13 Angry Women
(First Chapter Sample)
BY: J. Collin
Copyright © 2011 Happy Acres Publishing
ISBN: 978-0-9878888-3-9
13 Angry Women: Smashwords Edition
Happy Acres Publishing reserves all rights to the ebook version of 13 Angry Women. No part of this ebook can be reproduced, posted, copied, redistributed or distributed without express permission from Happy Acres Publishing.
Cover Design by J. Collin & Luci Iverson
Book 1: Andria
It was a normal ultra-humid summer day in the middle of Minnesota. I had picked up Jaymee to go to the club and get things opened up. When we reached the dirt parking lot outside the Dirty Girls, Petra was sitting in her car smoking a joint. Jaymee looked over at me.
“Do you have any?” Jaymee asked.
“I can give you some inside.” I said knowing I had a baggie inside my purse. I just didn’t want to do it out in the parking lot.
Petra watched us get out of my red Jeep and followed us inside Dirty Girls.
“Hey Bitches,” Petra said in a cool tone, her platinum blonde hair hiding half her face.
“Hey Petra,” said Jaymee in a soft tone.
I looked over at Jaymee with her tall frame and long, curly dark hair. If I had to guess I would say she was about six feet tall.
The club, located on the edge of a town named Lake Carlos, was made to look like an old style saloon but had absolutely no windows. Inside, there was a large stage in the middle and a bar on the opposite side of the room of the entrance. It always seemed to look a little hazy, a little surreal. It was the business we were in, fantasy.
Petra and I usually arrived to work in jeans and t-shirts. On the other hand, Jaymee looked like a stripper twenty-four hours a day seven days a week. There was a part of me that thought Jaymee wore a sequined thong to bed. That particular morning she was wearing a silver half-shirt with a tight black skirt.
I didn’t want to be at work that day. Actually, it had been months since I had felt even remotely okay with my job. When I walked in at the beginning of my shift I felt an impending sense of doom. I can’t even begin to describe how trapped I felt. It just sucked. There was a time I didn’t mind stripping so much, but that time had passed. I hated the dancing, being on my feet all night. It was physically draining. I hated the dark lights and the smell of stale beer that had spilled on the floor. Most of all, I hated men running into the bathroom after watching the dancers. After a while it just gets gross. I was just tired.
My job was really not all that different then working as an investment banker or a realtor. Just like me, business professionals are often forced to compromise themselves, forced to do things for money which conflict with their ideals. The key thing that separates my line of work from that of a banker is that when I get screwed it’s literal.
Jaymee and Petra headed back to the dressing room while I walked behind the bar to get a soda before work started. I caught my reflection in a mirror. My short brown hair was going in every direction. Looking closer I didn’t see someone in her mid-twenties, instead, I saw someone with sunken eyes who needed more sleep or an escape.
The door cracked again letting a ray of sun into the club. The light only served to show the dust in the air as well as the grimy film that seemed to cover every surface of the bar. Jesusa, the bartender made her way in through the entrance.
Jesusa used to be an exotic dancer. She was a little over thirty years old, considered too old to be a dancer by the club owners. I found the age thing a little off-putting as she was by far the most beautiful of any women who entered Dirty Girls. She wasn’t a really tall woman or super skinny, but she just had something about her. It was something in her dark complexion and Mexican accent. She was one of those people that knew all the answers yet never offered a suggestion unless she was asked.
“How is Andria this afternoon?” Jesusa asked.
“I’m okay. How is Jesusa?” I asked.
“Same.” Jesusa said as she nodded her head and walked behind the bar putting her purse down.
Suddenly, there was a scream. It was a high-pitched voice filled with pain or terror, maybe both.
“What the hell was that?” I asked looking at Jesusa.
“I think we will find out.” she responded.
Jesusa walked through a narrow, dark hallway back to the storage room with me trailing behind her. As we got closer to the end we heard another scream followed by something that sounded like begging. The sound made my stomach roll with anxiety. It wasn’t a moment that increased my job satisfaction.
Jesusa didn’t bother to sneak in slowly; instead, she quickly burst in through the two swinging doors that led to the back room.
There were a few cameras set up on tripods as well as some computer equipment on wooden desk next to the wall. The club owner, Chuck Nelson, was standing against a stack of beer. He had a large potbelly that looked awkward with his tall stature. He also had a full white beard, which looked almost fake next to his grey hair.
Next to Chuck was Alex Gunner, a congressman with a tent forming in his pants. He had perfect blonde hair and was wearing a suit, which look like it ran several thousand dollars. A frequent guest of the club, he would target the women he knew were okay with prostitution. He would request a blowjob and had a tendency to never pay for their hard work. Alex was a jerk.
Dan Johnson, Chuck’s assistant manager was standing next to the table behind what looked like a very young, completely naked woman. She looked barely eighteen years old. His pants were on the floor beside him and his hand was covering his genitals. Dan was a large guy with mousey brown hair, average looks, and huge muscles. He would often stand in as a bouncer for the club, making sure there was no trouble, at least nothing that would jeopardize the club.
The girl had tears running down her face and was saying something I couldn’t understand. However, it was clear Jesusa knew what she was saying. The young woman was clutching the table with blood trickling down between her legs.
Everyone who worked at the club knew Chuck and Dan had been making porn, but they hadn’t been doing it while we were here. It was different seeing it in person. Especially with the woman, who obviously didn’t want to be a part of the film. Before seeing it for real, my imagination seemed to picture something that was acceptable. My imagination sometimes has a way of making horrifying things seem acceptable.
The woman yelled something that I didn’t understand. I could feel the panic in her voice. When she looked at us, I could see how scared she was that we would leave the room and let the videotaping continue. Dan had hurt the young woman.
“What the hell is going on here?” Jesusa yelled.
Chuck sighed letting us know we were inconveniencing him. “We’re working. You ladies need to get out front. The club will be opening in a bit.”
I looked on, scared, wishing the earth would open up and take me away from the nightmare. Jesusa and I had walked out of our place. We had disrupted the natural order of the strip club.
Jesusa was visibly pissed off. “This is not work, you are raping this girl.”
Dan got a forceful look of irritation on his face. “Mind your own business Jesusa, and get your ass behind the bar.”
Jesusa calmly left through the storage room doors without saying anything. I looked around and everyone was staring at me while the young woman continued to cry and beg. I couldn’t move.
“Andria, you need to get your ass out of here now.” Chuck said calmly.
When I looked over at the young woman, I realized the blood had now had started to pool at her feet.
“No.” I responded in a whisper. I have no idea why I didn’t run out of the room. No matter how scared I was it seemed morally wrong to leave, to leave the young woman at the mercy of these men.
“The more time you take the more money I lose.” Chuck said. “Are you planning on giving me your tips for the next week to make up for this?”
I opened my mouth to answer as the storage room doors opened again. Jesusa walked in, calmly, with a large riffle that was normally hidden behind the bar. I was happy to see it.
“Zip up your pants Dan.” Jesusa said looking over at all three men in a way that was daring them to defy her.
“I am going to say this one more time,” said Chuck walking towards Jesusa. “You ladies need to get your asses out front and get the club ready to open or you are fired.”
Jesusa fired towards the ceiling and I jumped. A little bit of dust and plaster fell to the ground as everyone stood still. She then kicked over the table that held much of the computer equipment.
“Shut the fuck up!” Jesusa yelled. “You are no longer in charge. All three of you need to stand right here.” Jesusa said pointing to an area right in front of her with her toes.
Dan, Chuck, and Alex walked over and stood a few feet from Jesusa.
“When we get out of this you are in a world of hurt cunt…” Chuck said.
Jaymee and Petra had heard the noise so they made their way to the back room. Both women looked horrified when they saw the naked woman, crying next to the table.
“What the fuck is this?” Petra asked abrasively.
“What is this Chuck?” Jaymee asked though it was clear an answer was not what she was looking for.
A sour look covered Dan’s face “At what point did you not understand this is what we do?”
“Seriously Chuck, shut the fuck up.” Petra said.
“The two of you need to take your pants and underwear off now!” Jesusa said assertively.
“You ladies going to blow us?” Chuck asked.
“Maybe I’ll make you blow one another.” Jesusa said raising her eyebrows and pointing the gun at Chuck.
Alex took his pants and underwear off, looking at the ground. Surprisingly, he still had an erection. Chuck hesitated then took his off. Then, standing naked from the waist down, he flipped Jesusa off.
I looked over at the young woman. She was still crying and shaking. I was a little worried with the amount of blood she had lost. My guess was Dan raped her anally without using lube.
“Get on your knees boys.” Jesusa said.
Chuck folded his arms in defiance.
Jesusa fired another shot before Chuck could finish. “Down on your knees now!”
All three men begrudgingly got down on the ground.
The following moments were nothing short of a dream. Jesusa handed me the gun and then motioned for the young Mexican woman to walk over to where we were standing.
“The girl is the only one allowed to move.” Jesusa said, making things clear to Chuck, Dan, and Alex.
I didn’t say anything and simply did what I was told. Of all the people in the room Jesusa was by far the scariest. She walked out of the room.
Jaymee left the room looking as though she was going to throw up. She was the most tender-hearted of all the women working at the club as well as someone who would have difficulty with situations like this. Ironically, on some level, everyone at the club expected more from Jaymee because she had been born with boy parts.
Alex continued to look down in an attempt to avoid eye contact with us.
“So, what are you girls going to do?” Dan asked.
“Shut up Dan.” Petra said.
“Excuse me?” Dan laughed. “Oh come on. You all are going to take a few dollars out of the register? Maybe spend a few days on the run? The police are going to catch you and you will go to jail for this.”
Petra walked out of the room. I had no damn idea why. Everything had become a blur. It was like I was watching TV, watching someone else’s life. What was happening was too scary to be real.
Jaymee returned with some clothes. She walked over and handed a shirt and pants to the naked girl. Although the girl continued to cry she appeared to feel much safer.
I looked over at Jaymee who was visibly struggling not to cry.
“How old is this girl Chuck?” Jaymee asked.
“Old enough.” Dan said smugly.
I was still shaking. At the same time I wanted to slap the shit out of Dan. I looked over at Alex’s clothing on the floor only to realize there was a blood stain in his underwear. They were passing the young woman around.
“What exactly is old enough?” asked Jaymee, now sheltering the girl in her arms.
“If they are old enough to bleed...” Dan said
I looked at Dan. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” Though I said it assertively I continued to shake. I was betting Dan could see the fear in my eyes.
When the young woman was dressed Jaymee wrapped a blanket around her and hugged her in an attempt to give her some sort of comfort.
“You guys are going to prison for this.” Petra said almost with a look of satisfaction on her face. Petra was the only one at the club who hated her job more than me. She would be happy to see Dan and Chuck go to prison.
Alex suddenly looked scared. “Okay, let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”
“Alex, you are a cock sucker.” Jaymee said in a soft, non-threatening voice. “Chuck and Dan, you are both cock suckers.”
Dan smiled. “You are nothing but a whore Petra. Besides, if we go to prison you also go. I think the county prosecutor would be very interested to hear about the contribution the girls at my club have made towards the drug trade.”
“Fuck you Dan.” I said. At the same time I was picturing myself hitting him on the head with the butt of the gun.
“There might also be some sort of an accident or a disappearance. Look at yourselves. The three of you, you’re nothing. If one of you went missing tomorrow no one would give a shit. Because all you are strippers. On the food chain you cunts fall just above meth dealers and pedophiles.”
“You’re an asshole Dan.” I said starting to shake even more now. It wasn’t the fact that I was holding a gun. It was what he said. Even though he was a jerk there was a certain truth to his words. When a prostitute is killed no one really pays attention. However, when a woman or girl from a middle class or wealthy home is killed it’s different.
The thing is, there had been at least one woman who had gone missing from Dirty Girls, Charley. She was in her early twenties, blond hair and blue eyes, she fetched top dollar when she would do tricks. But then, one day she was gone. Several of us had asked Chuck and Dan where she had gone, but we didn’t get answers. Jesusa and Jaymee had driven to the police station to report her missing. The two women were told she was most likely high on drugs or decided to take a trip with a boyfriend. Law enforcement never followed up.
Jesusa and Petra walked back into the storeroom. Jesusa motioned towards Jaymee then pointed towards the young Mexican woman “Take her outside.”
The young woman, realizing she was going to be leaving, walked over to Dan.
“You’re shit,” she said to Dan in a heavy accent and then spit on his head.
Jaymee walked over and gently put her arm around the young woman and walked her out of the storeroom towards the bar area.
The young woman turned around and yelled “Shit!” one more time and then made her way outside with Jaymee.
Jesusa and Petra pulled out the tapes and memory cards from the cameras used to record the assault on the young woman throwing the evidence in a box. In the corner of the room there was a computer. Jesusa merely unplugged everything, picked up the hard drive and kicked the monitor off the table. Making sure it was broken, she stomped on it a few times.
Alex was silent. I looked at his crotch to see that his erection was gone. Something very disturbing occurred to me in that moment.
“Alex,” I asked with my voice shaking. “You were so turned on by the violence towards that young girl but you don’t seem to be turned on when you are on the receiving end of the violence. Why do you think that is?”
Alex looked down without responding.
“The five of you are in a great deal of trouble.” Chuck said in a tone trying to make us think he felt bad for us.
“No buddy, you’re the one who’s in trouble.” Jesusa stated. “We have your tapes, CDs, hard drives, and some of your books. If you even think of coming after us this information will hit YouTube and every newspaper across the country.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Dan said.
Jesusa smiled and said with full confidence “Yes, yes I would actually. And, I would enjoy it.”
Petra grabbed some rope that had been lying on the table. I assumed its original intent was to be used in the amateur porn. Jesusa and Petra tied Dan, Chuck, and Alex to the same table where the girl had been sexually assaulted just minutes prior.
“Boys, I hope you are paying attention. This is what happens when you shit where you eat.” Jesusa said as she walked over to Chuck and grabbed a set of keys. She then motioned for all of us to leave.
“The five of you are nothing more than a bunch of fucking cunts.” Dan yelled. “No one cares about whores and strippers. Human garbage.”
“Listen to me little man,” Jesusa said looking at Dan but talking to all three men, “right now we are the ones with the gun.”
“You’re as good as dead.” Chuck said with anger.
Petra walked over to Chuck. “Just fucking try it.” She said and then punched Chuck in the face.
Chuck’s head went sideways for a moment while Petra hovered over him taking pride in her work. After a few moments Chuck lifted up his head. There was a drop or two of blood coming out of his nose. He then spit into Petra’s face.
“Fucker!” She yelled and hit him on the side of the face even harder. This time she got him in the side of the eye causing him to bleed more heavily now. She then stood up and started to walk away but she turned back to kick Chuck between the legs. Chuck grimaced in pain and let out a full moan.
Petra was my friend. I liked her most of the time. However, there were times that she became very abrasive. In fact, she became so abrasive that it would grind on my nerves. I would want to scream at her until my lungs bled. I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Most of the other girls who worked at the club agreed. The thing was, Petra was just so damn intimidating and nobody ever wanted to tell her what she was doing wrong.
“You’re nothing but property, a product.” Chuck said lifting up his head then glaring at Petra. “You allowed yourself to become a product. You deserve everything you get.”
Jesusa motioned Petra and me to follow her out to the bar area. Jaymee was standing next to the young Mexican woman who was sitting at a table.
Jesusa and Petra then went back to Dan’s office just off the storeroom. Each of the women emerged from the office with a hard drive. Jaymee joined the two women for a second trip, when they came back they were both carrying piles of paperwork and files.
We all loaded up as much as we could carry and walked outside. It took three trips to get everything.
“Our insurance policy,” Jesusa stated.
Jesusa grabbed the rest of the rope and walked outside behind the club. One by one we all followed her. We were like little ducks following a mother on an angry rampage. Even the young Mexican woman had joined us.
I was still carrying the gun, afraid to put it down. On some level, the gun made me feel a little safer, though, I’m not sure why. Truth was, I’m not sure I could have fired the gun at another human being. Even though the three men had just raped a young woman, I wasn’t sure I could take their lives.
About thirty feet from the club was a small house that Chuck owned. He said that it came with the club. It was the place some of the people who frequented the club would go afterhours. The dancers were not actually allowed back there. In fact, we had no idea what the house contained.
Using the keys Jesusa had taken from Chuck she unlocked the door and opened it. She was greeted by a semi-automatic pistol directly in her face. Everyone except for Jesusa stepped back. Jesusa merely pushed the barrel of the gun aside and then butted the man with her elbow in the fold of his neck, making him fall to the kitchen floor. She grabbed the gun out of his hands then handed the gun to me.
“Why the fuck do I keep getting the gun?” I asked tucking the pistol in the back of my pants then picking up the rifle and pointing it at the young man.
“Yeah?” asked Petra.
“Petra, you are much too angry to have a gun,” said Jesusa.
I liked Petra, but truth be told she was just a bitter, angry woman waiting to explode.
“Fine,” Petra said “whatever, I just wanted to know.”
I stood there with a gun pointing towards the man. He wore a red, white and black flannel shirt and he looked about seventeen years old. Hardly old enough to shoot a gun and it was doubtful he actually knew why he was holding it. Unlike Dan and Chuck, this young guy showed his fear. Sitting on the floor he lifted up his hands and was visibly shaken.
I could feel myself still shaking under the weight of the gun.
“Stay down on the floor.” Jaymee said calmly to the young man. She then looked over at me softly. Jaymee had empathy for what I was going through.
There was a strange smell in the house like the remnants of a family long since gone. It was the smell of basement mildew.
Jaymee watched the front door while Petra watched the entrance to the basement. None of us really knew what we were looking for. What we did know was that we wanted to get the hell out of there. I’m not sure if it was that I didn’t trust the situation or that I didn’t trust Jaymee and Petra. I knew just about anything could go wrong.
I looked over at the young man in the flannel shirt. A pool of urine started to form around him on the floor and he started to cry. I felt sorry for him.
Just then there was a loud banging noise from the basement. Shortly after that there was crying and chatter from multiple women’s voices. Then finally five people emerged from the basement. Jesusa led four women out. It was obvious that none of the four women were there voluntarily. They were upset and likely confused. Most of all they didn’t look as if they trusted us. They didn’t believe they were actually getting out of what I guessed was a basement prison.
Jesusa instructed Petra to tie up the young man then we all left.
Outside, the Mexican women looked around uncomfortably, as though they were hyper vigilant. It wasn’t that the women were ungrateful it was that they just didn’t know how to process the moment. We were all confused.
“We need a safe place for this stuff.” Petra said as she threw a hard drive into the back of my Jeep.
Still shaky I said. “Simone!”
Of all my high school friends, Simone was the one person that did not judge me for what I did for a living. She treated it like it was any other job. She never judged me or made me feel like I was less than human because of what I did. She simply treated me the same.
Simone ended up being one of a small handful of people I kept in touch with after high school. I liked spending time with her. She was so politically active and would talk me into doing things like walking a picket line or working at a soup kitchen over Christmas.
A few years after high school I started going with Simone to pro-choice rallies. In other words I started going with her to stand in front of clinics where people were trying to stop women from having abortions.
I remember going with Simone at least once a month for a few years. We would stand between the protesters and the women wanting to get services from the clinic. Oftentimes people would yell at us or throw things. It was almost never pleasant.
I would get so angry, standing there, looking over at the men and women who felt as though they could control other people’s bodies and lives. Who the hell did they think they were? Their assumption was that they could understand anyone’s situation or problem.
One day as we were getting ready to leave, there was a gunshot. I had been across the street getting us some coffee for the trip home. When I got back Simone was on her knees next to one of the clinic’s doctors. She had her hand against the doctor’s chest and blood was leaking out everywhere. I dropped the coffee and ran to help.
Simone was calm at first. She sat and talked with the doctor as she applied pressure to the wound. As the doctor’s eyes started to close and she started to fade away Simone started to breath heavier and she began to sweat. Simone was starting to panic.
Jaymee opened a case of beer and gave one to each of us, including the Mexican girls. Jesusa drank down her beer in three gulps.
“I have to bring these girls home.” Jesusa said.
“Honestly, I think we should be leaving town Jesusa.” I said.
“Yep,” Petra agreed.
“Home to Mexico.” Jesusa responded. “I’m going to bring them to my apartment and let them shower and get some decent clothes.” She paused. “Could we meet up in Fargo tonight at about seven?”
“We’ll meet at the truck stop on 94 heading out of Fargo.” Petra stated.
“Sounds like a plan.” Jaymee responded.
Driving away I looked at a Assault Cosmetics billboard on the side of the road opposite the club. The billboard read “Be the you only you can be.” There was a picture in pastel color of a woman applying face powder while jumping out of a plane. Two men stood at the door of the plane staring in wonder at the woman in the parachute.
In the safety of my car I felt my body flush with heat and I started to cry. Jaymee rubbed my shoulders from the backseat when she saw the tears start. I looked up into the rear-view mirror and sighed.
I tried to think about the events that had just happened. There were moments, absent interpretations floating in my head. I didn’t understand why the guys were doing what they were doing. Everything seemed out of place. Moreover, I didn’t understand why the Mexican girl was there. How did this young woman who spoke almost no English get to Minnesota?
Being a stripper had certainly never been a part of my career plans when I was a kid. I was a bit of a tomboy. I wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer or maybe even a banker. I wanted to be rich and change the world.
I dropped out of high school at seventeen years old and moved to Fargo, North Dakota, a little under an hour away from my hometown. I worked for a while at a clothing store but made almost nothing. I then tried waitressing position. I did this for a few months until Chuck walked into the restaurant where I was working.
Chuck was a very well-dressed man who liked to throw money around. He told me how much money I could be making at a strip club called The Grind. He was the manager and said he would like to give me a chance to work at his club. He took me out for dinner and drinks all the while telling me I was the most beautiful woman he had ever met. He gave me gifts and made me feel special.
It wasn’t something I was excited to do or even something I wanted to do. However, I did think I could do much better than the fifty dollars in tips I made a day at the restaurant. I just wanted to not have to struggle for a while.
My first night at The Grind I made five hundred dollars. The next night I made seven hundred. Within a few weeks I was making twelve to fifteen hundred in one night. The money was awesome.
Some of the money I made was spent on cocaine. I wasn’t a super heavy user, but it helped me keep my figure. It was an investment in my career.
Eventually, The Grind was shut down. The owners had been using the club to launder money. Inside, I think everyone who worked there knew something funny was going on. About a month later a new club opened in Fargo but none of the dancers from The Grind got hired there. They wanted new talent, younger talent, fresher talent.
I ended up following Chuck back to Lake Carlos and stripping for the guys around town, some of whom I went to high school with. The money was still good, but wasn’t as good as it had been in Fargo. To supplement my income I started to sell cocaine as well as pot.
Drinking my third beer I drove my Jeep into Simone’s driveway. I couldn’t help thinking about what Chuck had said. He really did think of us that way, he felt we were a product, no different than a magazine or a shirt. We were something to be marketed and to make money off of. What he said made me realize, he really did think I got what I deserved. But now, he got what he deserved.
Full Version of 13 Angry Women set to be released at the end of February
J. Collin on Smashwords http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/happyacres
Also, look to the Happy Acres Blog for updates blog.happyacres.ca