Page 1 of Pink Poison (The Butchers MC #1)

Stephanie

“Fuck.”

The buzz in my ear reaches a whole new octave as I take in my empty dorm room.

Everything I have ever owned has been sold or is now packed in the tattered gym bag slung over my shoulder.

Glancing at the white walls, I sigh. I know that I need to leave.

It’s only a matter of time before the dean formally removes me from this room himself after my latest shitty excuse as to why my payment hasn’t gone through for the semester.

I thought I could do it, do this. Go to college like all of my friends and build a future for myself.

Fuck. Swallowing the lump in my throat, my heart breaks as I think about what Mom and Senior will say when they find out.

I fought them and Max on this. I told them I was ready, that I could support myself.

That was before I realized how fucking impossible it was to work enough to afford tuition and board—before I knew how hard it would be to be away from my friends and family.

I spiraled. Hard. And now, all I’m left with is this empty room and a check that can’t be cashed.

Turning on my heel, my worn-out sneakers scuff against the linoleum floor with each step I take until I reach the hallway outside of my room.

Laughter echoes down the hall from my classmates, as if they don’t have a single care in the world.

It’s embarrassing that no one else looks as miserable as I feel.

The lump in my throat grows rapidly and with it, my eyes sting with unshed tears.

“Hey, Stephanie!” Dottie shouts. I glance at my roommate, ex-roommate , and watch her blonde hair swish against her scrubs as she jogs in my direction.

“Hey, Dot.” I sniffle, blinking away my shame.

She smiles, bright as fuckin’ always. “Are you going to the gym?”

I secure the bag closer to my body, giving my sorta friend a small nod.

It’s better if she doesn’t know that my life is falling apart, not when she’s just getting hers started.

Dottie is good people, I know she’ll become a great doctor someday.

Mustering up enough sense to cover the thickness in my throat, I let out a tired laugh.

“Yeah, I need to hit the track for a bit. Classes have me stressed the hell out.”

“Tell me about it.” She rolls her eyes dramatically before moving to walk past me. “Don’t stay on the track too long.”

“You got it, Doctor Smith.” I try to smile, but we both know it looks strained.

Walking away from my door, I move through the crowded hall, ignoring anyone who bothers to make eye contact with me.

I round my way through the masses as I quicken my steps down the stairs, close enough to the exit to let down my mask.

Nothing can stop the hot flood of tears trailing down my face, coupled with the excruciating weight of depression that accompanies failure.

I failed. I failed. I can’t believe I failed.

Blinded by the haze coating my eyes, I don’t realize that I’ve walked right into someone else until my legs give out from under me. “Ouch. Shit, are you okay, honey?” a feminine drawl chimes above me.

An embarrassing sob leaves my dry lips, echoing in the entryway of the residence hall. Not only have I failed, but I somehow keep failing. Today could not get any worse. Hiccupping, I pull myself back up from the ground, ready to bolt away from the sweet stranger. “I’m s-sorry,” I mumble.

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry for, sugar. What’s got you all in a tizzy?” she asks, blocking my path to leave.

Focusing on her face, I’m blown away at how gorgeous she is.

Her hair is a remarkable shade of red, flowing down her sides as if she stepped outside, and it formed away from her face.

I marvel at her makeup; it’s loud and dark, almost sensual like she was made to star in a porno or be a pole dancer—someone both men and women would grovel to have at their side.

I’m envious, but not in a way that makes me irrationally upset.

More in the sense of I want to be just like her.

My dull, dark hair and plain face are…lackluster, to say the least. The best thing I have going for me is my tits, and even then, they don’t get me far when I don’t know how to dress myself up right.

I’ve never been the kind of girl who could do much in terms of the girly-girl department.

Mostly because Max would have a shit fit to his dad about it, and my mom is nothing if not a man pleaser at the end of the day.

Besides, plain is pretty.

Sure, Stephanie. Keep telling yourself that.

“Huh?” I ask, forgetting what she said.

“I said, what has you all worked up, in a tizzy?” she repeats slowly before giving me a gentle smile.

I shrug. “I have to leave the university.”

Maybe if I can play this off, she won’t keep staring at me like she kicked a puppy. Or, maybe she’ll stare harder. Her eyes glisten at my words like they triggered something she kept buried, just as deep as I intend to bury this entire experience. “What can I do?”

“Uh, unless you know how I can get a hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the year in less than an hour, I don’t think you can do anything for me.” My face heats as regret immediately washes over me for the fact I just named my debt to a complete stranger.

Her eyes widen in horror, or at least I think it’s horror at my candidness. “Jesus H. Christ that’s a lotta money,” she wheezes. “Do you have somewhere to go? I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name…”

“Stephanie Waters.” I extend my hand out for her to shake.

Ignoring my hand, she wraps her arms around my body and gives me the firmest hug I think I’ve ever had in my whole life.

It’s oddly nice—comforting, even. “My name is Teegan.” She squeezes me one last time before pulling away and giving me a once-over.

“I know we just met, but I’d like you to come with me.

I can’t help you much, but I can offer you a room to crash in and maybe a job? ”

Is she serious?

My jaw unhinges, dropping as low as it can before it starts to strain.

Words fail to form on my tongue as it grows numb from the hit of adrenaline rushing through my body.

“It’s okay if you want to say no,” she says a little too loudly for my liking.

“Shit. I mean, it’s okay if you’re not comfortable.

At least let me give you a ride outta here. ”

I accept the ride with a nod and hope that I can unglue my tongue long enough to accept whatever other help she has offered.

She spins on her Louis’ and leads me wordlessly out the main doors of the residence hall.

I almost run into her again the second we step outside as she stops abruptly.

Peeking around her frame, the university’s Dean stands, appearing somewhat surprised by her exit.

“Teegan, I wasn’t aware we had an appointment today,” he gruffs out, patting his cheap tie down with his sausage fingers.

The sweet girl I just met vanishes before me, and in her place is a succubus in the form of a woman who commands respect and deals in sex. “We don’t, I was here on another call.” She giggles, trailing a finger down the man’s chest. “I’m leaving with her now.”

Wrinkling my face, I hold back a gag as the dean releases something that sounds like a cross between a pig being stuck and a creaky door being closed. Gross. “And who has acquired your services? Would she be open to a third?” he spits quickly—as if he stands a damn chance of weaseling his way in.

Teegan offers a laugh that sounds far too genuine to be fake.

Leaning close to the man, her hand slides down his chest to his crotch before grabbing a hold of him tightly.

“You see, Raymond. I don’t think Miss Waters wants to see you today.

I heard that she was leaving the grounds today, permanently . ”

Raymond groans, and not in an unpleasant way with how she handles his groin, making me want to slink away and forget ever meeting this woman. “W-Waters? Y-Yes, she is to leave immediately.”

She clicks her tongue against her teeth as she pulls her hand away, subtly wiping her palm against her leather mini-skirt. “I hate to hear that, Ray. You see, Stephanie is a good friend of mine, and if she’s not allowed to stay…well, I’m not going to see you anymore.”

“What?” he snaps sharply, coming out from whatever lust-induced haze he was stuck in. “Teegan, be reasonable. It’s not my fault the girl can’t pay for her education.”

His comment hits hard, cutting my emotional wounds deeper until they pierce beyond my heart. He’s not wrong—it’s not his fault that I can’t pay. Hell, it’s not anyone’s fault but my own. But from the way Teegan is standing firm, I can’t help but feel a little less alone in the mess that I made.

“I’m sure a powerful man such as yourself could have found a way to make it work. Offer a scholarship, cut your own check,” Teegan snarks, brushing past the man to reveal me standing awkwardly behind her. “It wouldn’t have been the first time you did something charitable, would it, Raymond?”

I almost laugh at the dean’s expression. His eyes bug out from his sweaty, bald head as he fumbles to come up with an excuse to keep Teegan at his beck and call. “We can—Teegan we can work something out,” he stammers, barely holding back from chasing her.

“No, we can’t, Ray!” she shouts, not bothering to look back at the man while she sashays her ass for everyone in the damn courtyard to see. “Come on, Stevie. We have shit to do.”

Snapping back to reality, I rush to catch up to my new friend, letting my bag bounce against my hip until we reach the parking lot. I have a lot of questions, so many questions, but only one forms over my tongue. “Teegan, are you a pros—”

“Aht, aht,” she cuts me off quickly. “We don’t use that word while out in public. It’s a legality issue, not a morality one. I’m a stripper, or dancer if you prefer most of the time, and I occasionally offer escort services for some people.”

Don’t say prostitute in public. Got it.

I open the door of her Shelby Mustang, pausing briefly to admire the vehicle.

It screams bad bitch energy , painted in a stunning, shimmery, candy apple red.

The interior matches to a T , accompanied by that brand-new leather car scent.

Sliding into the passenger seat without a second thought, I ask, “So you’ve been an escort for Dean Raymond? ” I ask.

“Yu—p.” She pops her lips as she enunciates the p .

“He tips generously for what he asks for, but I’m nothing if not consistent.

If he can’t extend his charitable nature to someone who needs it…

no offense—” She looks at me with an apologetic grimace.

I shake my head, not minding that she called me out. “Then he doesn’t need access to me.”

Steady hums of vibration shake under my seat as she turns the key in the ignition. She pumps the gas pedal, pulling out of the parking lot faster than I can blink. “So, you can just drop me off somewhere?” I mumble, struggling to situate the seatbelt over my busty chest.

“How about I take you to the club and get you an application instead?”

Pulling my lip between my teeth, I consider her offer.

I do need a job, but I never considered being a stripper as an option.

I mean, I’m only nineteen and I’m not comfortable with showing off my body the same way that Teegan clearly is.

Then again, for the right price, I could tell a little lie and learn how to show myself off.

How much money does a pole dancer even make?

“With the right look, an easy couple grand a week,” she responds. Okay, now I’m convinced this girl is a witch, reading my thoughts and shit. “Nope. You said that part out loud, Stevie.”

My heart thumps. One—because I’m embarrassed having spoken my thoughts out loud, and two—that kind of money would be life changing, and God knows I need a changed life. “Did you just say a couple grand?” I choke.

She giggles, playfully and cute. More suitable to her age than the no-nonsense succubus who was ready to take Dean Raymond’s soul from him minutes ago. “Are you interested in hearing me out now?”

The view blurs past as we head onto the frontage road, away from the busy streets of the city.

I vaguely remember Mom and Senior driving through this road when they dropped me off last semester.

Well, I mostly remember Max being a broody asshole the entire time after insisting to come with. God, he’s such a dick.

Shaking off the thought, I smile. “Yeah, I think I’d like to hear more about it.”

Her shriek of happiness rattles against my eardrum as she steps on the gas pedal, taking us well over the speed limit.

“Okay, so the club I work for is pretty low-key, but has a lot of customers: college guys, gangs, motorcycle clubs, and some randos here and there,” she rambles excitedly.

“Mama Mo owns the club; she’s an amazing woman. ”

“The strip club is owned by a woman?” I’ve heard that these places were owned mainly by men, and rarely if ever good ones.

She snorts. “Yep. Her husband kicked the bucket and left her his pride and joy, Gimme Mo .”

A garble of laughter presses from my stomach, lurching out in the craziest sound I have ever made. The weight of my shitty situation lifts briefly as the club’s name echoes around my head. “Gimme Mo? You can’t be serious.”

“Serious as a pair of new stilettos, Stevie.” Turning the wheel, she takes a sharp right turn onto a dirt-filled parking lot. And to prove her truth, standing tall in front of a run-down, shoddy building is a neon sign that reads Gimme Mo .

“That’s the third time you’ve called me Stevie,” I point out. I don’t hate it. Actually, I really like it. Not many people would assume that Stevie is short for Stephanie. “Most people call me Steph.”

Teegan huffs a small breath as she pushes her door open.

“Come on, Stevie. Let’s give you that application and introduce you to Mo.

” Following her lead, I push open the passenger door and step out onto the rust-tinted dirt, kicking up a small dust cloud in the process.

I paste a friendly smile, hoping that Teegan means everything—from her morals down to the money.

I really could use a friend like her in my life just as much as I could use a job that pays more than some minimum wage barista cart at the university.