House of Sin: Part One Read online

  I arrived at the back entrance, killed the engine on my bike and slid off the seat in one motion. The bouncer, Blake, opened the door and gestured me in.

  ”Jack,” he said with a nod.

  Walking down the familiar hall I could hear the crowd. I passed a few familiar faces that glanced down at their watches. Then, there was a familiar bass line rattling the hall.

  They started with-out me, those fuckers!

  “Jack!” I was on the wing of the stage and about to join my mates but Kevin broke my attention. Kevin was our self-appointed manager. “They said if you didn’t make in time they would play the show without you, I’m happy to see you man, you had me worried.”

  What were they thinking? Things would get strange if I didn’t show up.

  Let’s let them sweat it out, I thought. Kevin passed me the wireless mic and motioned for me to walk on stage.

  I yelled in his ear, ”Tell Blake to fire a spotlight on H17 on my opening note!” I took off. I knew I had a couple of minutes to get to the seat I chose at random—it was Brad’s idea for the long bass intro.

  With the mic in my pocket I made my way to seat H17. There was a very innocent-looking girl sitting in the seat. I made my way over and passed by several people before I reached the spot, most of whom recognized me.

  “Jack, darling.”

  I smiled in reply to a familiar local vamp.

  “What the fuck, Willow?” I heard from somewhere near.

  I reached the spot. I only had a few measures before my cue, so I took in the sight of the stranger before me. She was beautiful, Miss H17, and looked like she didn’t belong here in a way. She was sitting politely next to her friend, who was decked out in some sort of leather outfit. With a glance it was obvious her leather friend dragged her here.

  Four more measures until my cue, I was standing over her and she looked up. Her leather-clad friend smiled with delight.

  Three measures—she clearly did not know who I was, so we just looked at each other for a moment. I had to take her in. Her pale skin looked soft, her eyes blue and innocent, her hair was blond and long. Beneath it all, a part of her was not there, she didn’t want to be there.

  Two more measures, I leaned in to try to explain that I needed her seat. The drums were building.

  One more measure, it was my only chance to say anything, I was crouching down, clearly it was a moment for me to say something but it was too late. The familiar snap of the snare at the peak of the climax stopped the melody. We were looking at each other and I smiled, the room was black for a moment. It was my cue, I turned around and put one foot on the chair in front of me, I pulled the mic from my back pocket like it was a blade, a single spot light shown on me. I closed my eyes, squeezed the mic and screamed so hard my body rattled. The band broke into a thundering release that the intro was begging for and the crowd sounded louder than a locomotive. I made my way back to the aisle, Miss H17 was standing and our eyes met briefly. She was smiling.

  Now it looked like she wanted to be there.

  Chapter Two

  There never is an encore. When the last song ends, the house lights go on and people stream out the door. The three of us don’t just wave and retire backstage. Instead, we walked off the front of the stage accepting drinks from our friends, smiling and laughing at nothing in particular. I was part of this crowd spilling out onto the main street in front of the theater—happy and buzzed. Brad and I were in our customary leather jackets, walking with drinks in hand.

  “You know, Jack, we were doing fine without you, isn’t that right, Gregg?” Brad looked over for Gregg’s support but Gregg just took a drag from his black cigarette and looked ahead. Gregg wasn’t a bad guy to have on your side, especially for this short walk to Madeline’s. Not everyone was going there but most of us were and a mob of drunken people walking down Main Street at midnight can come with problems—everyone either wanted to fight or fuck.

  Naturally I preferred the later but from time to time the former would find me. That is where Gregg could come in handy. He is a tough guy, and not a bad drummer.

  Brad and I grew up together and has also found comfort within the walls of Madeline’s. Sometimes I think a part of every man needs her and what she has to offer.

  Brad somehow had me in a headlock, half laughing and half yelling he said, “I’ve been carrying you too long, Willow, all that singing and guitar gets in the way of my bass!”

  I broke out of it and we stumbled over knocking into a couple girls. I suddenly found myself on my knees, looking at a tear in one girl’s black tights. My eye followed the tear to the shadow under her skirt. When I stood up from the pavement, I finally noticed who it was we had just stumbled upon; Miss H17 and her leather friend.

  “Excuse us, ladies,” Brad said, smiling.

  “We meet again,” I said, slightly out of breath from the altercation.

  Brad gave me a look. “You have already met?”

  “Old friends by now,” I said. She and I were looking comfortably at each other, and she was younger then I realized.

  “Jack,” I said with a smile.

  “Leah.” Her voice was soft. Her full lips were in a closed smile, her head tilted to one side causing strands of her wavy blond to fall over her face.

  And there it was, the moments we all live for, a genuine human connection. I was determined to make this last, I wouldn’t say a word because I knew it would break the spell. The volume of the mob around us dissipated, everything around her blurred. It was just this beautiful stranger and I sharing a moment. We were close, I could smell her hair. Her perfume, her breath, her clothes, and sweat all together filled my lungs and I felt that familiar warmth wash over me. I felt it in the pit of my stomach. My eyes narrowed and my jaw squared; she was painfully innocent and it made it better.

  “Jack!” Brad shouted, walking away with Leather girl

  The spell was broken, the mob was loud again.

  “Leah,” I responded with a smile. “C’mon, there is no way all of these people are getting in tonight. I can make sure the both of you get in, it will be fun.”

  We caught up to the other two.

  “Louise,” said the leather friend introducing herself.

  “Nice to meet ya,” I said.

  “Where are we going?” Leah asked Louise, trying to keep up.

  “Leah!” she admonished her. “I told you, Madeline’s”

  I pulled out a cigar and lit it up—the after show cigar is the best. I breathed it in deep and looked up as I exhaled. The moon filled the hazy night sky, big and orange it casted its glow on the crowd flowing down the street.

  “So what is this place, some kind of kinky sex club?” Leah asked anyone who was listening.

  Of course I was and answered, “It’s a bar, most people dance, all the regulars definitely dance. It’s a big place so you can find a quiet room and do whatever you want. It’s just a club really. It just happens there is something about being inside those walls that encourages you to lose your mind in the best of ways. For some people it’s about the music. You would be amazed who you find there, some of the stranger behavior comes from executives, politicians, and other typically boring people, those people are easily avoided. No one will judge you there, it’s a place you can be who you need to be. It’s not dangerous or violent even though it can seem that way. Madeline will see to that.”

  “There is actually a Madeline?” Leah asked looking my way. She was clearly amused by our conversation, and I guess me. “Is she like a Madame or something?”

  We had arrived. Brad hit a red industrial door three times with the side of his fist, the sound echoed in the alley.

  Responding to Leah, I said, “I am sure you will meet her.”

  Madeline was my friend and it didn’t feel right discussing her. I was far too focused on Leah, anyway. She had a quality that got under my skin, our casual interaction had left me hard, and now that we were standing facing one another the head of my cock managed its way
out of my pants, my belt kept it tight against my stomach. My black dress shirt kept everything concealed but she noticed something in me that made her step back, she looked a little scared. This turned me on more. She wasn’t terrified—she reminded me of a puppy that wanted a treat but was reluctant to take it.

  The large, heavy, metal door grinded open. The sound of it filled the alley. A monster of a man stood before us, one hand on his hip and the other hand on the handle. He looked like he could take all of us out with one swipe of his fist. With a high forehead, and a 45 degree angle scar that divided his face, I knew him well enough. His real name was Stacy but I knew better than to call him that.

  “Rex, can you make room for four more?”

  “Do you think you own the place? Why should I let you in?” Rex looked past me in the distance.

  “Be nice, it’s Leah’s first time”

  “Hello, Leah.”

  “C’mon Rex, I tell ya what, we’ll take the London room for the entire night, two bottles of Cristal and whatever the chef wants to make us.”

  “Big spender, are they finally paying you over there at the Metropolis?”

  Leah and Louise were giggling together.

  Brad did his best British accent, “Why, I have never been to London.”

  “Rex,” I said raising my brow, “This has been fun but we can’t play this little game all night.”

  Rex sighed and raised a radio to his chin, “Prepare the London room for Mr. Willow and three guests, two bottles of Cristal and have Chef Erik make something.” Rex stepped to the side. “Welcome to Madeline’s.”

  “Off you go now.” Brad ushered the ladies into the building, retaining what he thought was a British accent. They were holding each other like they were in a haunted house, disappearing into the dark hallway. Brad followed. “Well Jack, maybe we’ll keep ya.”

  Rex and I were left at the door, I politely walked past and slipped him a twenty and gave him a knowing nod.

  I have been down this ugly industrial hall more times than I could count and had little doubt Leah was having second thoughts walking down this dank space. This back entrance is necessary—with all Madeline’s had to offer, naturally more people wanted to be a part of it than the space can handle. In a place like Bonneville, crowd control was needed.

  Outside the front of the club was a party in itself. With such a large crowd gathered it has attracted artists of all sorts to set up shop on the street. Crowds of people tended to attract crowds of people. There was food and music, I have spent many Friday nights having drinks and sharing laughs there. It was like a carnival gone mad, not everyone was trying to get into Madeline’s, but most were. Sometimes when I wanted to be hard on myself I would spend entire nights there.

  We were about to open the door to the main common area and I hoped the usual suspects were behaving. I didn’t want Leah to be put off, I had plans that involved her staying. We could hear the muffled music through the door. She was close to me, I put my arm around her so that she ended up half inside my leather jacket.

  She looked up at me submissively and I was confident the night would end up exactly as I wanted.

  I opened the door with my left hand and the music poured out like water in a sinking ship.

  We walked out and took in the sight. Being with Leah, I felt like I was seeing it for the first time. I could feel her reacting. We were on a mezzanine so we had a good view of the main hall and all the usual suspects were there. I was happy they were—it was like a play and the whole room was the stage.

  The center of the room, down below, was the cage. It was beautifully made by a local artist—she made many of the beautiful pieces in here—and musicians performed in it. The floor was tapestry and above it was a chandelier entirely made of crystal champagne flutes. There were many small balconies like ours around the oval room, all of them had groups of people reacting to the intonations of the music.

  It seemed everyone was completely inhibited. All the tiny balconies were occupied, one had a women that seemed to be in some sort of steam punk costume thrashing her hair around and gyrating her hips. It did not matter where you looked, everyone was complete involved in the moment, contributing to the mayhem. The area surrounding the cage was slightly more interactive. Mostly couples and a few trios grinding together in response to the rhythm coming from the band. They looked like they knew what they were doing with their arms and legs tangled in a sweaty mess. The band, they were good, analog synths and fuzz guitars layered over a half time, bare bones drum line that demanded you to move.

  The air was different in here—walking into this room was like getting off a plane at a tropical destination. We were not alone on our balcony; it was full of the typical unbearable hipsters, scattered randomly about, looking at their reflections in decretive mirrors. With their elaborate head pieces, futuristic outfits and powdered skin, they are the punch line of many jokes. Personally, I liked having them around in a way, they are not good for much but they are decorative, like silly Christmas decorations sprinkled all over Bonneville.

  “Let’s make our way down to the bar.” I clasped the back of Leah’s neck as I spoke into her ear.

  “Okay.” She was more submissive now. Though she was smiling nervously, her eyes looked up with obedience.

  The other two were playing around, I had no idea what game was being played but Brad was circling her with his chest puffed out, cock-walking like a cartoon rooster. Her reaction suggested he was doing a good job. My hand slid down from Leah’s neck to the small of her back guiding her along, I think she saw me as being chivalrous but the truth was much more sinister. I felt like a predator and she was my prey. As I guided her along toward the stairs I took the sight of her in, I looked down over her back. Her blouse exposed her back, my eyes fell to her round ass. My chest was hot and my heart quickened, I fixated on her, one hand on each cheek I imagined. Squeezing, separating, squeezing separating her cheeks. But it was the tear in her black tights that I kept returning to.

  “So this is Madeline’s,” Leah’s voice brought me back. She didn’t have to yell because the band was between songs. I am grateful she spoke up because we were at the stairs and I was day dreaming, I could have fallen down the stairs in my little trance. I took a deep breath and became human again. My eyes returned to her face and we walked down the extravagant stairwell that curved to the dance floor.

  “I’m happy you’re here,” I told her. The band had begun again, the lighting of the room changed and a dull siren like sound filled the room. The sound hovered up and down, Leah stayed on the stairs a few steps from the bottom with her hand on the copper railing. The drums began angry and slow, it seemed to hypnotize the crowd on the dance floor. Half naked bodies grinded together. I looked up at Leah from the floor. She was not looking at me, she was looking over the crowd, lost in the moment. She looked like she was allowing herself to get lost in this. Brad and Louise were in the middle of the crowd already, locked together, kissing and dancing.

  I held out my hand and Leah took it. I suppose we could have walked around the long way to the bar but I pulled her into the tangled crowd. I never really danced, sometimes watching this group lost in the music does pull you in though. It looks fun and it’s hard to not want to be a part of it. It’s the fact that they are, for the most part, are really talented dancers. I always suspected they were a part of a local group, or in a class together.

  We were made our way through the crowd; the music was consistent save the distorted vocals singing some kind of mantra. Our hands were locked but bodies were wedged between us and we lost our grip on each other. The lighting changed, the song shifted, strobes of light flashed and for a moment she was gone. With each flash of light she was in someone else’s arms, at one point almost kissing another women but moved along before their lips touched. I was lost in the moment myself. I wasn’t dancing, but that didn’t mean anything.

  An athletic, taught woman with a wild afro was pushing into me, grazing my skin, da
ncing around me like I was a prop. But while I stood there, I was fixated on Leah—her dancing did not match her innocent personality. It was extremely hot to watch her dance while this stranger rubbed up against me. The heavily sexually charged crowd stirred around with us in it and inevitably Leah and I met again. I held her close. We gently grazed every part we could against each other. I pulled her hair back in my fist as we locked together, her legs straddling my thigh. I could feel the heat between her legs; I was hard and I knew she could feel it. I knew the end of the song was coming. Her eyes were closed, our faces pushed against each other. Cheek to cheek, our lips would touch but we never kissed. I could tell by the heat between her legs, how she felt pressed against me, that I could slide inside her standing up here and now. The song ended, our eyes slowly opened and our mouths slowly turned to smiles. Louise hugged Leah and twirled her away from me, Leah’s head shot back as she laughed.

  This was a good night, it is not often that everything feels so easy and fun. The band was doing something strange, someone was crawling on the inside of the cage hissing at people on the outside, people made noises back. It was a good timing we were moving on, I suspected.

  This bar, this strange bar. It had copper piping all over the place. I often wondered which ones served a purpose and which ones were decorative. The bartender was a striking women, her black hair was tied back tight, and her eye make-up was theatrical. Leah was against the bar, I put an arm on either side of her and held onto the railing trapping her inside my arms and against the bar. She seemed comfortable with this.