“No wonder you hate his guts…”
“That’s just part of it,” she says to me and takes a deep sigh.
I can tell there’s another bombshell coming.
“You see, Lester is my stepfather,” she whispers in a resigned tone, and hunches her shoulders as the word stepfather falls out of her lips. I don’t even want to imagine how it’d be to have the devil for a stepfather. “He has been trying to shut me down through unofficial channels, but I’m not making his life easy. That’s why he pressed you into all of this. He can’t get the police inside Python without a valid reason, and Austin already spends a lot of money on security so that none of Lester’s criminal dirt bags can ever step a foot inside here. But he’s growing reckless and Austin and I, we’re making a real dent on whatever operations he has a finger on, and we’re hurting is wallet. And I figure he’s pretty pissed about that.”
“You figure right, yeah,” I say, thinking back to how he stormed my club, raining hell on me. “I’m so sorry, hun… I can’t even begin to imagine how it’d be like to have someone like him for a stepfather.”
“My mother was a fool,” she whispers, and tears start welling up in her eyes. She takes a deep breath and recomposes herself, looking at me as if nothing had happened. She’s tough, I have to give her that. “But she loved him. She never knew anything about this and, by the time I discovered what he was up to… I couldn’t bring myself to tell her,” the woman that I know as Mistress Strokes says to me.
“She had cancer, you see? She was thin and sickly, and she almost never left the hospital… I just couldn’t do it to her, tell her the truth… So I sucked it up. I played along,” she says, reliving the memory. “Lester never found out how I always snooped around his office whenever he was out, gathering whatever piece of information I could put my hands on. Back then, I didn’t know why I was doing, I just knew I had to. I couldn’t stand still while that dirt bag was… was doing all that.”
“You were very brave,” I tell her, speaking in a soothing tone.
“Thank you. But you’d do the same.”
“I’m not sure. I’d probably just freak out and pummel him into submission with a fireplace poker.”
“I should’ve have thought of that,” she says with a chuckle, and I notice that she has relaxed her hands, her palms now resting easily in her lap. “Anyways, I haven’t seen him since my mother passed. The day I came home from the funeral, I just emptied one of his bank accounts and took off. I wandered around New York for a whole day, not knowing what I was going to do… So I just grabbed one of the addresses I had found in his office, and headed there,” she recounts.
“I thought it’d be one of the places where they were holding women, but it wasn’t. It was just a warehouse filled with street hookers, and I realized then that he was shaking them down so that they could keep working,” Mistress Strokes continues. “I talked to them anyway, and one told me that she was actually thinking of leaving the life; she had a son, you see? She wanted to be better. Anyway, she told me she was coming to Python, because the owner had a reputation between the street hookers: if you really wanted to straighten up your act, Austin would help you without asking for anything in return.”
“And that was when she showed up in here. Nervous and shaking, clutching a backpack to her chest,” Austin laughs, and I finally realize how much he cares for Strokes. She’s his protegé.
Mistress Strokes sighs.
“I’m tired of it always being women who get persecuted, Destiny,” she tells me and I nod. I’m the same way. Remember? How I said I could have sex with anyone I wanted to? And fuck off if they didn’t like it?
Well, while I was going out spreading my legs, Mistress Strokes was putting herself in danger to free women.
We could all be more like her.
“With the information I stole from Lester, and with Austin financing things we started saving as many women as we could and we were making a difference,” she goes on. She stops and pauses. “We still are, and Lester wants to stop us at all costs. He’s not going to give up.”
“Well neither are we, goddamit,” Austin says, first looking at me and then exchanging a glance with Strokes. “We can’t let him destroy what you’ve fucking built. Whatever it fucking takes, we’ll bring that motherfucker down.”
“And how are we going to do that…?” Mistress Strokes asks him, looking at me.