Step propped himself against the passenger-side door of his truck and sucked on a Porter 100. The burning tobacco sizzled and popped as he inhaled the smoke. Every time he registered the sound, he imagined his nerves in the same volatile state. Gunner had been inside The Rat’s Tail for a good twenty minutes. The skinny closeout king wanted to throttle the son of a bitch.
When the embers came up against the filter, Step flicked the spent cigarette to the ground and marched toward the front door of the strip club. Two of The Rat’s Tail’s regulars passed him on his way inside.
“You here for your bitch?” one of them asked in a drunken slur.
Without giving it a thought, Step snatched the cracker by his throat and shoved his head against the wall. “What are you talking about?”
The other cracker stepped back and bolted toward the parking lot.
“Bones,” the man said as his vocal chords were being squeezed. “Back booth, near the men’s room.”
Step loosened his grip. “What about it?”
“She’s been having herself a time.”
Step flattened his hand and kept the cracker pinned to the wall.
“I ain’t been back there myself, but they’s been talk.”
“What kind of talk?”
The man hesitated. “She’s getting done back there. By fella after fella.”
Step looked at him blankly.
“I talked to three fellas myself that says they obliged her when she flat out asked for it. She ain’t charging hardly nothing at all.”
Step snarled as his blood started to boil. For no other reason than he was nearby, the skinny closeout king threw an elbow into the cracker’s nose and watched him collapse to the ground, hollering in pain.
“I told you I ain’t been back there,” the man said as he sobbed.
Step turned and ignored the bouncer’s questions about the injured cracker. As he moved to the main stage area, he peered through the midday crowd and fixed his eyes on the booth. Four men stood in a half circle, blocking his view. They cheered and yelped wildly. Step barreled toward the scene like a grizzly running down a wounded deer. The music was blaring, but the skinny closeout king couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart thumping against his chest and the blood screaming through his veins.
The first strip club patron didn’t have a chance. Step’s fist caught him square in the ear and he went stumbling hard into the man next to him. The third man raised his beer bottle to smash Step over the head, but the skinny closeout king’s other fist knocked his nose into a knot before he could bring the bottle down. The fourth man was on the other side of the main stage as soon as he saw his friends on the receiving end of Step’s rage.
The cracker that had Bones bent over the table didn’t take notice of the commotion behind him. He had knocked a head or two to move up in Bones’s receiving line himself, so he assumed the same sort of thing was going on.
Step slapped the man’s hat off and yanked his head back by his greasy hair. The cracker was flat on the floor, sporting an erection and a handful less hair before he knew what hit him. When he tried to get up, the skinny closeout king stomped his groin like he was squashing a bug.
Bones lay lethargic on the table. She lazily lifted her head and looked behind her. In a weak, listless voice she said, “Next.”
Step stared at her in disbelief. She was naked, lying facedown in a smattering of dollar bills. The anger that had fueled his charge was beaten back by a wave of heartache. He fought mightily not to break down in tears.
The fat manager emerged from the back and stomped toward the booth. “What in the living hell is going on?”
Step forced the sympathetic expression from his face and turned with a growl. “I thought she wasn’t allowed in here no more!”
The manager examined the carnage. “You can’t go busting up my club like that, Step. You just can’t.”
Step grabbed him by his collar. “Why is she here?”
“I ain’t got the foggiest. I swear. I’ve been napping in the back, hand to God. If I’d known she was here, I’da sent her packing. She’s bad for business.”
Step let him go. “I ever hear she’s in here again, Ima burn this fucking place down.”
The fat man nodded.
The skinny closeout king gently lifted the naked Bones off the table and held her in his arms. Candy approached with a towel and a stack of clothes. “This come from her locker,” she said as she draped the towel over Bones and rested the clothes on her sunken belly.
Step nodded in appreciation. “Where’s Gunner and Dreama?”
“Dressing room. They’ve been pulling ass for fifteen minutes now. Poor thing’s so tired he can’t let loose. She wanted me to tag out, but I got a set to do.”
Step’s expression soured even more. “Tell him he’s got five minutes before I put a call into Boss.”
“I’ll tell him.” Before walking away she said, “She ain’t long for this world if something ain’t done.”
The midday crackers parted in silence as Step carried Bones out of the club.