...& a lover's heart is apart of you like a Gold Tattoo... Anyone? No? *sigh*

| ☠ | Devin's POV | ☠ |

Even though I have a room of my own to get ready in, I like to spend time with the others. I sat backwards on a chair while I listened to Ashley tell a story about his weekend. He likes to embellish a little, but we all over adorn ourselves in our own ways. It's a side effect of the job. Flamboyance is a must, whether you wear it in your clothes, or tell it in your words.

I started to tune him out, as I've heard all his shenanigans before. Different settings, but usually the same story. My ears perked as I heard the door open. Ricky walked in, looking just as sexy as ever.

"There you are." Kuza spoke, walking up to him. He smacked Ricky's ass, adding, "Matt's sick tonight. I need you to fill in for him."

Ricky seemed uncomfortable with the way Kuza treated him. I've picked up on the fact that he tends to crawl back into his shell the second someone is overly dominant towards him. Aggressive bar patrons don't bother him. It's only employees of the club that set him uneasy with that type of behavior. Clearly, in his body language, he felt troubled by Kuza touching him.

With one arm held onto the other, Ricky looked up at Kuza like a scared little puppy. "Okay, Mike. What time do you go on?"

"Ten." He responded. "I'm going to go grab something to eat. See you soon, Cutie."

Ricky awkwardly smiled. His shoulders relaxed once Kuza walked away. Yet, he still had that vulnerable look to him. I knew if I asked him why he was uncomfortable, he'd not only not tell me, he'd most likely deny it. Confrontation doesn't seem to be his cup of tea.

He reminded me so much of a small puppy. Those eyes are that of a Chocolate Labrador pup. His personality, it was timid for the most part, and he could dedicated give any dog a run for their money in the cuteness department. The way he was acting right now, if he was a dog, his tail would be between his legs.

Ricky sat down next to me. He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. I placed my hand on his knee, running my palm delicately up and down his thigh.

"You okay?" I murmured.

"Y-yeah." He forged a smile, "I'm fine."

The scale goes: great, good, okay, not okay, I hate you, fine. Of all people, I should know. I took my hand away so I didn't make him uncomfortable. Odd enough, he actually shivered when I did so. I didn't understand it. Not two minutes ago, I saw him want to crawl in a hole and die because Kuza was touching him. Now, he acts as if he's pained by the absence of my hand. He's starting to remind me of myself, in the way that he's getting harder to read to more you get to know him.

I glanced away, tapping my fingers against the top of my chair uneasily. "Um, what time do you get off work?" I asked him.

Ricky tired to move out of his melancholy trance and started to do his makeup. He dug through his makeup bag as he told me, "I, um, I don't know. I was supposed to get off at eleven, but if I'm working Kuza's set, probably not until one. Why?"

"I was just wondering." I said.

Well, I wanted to see if we could make some plans tonight, other than just going straight to sleep. If he has to work that late though, he needs his sleep. I was going until a quarter past midnight. Maybe more, if I felt up to it, but I didn't care about my sleep as much as he did.

I'll leave him to finish up doing his makeup, since he obviously wasn't in much of a mood to talk. I think something bigger is on his mind, considering the way he was acting. I've only known him a few days now, so it's not my place to pry. Besides, I was getting sick of hearing everyone else babble.

Voodoo isn't open until six on weekdays. It was about a half an hour until we opened, and there was already a line outside. Inside, however, it was a ghost town. I walked out to the club area, seeing Josh and Chris sitting at the bar while Ryan set up. I took a seat one down from Josh, tuning into their conversation. They were talking about Josh's dogs, AKA his children.

"You look bummed." Ryan spoke to me, breaking away from their topic. "Want a drink?"

"I don't drink anymore, but I'll take some water." I responded. "Can I ask you guys a... kind of out-there question?"

"You know nothing is off limits with us." Josh snickered.

Ryan handed me a bottle of water. I cracked it open and took a swing. It was mostly my way of buying time while thinking how to ask. I had a million ways I could ask, and honestly more than one question.

At a low tone, I bluntly asked, "What's wrong with Ricky?"

And there was silence... Killing silence. Chris tapped his ring against his glass, "That's a loaded question." He snit, lifting the cup to his lips.

Ryan sighed. "Ricky was a bit of a pity case."

What's that supposed to mean? All the people they take in are pity cases; people who are bankrupt, homeless, abused, slaves even. That's why they submit to Chris so easily. They're desperate for a safe place to lay their heads. Again, I would know.

"What?" I slightly gasped to Ryan's comment.

"We found him on the human trafficking rings." Josh said. "I go to the auctions constantly to look, but because of the possible legal repercussions, we stopping buying from the circuit a long time ago. But, the second I saw Ricky, my heart broke. I sent Chris a picture of him and we agreed, we had to save him."

"He was skin and bones, covered in cuts and bruises. Whomever his previous own was, I'd love to do to that fucker what he did to Ricky, ten times over." Chris scoffed. "After Josh did some research, we found out he's been a sex slave since he was twelve."

"We don't know what predated that. He won't tell us either. All that abuse though, left him with several mental disorders that went years untreated." Josh added.

"He was worse than you ever where." Ryan stated, as if it was a fact.

It's more like impossible. I was so beyond broken.

"I never thought anyone could be." I muttered, running my hand across a burn scar on my arm. It's amazing how much a scar can still hurt, ten years later.

"He's safe now, though." Chris said.

"You call this safe?" I seethed. "These men ravage him."

"Devin, he was tortured for over ten years. Yes, this is safer. You know nothing happens to our dances, that's why we have guards! And he actually has money to buy food, and a bed to lay his head in! That's more than he's ever had."

"I'm not talking about the costumers, Chris." I grumbled.

He groaned a bit out of frustration. "What then?"

"I saw the way Mike was looking at Ricky today. The way he talked to him, touched him... It made me ill."

"Look, we all know Mike can be a little pushy."

"Pushy, my ass!" I snapped. "I can tell you, if no one else was in that room, Mike would've fucked him right there."

Josh placed his hand on my forearm, trying to signal me to calm down. I sighed, rolling my shoulders back. Chris is so adamant about his employee's safety regarding the outside world, but apparently doesn't give a shit if they abuse each other!

"I'll have a talk with Mike, and the rest of the dancers." Josh said.

"You better." Ryan snit. "They've all be getting a little rough lately."

"It happens from time to time." He replied. "Just gotta... Put 'em back in line."