Chapter Seven:
There's Something About Rosie

Trent watched as the sun went down over the small city of Roanoke, Virginia and tossed his cigarette on the parking lot. It was almost eight o'clock and his ex-wife, Olivia, had still not called him back about this child support claim she was taking out against him. Glancing over he saw that Rosie McNally, one of the dancers and his friend, was standing next to him finishing her cigarette. "What's wrong, Trent?" she asked softly. Trent looked down and let out a labored sigh. Reaching into his shirt pocket he removed the pack of Marlboro's and took out another smoke, but before he could light it Rosie had taken it from him. "No more." She spoke with a firm tone that made the stout man reconsider.

"Aw, I'm sorry" he replied dully, "I'm thinking about my brother's hearing and that bitch of an ex-wife I have who hasn't had the courtesy to call me back yet. She knows it ain' my fucking kid and she knows I ain' doing much work right now." Rosie listened with a friendly ear. That was what Trent had liked about her so much. She was young, sweet, and when she listened to someone talk about their troubles you knew she wasn't blowing you off. "I don't know what to do." he continued, reaching in his jeans for his lighter and struck it a few times before it lit. It was a habit fed on by stress and one hell back on regularly. "What do you think?" he asked Rosie who was now clutching her leather coat close to her body.

Rosie mulled over the question for a few moments before answering. Trent watched as the wheels cranked in her brunette head and smiled to himself. "I think you need a better woman in your life," she replied finally, "but then, but then you and I both could." She finished the last of her cigarette and watched as Trent blew out a cloud of smoke. "You should know better than that." she noted, eyeing the cigarette in his hand. Trent laughed so hard he coughed and looked at the cigarette in his fingers. "But you won't listen to me, so what's the point?" Trent could tell she was becoming frustrated and dropped the second smoke before he had a chance to even take more than two drags on it.

"I should quit," Trent replied hating that she was getting on him for his smoking when she smoked almost as much as he did, "but you should, too. And you're beyond right about us both needing a new woman in our lives. Speaking of which, how's things with Cheryl?" Trent had never thought much of Cheryl, because well...he wasn't dating her - Rosie was. Rosie faked a smile and drew her coat even closer. For a moment Trent wondered if it could be drawn closer or if it would cause her beautiful and perky breasts to explode. It was an image that was hard to erase from his mind as he watched his friend shift her weight in an attempt to keep warm. "There's another coat in my car if you need one, Rose." Rosie smiled, but said nothing.

"Thank you, Trent, but I'm alright. Break is almost over as it is." She finally replied as Trent shifted all of his weight to the right and started walking back to the front door. "You're too kind, Trent." she said as she walked through the front door and tried to hold the second set of doors for him. "But too much of a gentleman to let a lady hold a door for you, huh?" Trent smiled boyishly and went through. Once through the door he noticed that Simon was on the bar tonight and felt a wave of relief wash over him. He hated when Kevin had bar because nothing would ever be sent his way when he needed a shot or two. "Have a drink on me."

In the distance Trent could hear Lady GaGa telling him that she wanted his loving, she wanted his revenge, and the two of them could write a bad romance. "You wish," he said aloud to GaGa, "or I do. I haven't quite been able to figure that out." Sitting down at the bar he saw Simon slide over to him. "The usual." He spoke to the man. Simon bounced off to make a Gin and Tonic as Trent spun on the chair and watched Rosie climb on stage and do her thing. Groups of men would hoot and holler at her, never knowing that she could have cared two fucks about them. She hadn't been with a man since she was sixteen and decided that women were much better lovers in bed. "Fools." Trent said to himself and directed his attention back to Simon and the bar.

As the music carried on his mind was directed to the strange deaths that had been happening in his club. It was something that he knew about, but didn't allow himself to reflect upon too much. It wasn't his place to worry about such things. Still, it bothered him all the same. "Gin and Tonic," Simon said resting a glass in front of Trent before asking, "anything else you want?" he asked. Trent thought about it for a moment and went about nursing his drink. He could let Daniel cover for him a bit longer. Besides, if those two FBI men showed up again it would fall on Daniel to deal with them a second time. Mr. Michaels had made it clear that those two were not to be allowed back in unless they were coming in as paying customers. Bad for business, Trent had figured.

"Trent." came a familiar female voice from behind him. Trent spun around to see who it was and found himself face to face with Rachel Wilson, one of the dancers. "You look like you could use a friend. I know I could." she said softly taking a seat next to him. Simon showed up as if on command and asked what she wanted. "Sex on the Beach, if you don't mind." She smiled, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and directed her attention back to Trent who was still nursing his Gin and Tonic. "You hear about Danielle?" she asked, her voice breaking with emotion as she spoke her dead lover's name.

"I have," he said sullenly, "I don't know how to express how sorry I am about that. I heard the FBI was looking now, though. Some small comfort. But Elliott says they ain' supposed to be allowed back in. That's confusing." he mused taking a sip of his tonic. Rachel leaned close and offered Trent a hug before directing her attention to Rosie on the stage. "Rosie's looking." Rachel laughed so hard Simon thought she was crying and brought a box of tissues with her drink. She waved the tissues back, but took the drink with a grin. "What you drinking?"

"Sex on the Beach. Why are you trying to hook me and Rosie up?" Trent could see that it had hurt Rachel's feelings more than he had meant to. He shrugged and continued to make love to his drink. "I know you mean well, Trent, but Danielle's body isn't even cold yet. God, it's difficult even saying that." she muttered now turning her attention to the drink in her hands. Trent watched as she traced the rim of the glass and fumbled with removing a cigarette from her purse. Trent offered his lighter and smiled a weak smile. "Thank you."

And like that, she had left him. Trent found himself once again alone with his thoughts and his drink. As his mind drifted he checked to see if Heather had called. Nothing. Cursing her under his breath, he spun back around in his chair as he heard Nine Inch Nail's "Closer" come over the speakers. This was the one act that Rosie did that drove him crazy and made him secretly wish that she wasn't a dyke. He listened as the music grew louder, the beat more rhythmic, and could feel the intensity of the crowd becoming almost too much to handle. Help me...I've got no soul to sell, help me...the only thing that works for me...help me get away from myself - I wanna fuck you like an animal...echoed through the room as Rosie started her dance.

Slowly, Rosie brought her hands to the shaft in the middle of the stage and wrenched her hands around it. Trent could see her knuckles becoming white from the tension from her grip. Lowering her body, inch by inch, she would reveal a little more. First she rolled her fingers along the delicate flesh on her breasts, tracing the edges of the red straps, teasing with each new riff. Trent could hear the other men becoming wild, as they always would, and watched as she bit her lower lip and let the first side of her bra strap fall. "Shit." Trent whispered so low even he had trouble hearing himself. It didn't take long before the second fell along her delicate skin and nothing was holding her bra up but the clasp in the back.

Moments later he watched as she reached behind herself and unclasped the bra and the room roared with intensity. Trent almost spit up his drink, but was able to catch himself before he blew everything all over himself. He hadn't noticed how perfect her breasts were until now, and looking at them, there was absolutely nothing a man could find fault with...or a woman for that matter. "Mother of God." he said to himself as she dropped to her knees and crawled forward. Money flew out of the men's hands as she collected it slowly, teasingly, and drew back from the front of the stage. Trent knew that he would have to hurry to the back if he wanted to see her before she went back out in twenty minutes. He had a few things he wanted to talk to her about.

Shuffling beyond the breathing throngs of desperation and sweat Trent made his way to the back room where Rosie was. As he approached the door to her dressing - or undressing, depending on how you looked at it - room he hesitated. It was strangely silent. "Rosie?" he called out and waited for an answer. Several seconds later he heard her shout something, he thought it might have been to hold on a moment, and then some shuffling. Shifting on his weight he waited.

As he waited he felt his cell vibrating. "Hello," he said into the cell, "what do you fucking want?" The voice on the other end of the line seemed to only frustrate him more. "You can tell your cunt of a sister I don't care what her deal is. I'm not paying for her bastard son from some douche I don't even know." He was shouting now and hung up before he said something worse. Tina had a way of bringing out his dark side even more than her good for nothing sister Olivia.

"Come in!" Rosie shouted as Trent was about to call Olivia directly. He knew it would be better to blow off some steam with Rosie than it would be to verbally abuse his ex wife for being a total slut. "I'm finished." Trent opened the door and entered. The room was a bright color red, with a small couch and vast floor to ceiling mirror. He often wondered how Rosie had managed to end up with such a lavish room, but she was the star attraction. Michaels liked to keep her happy and she kept him rolling in the money. It was, Trent figured, a fair trade. "Why hello, Trent." she said with a smile that brightened up the already bright room.

Trent looked down at the floor and tried to find his words. Rosie walked over to a small cart and poured him a Gin. Handing him the glass he took it from her delicate hand and sat on her couch. Resting the glass against his temple he sighed. "Olivia." he said finally. Rosie sat down next to him and stroked his crew cut hair. "She's being a total bitch and having her cunt - sorry, I know how much you hate me saying that about a woman, but she is one - of a sister call me. But that isn't why I'm here." Taking a sip he rested the glass on the table next to the couch.

"That's so sad," Rosie said touching him gently on the cheek, "I'm really sorry about that." Trent nodded and rested his head on her shoulder. Rosie smiled and continued to coo at her friend. "Tell you what. I'm almost off and you should be. If not, Daniel can take over, we can take some time out and we can bitch about those bitches that drive us crazy." she said resting her hand on Trent's thigh. Trent shifted his weight and took another drink from his Gin; this time it was a gulp. "Or we could stay here and have something to eat." Rosie wore a grin that Trent had never seen before.

As Trent went to stand up, Rosie tilted her head to the left and forced him down. Straddling him she held her hands against his shoulders so he couldn't move. Trent tried to scream but it was no use. Rosie's smile had become a mouthful of razors as she threw her head down across his neck. Trent could feel the warmth of his own blood trickle down his neck, and the sudden chill as her tongue lapped it up with a vigor he had never seen or felt before. "Help me..." he managed to choke out, but it was too late. He could feel the life escaping from him as his friend sucked it right out of him.