wasn’t going to be happy about that. He liked to keep Archie malleable but mostly in the here and now. Too many junkies dropped out of reality, and that wouldn’t serve my brother at all.

“You do, Richie,” Archie murmured. “Like I said, I just needed some extra dough, you know, for my kids and shit. That damn bitch has been on my back again.”

Richie sighed. “You should have come to me.” He dropped into his leather chair and twisted it back and forth, his hands loose on the armrests. I’m not sure I’d ever seen my brother so relaxed. It had to serve a purpose, and seeing it made me nervous. “You’re a damn fool, Arch. You could have been killed. Hustling Otto is the fast track to the morgue.”