First Girl Gone by L.T. Vargus

Author:L.T. Vargus [Vargus, L.T. & McBain, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781838888329
Publisher: Bookouture
Published: 2020-09-17T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty-Three

Charlie eased open the heavy steel door, trying to get a peek as the slab of metal glided away. At first, she could only see the bright light shining in the growing slit of the doorway.

Then she saw the girls—six of them huddled before a pair of vanities, barely dressed, caking on makeup in the mirrors. They seemed younger than the dancers she’d seen on the floor. Fresh-faced and innocent-looking.

They all glanced up at her, gone quiet for a second, but their previous conversation resumed after the hitch. They weren’t exactly surprised to see her, she thought.

“Anyway… What was I just saying?” a redhead with a long face and neck said, smearing more eyeliner around her fake lashes.

“You were talking about this stupid smoking law stuff,” another girl said. This one had dark hair in a frizzy mess of crinkles atop her head.

“Right. Yeah. See, everything they do to try to restrict it just makes smoking seem cooler. Rebellious, you know? Vaping, too. When you outlaw something and try to repress it, you only make it more appealing.”

“It’s the forbidden fruit,” Frizzy said.

“What?” Red said, turning her head. “Oh, right, yeah. That’s it exactly. ‘Tastes better ’cause it’s stolen’ is what I always say for that, but I can respect your, uh, biblical reference.”

Charlie approached slowly as the two kept talking, almost like she was creeping up on a pack of small woodland animals, worried she might spook them into bolting.

A mousy girl turned to Charlie as she got close and spoke to her in a low voice. “Are you the new girl?”

Charlie hesitated a second before she answered, instantly falling into the suggested role. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m nervous. Not sure how all of this works. I mean, I guess I’ve never done anything like this. You know?”

The other girls all turned now, cooing and offering support. Comforting phrases peppered at her from all angles, the voices tangling over each other.

“Don’t worry. You’ll do great.”

“Aw, you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Just stay strong.”

“Thanks,” Charlie said, wiping a fake tear from the corner of her eye. She took one of the seats near the left vanity, which one of the girls gave up for her.

“Jesus. Dial it back a little,” Allie whispered. “You maybe don’t remember what it’s like to be young anymore, but these troubled youths have finely tuned bullshit detectors. They’ll sniff out your waif act from a mile away if you lay it on too thick.”

Charlie noticed that instead of standard stripper garb—like the schoolgirl outfit and leopard-print ensemble she’d spotted onstage—the girls back here all wore more traditional lingerie. Corsets and garters and other items that took more effort to remove.

“So could I maybe ask you some questions about what to expect?” Charlie said, turning to face the group. “It might help me calm down, I think.”

They all nodded and vocalized various terms of agreement.

“What kind of stuff do you usually do?” Charlie asked.

Now they all fell quiet.

Red shrugged.

“You know,” the long-faced girl said, turning back to the mirror.

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