Page 25 of Waiting for Redemption

“We can, but you’re still gonna tell me about it,” he says, filling our glasses again. I narrow my gaze trying to figure a way out of this conversation, but he looks back at me expectantly and once my eyes lock on his hypnotic green ones, I cave.

“Fine.” I sigh, rubbing my hands along the blue jeans covering my thighs. “Bethanyand I went to college together. We were actually friends at one point if you can believe it. We joined the same sorority our freshman year and clicked instantly. I received an academic scholarship right out of high school and was amodelstudent. I never missed class, kept a GPA that would make any grandma proud, a realteacher's petaccording to everyone else. I didn’t mind it so much at first, hearing the whispered remarks about what agoody-goodyI was, but when we would go to parties and I would leave early to make sure I had time to study or be up on time for my classes, people started to make fun of me for it.A lot.” I huff out a sad laugh thinking about how immature it was.

“Anyways, the beginning of our junior year there was this one guy that I had liked from a distance for a while–”

“Oh, so you were stalking him a little,” Tank interrupts playfully.

“Do you want the story to be over?” I threaten, rolling my eyes at him.

“No…Proceed.” He waves his hand for me to continue.

“SO… he showed up at one of the parties our sorority house was throwing one night, I introduced myself and one thing led to another and we started dating shortly after. He was… amazing, honestly. But, before too long I let myself get completely consumed by him. I was staying out later, which made me late to class almost every day. I wouldn’t study as much because I was so wrapped up in spending time with him and my grades started to drop severely. By the end of the school year, my GPA dropped so low I lost my scholarship. My parents didnothold back on telling me how disappointed they were in me and how irresponsible I had been to let that happen. I couldn’t even blame them because they were right. I come from a lower class family and there wasnoway we could pay for my college tuition outright so… I had to come up with a way to pay for it myself.”

We’ve officially taken a break from doing shots, and I’m nervously playing with a loose string hanging from the rips in my jeans as I gather the courage to finish the story.

“One day while I was hunkered down job searching and brainstorming with some of my roommates and boyfriend, he made the veryloudsuggestion that I startdancing.” I air quote the word. Glancing up through my eyelashes I see Tank looking at me so intensely, his jaw ticking as he swallows hard, listening closely to every word.

“He told you to start stripping?” he asks flatly. I nod my head, scrunching my nose remembering how the conversation went.

“Basically… It was so weird, you know? He told me about this place he and his friends liked to frequent—a comment I did my best to ignore at the time—and he said I would be great at it. We all laughed because we thought he was joking, but later when it was just the two of us he gave me the address and told me I should check it out. I couldn’t believe that he was so okay with it, ya know? How was he so casual about letting his friends see me like that, let alone anyone else. He had never acted so…doucheybefore. I told him that he was crazy and that I would find another way, but once that seed of information was planted and I found out how much I could be making, the idea was hard to get rid of. A few months of looking for another solution and alotof confidence-building later, I actually went for it. Next thing I knew I was dancing atBad Bunnies,thisveryprestigious strip club in Las Vegas. It wasn’t the club he had told me about though, and I never actually told him I started stripping. I didn’t tell anyone. I wasn't very fond of the idea that he and his friends might show up, so I just kept it to myself.” I can’t help but smile when I notice Tank smirking his quiet approval.

“However, I later found out thatBethanyhad walked past the door the day he mentioned it the first time and ended up telling anyone who would listen at one of our parties that I was stripping. She didn’t even know that it was true but needless to say when my boyfriend—my very drunk at the time boyfriend—heard about it he wasnothappy. I tried to tell him he was being unreasonable because he’s the one who told me to do it in the first place, but he wouldn’t hear it. He grabbed me by the wrists and pinned me against a wall while yelling at me, telling me what a whore I was, and ended up leaving a bruise on me for days after from where he was holding onto me. I was so heartbroken, I never in a million years would have thought he would treat me that way. Of course, that night was the end for us. I broke up with him and told him not to contact me again and lucky for me he listened—because I never heard from him after that.” I sniffle, wiping away a stray tear from my cheek. I feel so silly still crying over something that’s nothing more than a distant memory most days. But talking about it for the first time out loud must have hit new depths of my emotions.

“You know, he’sreallyfucking lucky you haven’t said his name yet,” Tank grumbles, grabbing his shot glass and filling it up.

“Why? You gonna grab your scissors?” I choke out through my sniffles, as he shoots me an unamused glare.

“It wouldn’t be for his hair, I can assure you of that,” he bites out before tossing his shot back. “So the mermaid stripper on your arm? There’s more to it than what you told me before,” he says softly, reminding me of the conversation that really opened the door to this friendship.

“Yeah.” I smile, “Even though how I started wasn’tideal. I really did love it once I started. I would feel so strong and confident when I danced. It was a way for me to be in control and there was something so empowering in that. I always felt like I was…”

“A mermaid in water? You felt like you were where you belonged,” he finishes for me. I look up at him and see the understanding in his eyes. There’s no hint of judgment or disapproval for my choices. I feel a lump forming in my throat because no one hasevergotten that before, butof course, Tank does.

“So, what happened next?” he asks, bringing out conversation back around.

“I might need a refill for this one,” I say, shaking my glass in front of him. He fills it up and I tip it back, immediately feeling the confidence to bare my soul to him.

I guess we’re doing this.

CHAPTER10

TANK

I can barely seestraight after hearing how this guy treated her. If she slips up with his name, the missing persons board at the local market is about to have another flier added to it. Thinking about him putting his hands on her is an anger all of its own, but him calling her a whore because she started doing somethinghetold her to do in the first place, makes me want to bury him with my own two hands.

“I stopped going to parties, only danced on weekends, and graduated at the top of my class with an almost perfect GPA. I left that school and never spoke to any of the people I had once been so close to, again. Until tonight…” She rolls the shot glass between her fingers and I take it upon myself to fill it halfway. It’s been a heavy night, and I’m sure she could use it.

“What did you major in anyways?” I ask, realizing she never mentioned that either.

“Psychology.” She grins to herself before lifting her gaze to meet mine, as a memory resurfaces from the day this friendshipreallybegan.

“Do you have any idea what kind of permanent damage that will do to you?”

I may not have known the extent of it, but she sure as hell did and was adamant about not letting it happen to me. That was the day I knew I needed her around. She wasn’t gonna put up with my shit and was gonna give me hell if I tried.

“Do you remember the day you followed me out back? I was having a bad moment and punching the wall and you came out and slapped me?” She tilts her head and her eyes go wide.

“Vividly,” she scoffs, setting her shot glass down.

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