A new client

**Sadie’s POV**

My stalker was back. I could feel it in my bones as I stared at the package that made my skin crawl.

I thought it was finally over after my stalker had gone into hiding for the past year, and now he was back.

Those last months had been like hell; I swear I felt eyes on me constantly, with different horrid messages and photos being sent to me.

That’s why I used my last savings to move to this new house and become untraceable. But his package was here.

He had found me again, and the realization sent a cold shudder running down my spine.

“What’s up with you, Sadie? Aren’t you leaving?” Sherry’s voice broke through my dark thoughts as I inhaled a deep, sharp breath.

Looking over to Sherry, who was now standing with a towel wrapped around her body, her eyes glaring at me,

I turned back to the package once more, letting out a shaky breath as I walked down to pick it up, closing the door behind me.

I took it from our small porch. I tried to act like I wasn’t affected by the package—instead, I didn’t dare look at it.

Thankfully the siren of the garbage truck passed by, so I threw it into the vehicle before walking into the streets and down the narrow steps to the train tunnel of New York City.

I was late for work anyway, and thinking about the stalker was sure to pull my spirits down. So instead I focused on getting to my workplace.

I used the dark alley, which was familiar most times, but today I could feel fear threading through the pit of my stomach.

I walked through the dark alley to the back door; a neon red sign that read “EXIT” was my way in.

As I pushed the door open, entering through a dark, windowless hallway, a slow thumping beat echoed through the walls.

I passed by the main stripper bar to see women on poles, clad in nothing but net clothing that left little to the imagination.

But looking at them felt freeing and empowering in a way, knowing I didn’t have the bravery to do that.

Shaking my head, I turned left toward the women’s changing room.

I carefully arranged my things into my locker, taking out the lingerie and garments.

I pinned my hair up and paired it with cherry-pink lipstick to look seductive.

It was more than a miracle that I had found this job—especially since I was nineteen. And knowing this job was at a stripper and sex club was more than taboo for me.

But I was nothing more than a server who gave out drinks, and I wasn’t touched by the customers as per the rules unless I wanted to.

Although their sleazy eyes always held a lustful look when they looked at me, I never gave them the time of day and never took up their offers to get into their beds.

“Oh my god, Sadie!” Molly-Jo’s voice echoed as I turned to look at Molly. Her pixie-cut blonde hair was a signature look, paired with her cherry-red lipstick.

She was dressed to the nines, with barely anything covering her curves—and that’s how she liked it, being the top performer on the top floor. And weirdly enough, she was my friend here.

“I’m sorry I’m late; I had a small delay, Jo,” I tried to lie. Tried to shove back that fear inside me. And tried not to look back at my locker—

And toward the envelope that felt heavy in my bag, knowing who it might be from.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re safe,” Molly-Jo cut in, bringing my gaze back to her as she smiled, pushing a hand through my curly brunette hair.

“You’re looking amazing as always. My regulars want you to serve their drinks. Okay, and since you’re my bestie, I made sure the tips are in your name.” She winked.

And I was more than grateful. Jo knew my situation. She knew that I needed the money.

But now I was more than desperate. I knew that my father had used my college funds, so I would work twice as much to earn it back.

I needed the money to finally get into school. Maybe then my stalker would never find my new address when I moved into the dorms and lived my new life.

Although I had kept my mom’s dreams and hopes for me stagnant for over a year, I knew now I wanted to attend school after summer break was over. I had taken too much time off.

My money problems were so bad that Jo had suggested a sugar baby app to me.

But never in my nineteen years had I thought of that—giving my body to someone I didn’t know.

But I was desperate for money. Was I that desperate? No.

But I did need the funds to live in this town so my stalker wouldn’t find me. Although “they” would if they wanted to.

And I wasn’t thinking about just the stalker but ‘them’.

I recalled four pairs of dark grey eyes staring at me. My body held a sudden heat as I shuddered, taking a sharp breath and trying to push their faces out of my mind.

“Okay, let’s go,” I said to Jo with a short smile, following behind her as I reached for the bar.

My manager had already handed me six bottles of expensive alcohol and booze that Jo had coerced her clients to buy from me into my trolley, which I pushed.

While Jo’s uniform was a skimpy see-through dress, mine was more of a corset in the middle with a mini skirt that showed off my ass, paired with fishnets and red heels.

My perky breasts were cupped nicely, showing enough skin to draw their eyes to me, but the yellow tag on me showed I was a worker and not to be touched.

I followed her up to the second floor. We called it the top floor. This was where clients came for private dances and even more sex.

There were private rooms held for clients who wanted more than just seeing the dancers on the main floor.

A blush spread across my cheeks when we passed two rooms, hearing moans, knowing it was from one of our girls.

But I pushed myself to concentrate on the room I entered with Jo.

I put on my best smile, serving them drinks and making sure they bought enough for me to get tips. And when I was done, I walked out ready to get refills for the next customers.

My eyes held confusion as I was stopped by Mona. “What is it?” I asked, and she raised her eyes, studying me from head to toe.

“The VIPs in room 320 want to see you, and bring the drinks up quickly,” Mona said to me.

“Um, are they regulars?” I stared at her in confusion as she rolled her eyes. Who was I kidding—320 was for VVIP clients.

“I don’t know what strings you pulled to steal such rich clients to yourself, but watch your back,” she muttered as she passed me by.

I was still confused by the sudden call from VIP clients! But this was an opportunity.

So I raced back down to the bar, ready to fill my cart with bottles and drinks that other clients had emptied.

But I couldn’t help the feeling growing inside me that something behind door 320 was something I was supposed to run away from.

As if something unexpected was waiting for me.