Dammit. She did some quick double-stepping to get herself back in time with the music. Concentrating on her routine, she danced back and forth half-heartedly trying to entice the men with her body. The bouncer was positioned on Monica's side of the stage, providing no protection for her from the horny fraternity.

"Let's go ladies," another frat boy shouted. "We want tits and we want them now!" His buddies around him took up the chant, pounding their fists on the tables.

"We want tits! We want tits!"

Rick ran across the stage and down the steps to reach the frat boys. Things quieted down quickly after that and Crystal was able to resume her routine. Looking over to Monica, she nodded and listened for the right spot in the music. In synch both women lowered the zippers on their spandex tops, revealing bare skin beneath. Normally Crystal would draw this part out, teasing the audience with what was to come. Tonight however, drawing out the set was not something she had any interest in doing. The jackets were whipped off and tossed behind them on the stage, followed quickly by the spandex pants. Monica moved to thee.g.of the stage, kneeling down before a table of middle-aged men. Dollar bills quickly found themselves wedged under the thin strap of her G-string. The frat boys were hooting and waving bills as well but Crystal didn't want to go anywhere near them, choosing instead to go to the front of the stage and do her shimmy there. The boys howled their disappointment and began pounding the tables again. She looked over to Monica, hoping the older woman would take pity on her and entertain the frat boys but even the extra tip money wasn't enough to get the redheaded stripper to move to Crystal's side of the stage.

Fuck. She knew Rick was somewhere amongst the sea of red-shirted boys and hoped he would be enough to keep them under control. Plastering a fake smile to her lips, Crystal hesitantly went over to them. A beefy guy with his hair buzzed almost completely off leaned over the rail and held a five dollar bill out. Kneeling down in front of him, she shimmied and wiggled, making her breasts wave and bounce. She offered him a hip side of her G-string to slip the bill into but he had other ideas. He hooked his fingers around the string and tugged hard, jerking her off the stage. Crystal fell onto the table, beer bottles wedged against her back. It took a second for the pain of the cigarette against her back to override the painful squeeze of her nipple by the jock's fingers. She kicked and jerked wildly, causing him to pinch the tender flesh. "Son of a bitch!" he screamed when her heeled foot made contact with his ribs.

Focusing more on stopping the burning pain in her back than where her foot landed, Crystal never saw the backhand coming. Hard knuckles and an oversized class ring connected with a resounding slap. "You fucking bitch!"

Strong hands pulled her off the table and away from the drunken man. The lights went up, drowning the room in brightness and the music stopped. Crystal noticed none of it, her eyes closed tight against the reality of what was happening. Voices were shouting, mixing together into a deafening din. Hands were squeezing her shoulders, touching her face. Her left nipple throbbed from the painful pinching, helping blend the past and present together until Crystal found herself unable to distinguish between the two. Visions of her father's face floated behind closed lids until, dizzy from the sensory overload, Crystal let the welcoming darkness take her.

She woke up to find herself laying on the couch in the dressing room. Monica was sitting on a chair at the table, reading a romance novel. Oh God, what happened? she thought to herself, bringing her hand up to rub her eyes. "Ow." She winced at the pain on her face.

"Crys? You awake? God girlfriend, you had us worried. Rick said if you didn't wake up by the end of the next set we'd have to call an ambulance." "That was big of him," she mumbled, carefully touching the tender area on the right side of her mouth. "What happened?"

"I'm not sure. I heard the commotion but by the time I got over there you were passed out or unconscious or whatever. Rick had them bring you in here. He had to put the wrestlers on early and told them they have to do extra matches." It was then that Crystal noticed Monica was dressed in her street clothes. "You'd think the least the cheap bastard could do is pay me half of the tips I'm going to lose for the rest of the night but no, you know what that son of a bitch does? He tells me if I want to work the rest of the night I have to be one of the wrestlers."

She sat up, inhaling sharply as she did so, the burn stinging. "Yeah I guess I probably do look like a fright now." Even without a mirror she knew her lip was swollen and bloody. "Can you hand me a washcloth or something?"

"Sure girlfriend," Monica replied, grabbing a cloth and heading behind a rack of clothes to get to the small sink. "I guess Mister know-it-all doesn't think I can go on solo." She reappeared from behind the clothes and handed Crystal the wet cloth. "Fuck him. I'll take advantage of having a Friday night off and go home and relax. You gonna be all right?"

"Ow, yeah I'm sure." She pressed the cloth gingerly around her lip, gently wiping the excess blood away. "I'm not spending the next year paying off an emergency room bill for a bloodied lip." Standing up slowly, Crystal walked over to the dressing table and slumped into the chair. "Shit. Looks like someone used me for a punching bag."

"Oh man, Crys, what happened to your back?"

"I landed on a cigarette, I think." She turned in her seat, craning her neck to see the blackened, ash-covered burn. She hissed at the sight of it. "Ooh that looks nasty."

"I think you need to have someone take a look at that," Monica said.

"No. I'll just soak in the tub when I get home. It'll clean it right up." She looked in the mirror to see the redhead's expression. "Don't worry. I've been through worse than this, I promise." I've never had a flashback in the middle of performance before, though, she admitted to herself. "Listen, Mon. Could you do me a favor? Wait until I'm done getting dressed and walk me to my car, will ya?" She cast a glance at the mirror, noting the purpling bruise forming around her left aureole. Other mirrors, other bruises flashed before her mind's eye, making her feel even more unsettled. "Please? I'll only be few minutes."

"Boy, you're really shook up, aren't ya?" Monica asked, setting her purse down on the table. "Of course I'll stay and walk you to your car. Where are you parked?"

"Over by the dumpster. You know they haven't fixed that light yet."

"Of course not. While it's not working they're not paying as much in electricity." She reached into the cubicle reserved and pulled out Crystal's clothes. "Here you go, girlfriend."

"Thanks." She took the shirt and, careful of her injured lip, pulled it down over her head. Next came getting it past her tender breast without rubbing against the cigarette burn on her back. Monica gratefully noticed her predicament and helped her get the shirt on. Crystal pulled her pants and sneakers on, stuffing her socks in her pockets. The noise from the patrons filtered through the wall, reminding her that she was only a few feet from where she'd just been assaulted. "Did Rick throw that guy out?" The pause was enough to give her the answer. "Of course."

"Crys, remember that guy is there with all his buddies. If Rick throws him out the others will leave too."

"Yeah yeah, I've heard it before." She angrily pulled a cigarette out of her pack, bringing it to her lips only to stop and move it to the opposite side. "I'm ready."

They walked out the side entrance and over to where Crystal's car was parked.

"Thanks again, Monica. You sure you don't want a ride to your car?"

"No, I'm right over here." She pointed at the minivan parked several spots down the row. "How long you think it'll be before you can come back?"

"It'll be a few days before the swelling goes down but with makeup, who knows. I'll give you a call." Looking at the brick building, a haze of smoke coming out the screened windows, Crystal felt her stomach churn at the thought of entering it again. Without thought, her right hand came up to cover her injured left breast. She closed her eyes and leaned against her car, hoping the night air would clear her mind.

"You really sure you're okay?" Monica asked.

"Yeah, sorry. Just tired I guess." She opened the car door. "Beep me Monday. I'll let you know what's going on." She stepped into the car and waited until she heard Monica's car door shut before starting her own engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

Crystal drove up the busy main avenue of the city, more than once looking around to make sure her car doors were locked. She didn't turn on the radio, preferring instead the solitude allowed by the silence. Her lip throbbed as did her back and breast, refusing to let her forget what happened that evening. She pulled into the brightly lit parking lot of the liquor store, noting that there were still time before they closed. The need to reach oblivion became stronger with each passing minute. A shortage of cash allowed her only one pint of whiskey but that didn't stop her from opening it the second she returned to the car.

"Dammit." She took another swallow, feeling the booze burning its way down her throat. "Why the fuck does this have to keep happening?" She pounded her heel on the steering wheel. "I'm so tired of this, so fucking tired." The sting of tears burned her eyes but she refused to give in, instead starting the car and squealing tires as she sped out of the parking lot.

Chapter Fifth

Laura heard the door unlock and stopped typing. A quick glance at the clock in the lower right hand corner of her computer screen confirmed it was far too early for Crystal to be home. "Crystal?" she called, rising to her feet and opening her bedroom door.

"Yeah, it's just me." As she stepped onto the landing, Laura could easily see the puffed lips and broken skin. "There was an incident at the club tonight."

"Let's get you cleaned up." She guided Crystal into the bathroom, pretending not to notice the paper bag in the stripper's hand or the way it was covertly set down on the floor next to the toilet.

"I can"

"No argument," Laura said, cutting off the protest. "Whether you want to tell me what happened or not is up to you but I'm not going to let you let this go untreated." She opened the medicine cabinet and took out the peroxide, cotton balls, and antibiotic cream. "Here, sit on the toilet and tip your head back."

"Is it really that bad?"

"You don't want to get a scar, do you?" Holding a cotton ball over the sink, Laura soaked it with peroxide. "I have to clean it first to see how bad it really is. Hold still, this might sting."

"Yeouch!"

"I told you. Now hold still." Cotton ball after cotton ball was used to gently cleanse the area. "That looks pretty nasty."

"I think he was wearing a ring."

That explains the jagged looking cut, she thought to herself. "So you want to tell me what happened?"

"Mud wrestling, a drunken asshole and an even worse asshole for a club manager," Crystal sighed. "Easy."

"Sorry. I really think you could use a stitch here just to be on the safe side."

"No. I really don't want to have anyone look at it."

"Okay. I think I have some butterflies in the first aid kit. But you have to keep it covered with the ointment to keep it from scarring." She stopped wiping and gently cupped Crystal's chin with her fingers. You have such a pretty face

The thought entered her mind and almost passed her lips. "Let me get the butterfly."

After the bandage was in place and the bruised area treated, Laura stepped back to give it one last check. "There. I think that will take care of it. You'll have to keep putting the ointment on but I think it'll heal up fine." She began straightening things up.

"Laura?"

"Yes?" She turned to see Crystal looking at her nervously.

"Um there's another place," she began, standing up and turning her back to the writer. "I figured I'd soak in the tub and that would take care of it but "

"Let me see." To her surprise, Crystal began lifting her shirt. "Where is it?"

"On my back. I think I fell on an ashtray and got burned."

Laura knelt down until her face was level with the small of Crystal's back. She reached up and took over the task of lifting the shirt. There on the right shoulder blade was the burn. "Ooh."

"It is a burn, right?"