Chapter 6 Life Underground

CASSANDRA ~*~ In the weeks since I came ‘down here’, as I like to refer to it, I have learned several essential lessons. First, I learned that I hated high heels. Seriously, from the very first week my feet were sore and blistered and if I ever got out of here I would never be wearing heels again. Sneakers for life. Secondly, I learned that everyone was predictable. I knew that in Christiano’s world, these men were the best of the crop. High class and essential big shots and yet… they were all pigs. Every trip to the table was the same thing, they would glance at me with little interest, and upon recognizing a face they had not seen before, they would look at me again, scan my body up and down, lean back on their chair casually, and grin. A disgusting, smug grin. Like they thought I was just going to fall at their feet with that stupid *ss smile. They would search my wrists and ankles for the magic bracelet that granted them access, and their face would fall momentarily when they saw I had none. Moments later, they’d get a second wind and glance at a pair of earrings or ring, and again, their face would falter. “You new here baby?” They would always ask, and I would always glance at their waist, soak up the image of their gun attached firmly to it, fantasize about smashing a glass over their head, know that there were a few dozen others with the same shiny revolver, and instead, I would force a big smile and nod. Thirdly, I learned that everyone has a price. I had a price. If you had asked me I would if I’d ever put on a pair of lingerie and walked around in front of roomful after roomful of strange men and criminals, I think the answer would have been obvious. My price was my life. But as I caught clips of conversations here and there as I worked, I realized that people would sell their souls to the devil for much less. Christiano taught me this very valuable lesson. Everyone can be bought. And he proved it. He bought his friends, bought off friends of his enemies, and even bought off more legal administrators than I would have been able to track. And lastly, I learned that maybe, just perhaps, I wouldn’t do anything for the story. I was leaning over the bar, collecting the napkins that I Had forgotten when I’d gotten the drinks. I wasn’t the best at this whole waitress thing. I had admittedly tried it when I was in college, but I’m not very coordinated and as it turns out, I’m not too great with customers either. I had ended up instead managing to score a job in the library at the school and had spent most of my working hours with my nose between old newspapers. I felt a pair of hands on my waist. I jumped at the surprise and then sighed. Not another one. “Thirsty?” I asked turning around and holding a drink out to him with a nice, big, likely unconvincing fake smile. The idea of tips hadn’t been worth a pleasant attitude with my previous serving experience, but the idea of my life being on the line was an entirely different story. I vaguely recognized the offender. He’s been at the table with Christiano and a few of the other men occasionally. He was, well, actually very good-looking. The complete epitome of dark, tall, and handsome. Built with perfect teeth, too. He had amazingly dark eyes that twinkled as he looked me up and down. Under different circumstances, say, if I were out with some friends for a girls' night and I caught sight of him in a bar, I could drool over him all night. However, today was not any other night, this was not any old bar, I wasn’t hanging out with my female friends, and I was certainly not drooling. He put his stinky hands back on my hips. “I’ll say.” “Oh, I'm erm, not, what is it? Pink?” “That’s okay baby.” I raised an eyebrow. Where was he getting at? It didn’t matter whether I was or not, he’d still have me. I had to fight, hard, not to gag or roll my eyes at him. Somehow, I succeeded. “I have to get these napkins to those gentlemen over there,” I said in the sweetest voice I could muster, even at my efforts it sounded sour. Before I could escape, he reached past me and planted both hands on the bar behind me, trapping me in place. “Kate,” he called out, and another girl came quickly to us. They were both looking at me now, waiting for me to explain further. “I, uh-“ I hesitated and then held the napkins up, “Need to take these to that table-” “I got it,” Kate said with a broad smile, she took the napkin and kissed my new friend on the cheek before disappearing. “What’s your name?” It didn’t come out at all like a question. More of a demand because he knew I had no choice in telling him. “Case,” “Cassie?” “No. Just Case.” He grinned, “Why haven’t I seen you around, just Case?” “I’m new.” Obviously. He took his hands away from the counter and back to my hips. I looked around the room briefly, searching for the one person I usually avoided. Christiano. Much to my dismay, he was nowhere to be found. “Listen…” I said and gently put my hands on his wrist, trying to pry his hands away from me. “Marco.” He filled in for me but didn’t follow my lead in moving his hands away. “You seem like a nice guy,” I stated, his grin widened. “But I’m not here for that sort of thing.” Comically in my head, I added but if you’d like to do an exclusive interview… “Shh, it’s okay.” He said and brought his hands up from my hips and up to my waist. “It’s not okay. Now if you’d please-” “Marco,” another guy called from behind him and immediately, his hands fell from me. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this one short,” Marco said with obvious disappointment. “But I’m sure we’ll see each other again, Miss Just Case.” He winked then turned, as he walked away. Whew. I scowled as he and the other fellow who I’d not even cared to throw a glance at stalked off. I let out a deep breath. I was feeling slightly shaken and picked up a tray of drinks that had been set on the bar and was waiting to be delivered.