Broken Kings (House of Cards...

Reaper was a buried remnant, as far down inside Malcolm as he could manage to force the spectre of his past to go. He was a teacher now, a man with a purpose, a place to live and even a beautiful woman by his side. And none of that helped to keep the emptiness at bay. Malcolm knew that he should feel grateful for his lot in life. Spain was years behind him now, the lessons learned still strong but the pain and memories settling down in his mind. Salali and the pet shop helped him feel like he was once again a part of something greater than himself, those animals needed him and even more confusingly, they responded to his strange emotional states, forcing Malcolm to be normal, even when it was so much easier to feel dead inside.

His job as a teacher was a great stroke of luck, his duties as a substitude PE and English teacher landing him a fulltime position when the teacher he replaced got pregnant, went on maternity leave and never came back. Others would give significant parts of their anatomy for the chance he was given and yet... he barely felt anything on the matter. Though there was a moment of pure blooded surprise when Malcolm realized that one of his students was none other than West. His reunion with the Cuban was bittersweet because both men had changed from when they’d last seen the other. West had become harder and more like Reaper than Malcolm had ever wanted for him. And Reaper had tried to become a different man than his past had built him to be. There was still respect there, and a lingering brotherhood but there was the years spent apart and the life lessons learned in between them now. Malcolm knew that his hope for the Cuban to get away from the gang life had never happened, and West was grown to a man through violence and conflict.

And then there was Shawna. His girlfriend. A man like Malcolm, like Reaper, didn't deserve anyone with that distinction. Worse yet, he knew that although he said the words to her, he wasn't in love with the innocent red head. She was a good girl, nothing like the women he had taken to bed in Spain. Shawna never even swore, stubbed toes earned an ouchie, a cut on her finger only ever got a darn it. It was indearing and cloying all at the same time. She was perfect. She was so pure and innocent Malcolm knew he could never be Reaper with her or she would flee from him like the monster he knew he was. He wanted to give her the security a woman like that deserved and try to build a life where he was the man she thought him to be. Shawna had no clue of his past, no awareness at all that he was anything more than a teacher who volunteered at a pet store. He could pretend to be normal with her. But still, despite all that he gave to that relationship, Malcolm knew he held back. Because never once did he want his family to meet her. Part of it was her complete lack of Spanish, there were simply too many people in his family that still hadn't mastered the English language to bring Shawna around. Some of it was that he knew his family would look at her and know that he had not told her about his past, and they all detested secret keeping. Secrets ruined lives and there was simply no room in their tribe for that kind of fracture. But that last sliver of him kept her away because he knew, just knew that Shawna wanted more from him than he was willing to give. The part of Malcolm that was, and likely always would be Reaper couldn't be killed and she could never claim to love it.

"You're brooding again." Carlitos mocked Malcolm, his movements in the wheelchair graceful after years of adjusting to it. The ex gang leader had converted to Canadian well, his skin tone faded to match the lack of sun light, more laugh lines around his mouth than there ever had been before. And even a few wrinkles, signs of aging that Carlitos would likely have never lived long enough to earn back in Madrid. The wedding ring on his finger flashed in the light and Malcolm smiled softly, remembering the wedding between Maya and Carlitos well.

"Of course. I don't want to do this." Malcolm replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It's your birthday. Shut up and accept it. Besides, it's not like you've never been to a strip club before. I distinctly remember.." Carltios started to remind when Malcolm gave him the look. The 'stop what you are saying right now and we can avoid the violence' look. Ironically, it was Carlitos that had taught him that look almost ten years ago. When Carlitos shot Malcolm back the look with a dead emptiness in his own eyes, both men ended up laughing. It wasn't the mirthfilled laughter of joy however, instead an almost painful mocking of the good men they were trying to be. It was a heavy burden to carry, their own pasts, and Malcolm was just grateful to have Carlitos around so that he knew that he wasn't alone in the battle against the ghosts of his past.

Thus the birthday trip to a strip club. It was not a ritual that Malcolm actually enjoyed all that much either, more an almost underhanded reminder that neither man was innocent. Still, a good tiem could be had if Malcolm was willing to just forget for a night. Shawna was lied to, told that Carltios was taking him out to a Casino, Maya knew the truth and had no problems with it, and then Malcolm was thrown into the back of a rented van so that Carlitos' friends could drag Malcolm out for the night. It was weirdly reminiscent of when Carlitos had allowed the Barrio Boys to jump Malcolm, his initiation to the gang and the night Reaper had started to really come to fruition.

When they pulled up outside of Suede's, Malcolm gave out a bark of laughter, knowing exactly what kind of reputation this strip club had. It was away from down town and the more populated places, giving it a little more shadey room to play in the dark. There were drug deals, prostitution and probably a fair share of communicable diseases rampant inside the doors, and the faded brownish gray brick exterior looked as drab and worn out as the women inside would. They could have gone to a better club, all of them here were able to afford to, but Carlitos and Malcolm had been to much, much worse back in Madrid and this was a tip of the hat to those moments in Malcolm's past. It was almost nostalgic when he stepped in the doors, the buried pressure of Reaper rolling over a little, as if waking up from a long hibernation.

The lights were dim, but Malcolm's nose was keen enough to pick up the smells of unwashed bodies, hot plastic and the faintest whiff of illegal narcotics. His trained eyes spotted two or three drug deals and he wondered if there would be blood drawn before the night was out. Not that it mattered to him, as long as his group was left out of it. Here in Canada there was no record of his past, no hint that he was anything other than a mild mannered English teacher with an exotic heritage. On stage was a woman who was closer to forty than thirty, her waist thicker than she wanted it to be, but her blody still slender enough that she could strip without turning stomachs. However there was a softness to her skin that wasn't attractive, not the butter softness of youth, but the crepe softness of age and deterioration. Her naughty police attire only made the lines around her mouth seem harsh and Malcolm resisted the urge to laugh at her come hither smile.

His group sat down, Carlitos' wheelchair all but demanding that they sit at the edge of the stage, the booths had no room for him. And because it was Malcolm's birthday, they had him sitting front and center of the group. He sighed and went along, knowing that there was no point in arguing with them. The hag cop finished her routine and flounced off the stage with winks and blown kisses but Malcolm just endured in silence. Music started to pump, a new song and a new set starting and he wondered just how horrible this next routine was going to be.

To his surprised it wasn't another crone strutting out on stage. This woman looked too good to belong to a dump like this and her sheer presence made Malcolm sit up a little straighter. The woman was tall, just a couple of inches shy of six foot, and her skin had a darker tan to it that made him wonder at her ancestry. The candy colour red her plastic devil dress actually looked good against the natural tan, and the fishnets on her mucled legs somehow didn't look cheap. The absurdly tall heels she wore only added to how towering the woman looked, but it was the hints of a tattoo that really drew Malcolm's eyes to her. There was a natural grace to the dancer's moves as she strutted around the stage, not the experience of a stripper giving her a glide, but the native talent of someone who should be doing productions, not voyeur pandering. She crouched down in front of the pole, the splay of her legs making Malcolm's friends catcall and cheer as a white thong flashed and teased before she wound back up. The red dress was discarded with a practiced flick of the wrist and Malcolm could see the white thong and bra clearly, the tattoo the stripper had more fully exposed. The guys around him were going wild, drinking and acting more rowdy than they needed to because that seemed to draw the dancer over to them. He should have known they were up to something, these guys always were, but he couldn't really tear his eyes off of the dancer to notice their plans.

She caught his eyes staring at her and Malcolm almost grunted as the air left his chest, his gut feeling sucker punched. Most dancers had fake lust and cheap playfulness in their gaze. This one had a barely concealed disgust, intelligence and anger burning in her eyes. She didn't want to be here anymore than a thoroughbred horse wanted to be in the circus and it astonished Malcolm that no one else saw it but him. Her clear disdain for this place made him smile, as if he were sharing the joke with her. THe moment broke and ended as Carlitos waved money at the dancer and this time Malcol did groan, in annoyance as his friend's actions drew the dancer over. Her ass was up in the air, the men next to him all salivating at the sight as Carlitos whispered something in her ear. Malcolm had a bad feeling that he knew what his friend was up to, and yet a part of him was actually enjoying the moment now. This dancer was different, and he wanted to see how she approached this next challenge.

He held still as the dancer had money stuffed into the bra she wore and then her back arched back up, the muscles of her spine and legs bunching as she moved gracefully over, sliding to her hands and knees and crawling towards him. Malcolm wished he was a better man than this, but he just stared at the woman as she crawled closer, the part of him that was Reaper fully awake and wondering just what he could get away with tonight. Her finger curled under his chin and her breath heated his lips for a moment. The hot darting of her tongue against his bottom lip made the blood rush in a roar through his body and then she was up and away. The friends around him were going nuts and Malcolm just struggled with the urge to jump to his feet to follow after her.

Malcolm was completely oblivious to the next dancer that came on. His conscience struggled to contain and control the suddenly rampant Reaper, he'd though that part of him dead and buried. But it seemed there would always be a part of him that was a monster. He knew the dancer wanted nothing to do with him, it was a job and money. The other dancers swarmed their table, seeming to want in on the action that one good dancer had started. Malcolm's friends were tossing money out and about but he just found himself fiddling with the cheap plastic devil horns that one dancer had discarded. His eyes picked her out again the moment she entered the room again, a different costume doing nothing to change how she looked. Though there were so many other, cheap women around right now that the one good dancer didn't even approach his group.

There was no real thought process to it, he was sitting in the chair one moment, some cheap fluzy pressing her barely covered chest out at him and then the next he was out of his seat and walking towards the good dancer. Carlitos had a smirk on his face but said nothing and then Malcolm was approaching her, for once unsure of what to say. He cleared his throat to dislodge the knot of anxiety and she turned to face him. Malcolm almost took a step back, only just realizing how close he was standing to her, but he stayed rooted to the spot; Reaper was never the one to back down.

"You dropped this." He finally spat out, the excuse for his presence sounding lame to his ears as he dangled the horns out to her.

The woman's eyebrow arched up and he caught real amusement in her smile before she replied. "It's a souvenir. You're supposed to keep it and think of me always." she flirted with him almost automatically. 

He hesitated for a moment, wondering just how much of her attitude was a show and how much was actually her "You're really good. You could be a professional dancer." he stated, walking with her when she started to move away.

"I am a professional. This is a strip club sweety, not amateur night." she taunted, her attitude filled response making him smile again. Aha, she really was full of more spunk than a place like this called for.

"That's not what I meant." he admitted with a laugh. "I meant a real dancer, as in Cats or something like that."

"Thank you sweety, I appreciate the compliment." The dancer said with an honest sounding warmth to her voice. He liked the rich purr it gave her tone.

"My name is Malcolm. You can call me Mal." The words came out and a grin followed and Malcolm was astonished to realize that he was flirting without meaning to.

"Ace." she offered in response. "Alice Spade. But my friends call me Ace." Malcolm was surprised that she had told him her real name and he saw the flash in her eyes that said louder than words that she hadn’t meant to. She hurried away before he could figure out how to respond to that and his own stubborn pride refused the idea of following after her again.

Instead he went back to his table, trying to ignore the way the dancer, Ace, was being manhandled at the other table. Even worse, as Malcolm sat back down he saw the devilish gleam in Carlitos’ eyes and knew exactly what the man was thinking. “No. No way hombre.” He warned, but it was too late. Alice was walking back over to their table and he could do nothing more than shoot her an apologetic look, knowing that his best friend was playing the devil’s advocate tonight.

“A lap dance for the birthday boy!” Carlitos called out and handed the money over to Alice, and Malcolm could only grit his teeth.

“Ah… is there someplace a little more private?” Malcolm asked, not wanting to do this in front of an audience. He wasn’t planning on going through with the lap dance, but he knew women well enough to know that rejecting her in front of others was a bad idea.

He could see misguided amusement in her eyes again as she assumed he was shy and then she curled her finger at him in a beckoning manner. “Sure, come with me.”

The guys he left behind made all kinds of inappropriate comments as he followed her through a cheap beaded curtain and towards the back rooms. Malcolm felt a little like a sleaze ball, going even this far because he wanted to be a better man than this made him seem. And yet he couldn’t help but look at the peek-a-boo cutouts of her costume, amazed to see that the tattoo he’d spotted earlier really did go all the way to her ass cheek. He was surprised when she suddenly pushed him back and down into a privacy booth, she was stronger than he’d assumed.

He wanted to say something about this not being necessary but she’d already turned the music on. And then she’d nearly jumped on his lap, straddling his legs and gyrating against him. There was enough of Malcolm that really wasn’t a good man and that part was thoroughly enjoying this, but it was the memory of a different birthday with strippers and sex that really ruined the moment for him. He didn’t want to use this woman and he had truly thought he was past that sort of impulse.

The discomfort that memory brought must have shown on his face because Alice stopped and stepped away from him suddenly. "You look like someone pissed in your corn flakes Mal.”

"Well... truth be told I didn't want the lap dance." he admitted after a brief pause. "I didn't want to come out here at all. It was my best friend's idea as a birthday gift." Malcolm smiled and patted the booth next to him. "They wouldn't leave off so I gave in to make them happy, same as the lap dance. But really, I'd rather talk if you don't mind?" he asked her, not knowing why he wasn’t just leaving the whole awkward situation entirely. Maybe because he knew that his friends would just have more indignities planned for him out there.

When she brushed past his body to turn off the music he knew she was going to stay too, despite the internal conflict he’d seen in her eyes. "Alright Mal. What would you like to talk about?" she asked as she sat down.

Malcolm felt a satisfied smile on his lips as he shifted to sit next to her more comfortably and asked, “So... what's your favourite sport?" It seemed like a safe enough topic.

He saw Alice smile and her body language relaxed before she replied. "MMA. GSP is my hero."

"You like MMA?" he asked, surprised. Alice frowned at him and he quickly tried to recover. "Not that I don't think beautiful women can like watching men beat on each other. I think that's just the first time I've heard a woman say it was her favourite sport." Malcolm explained.

"So how's that foot of yours taste?" She teased and he enjoyed her attitude, it seemed natural not affected. "Nah it's ok, I know it'd odd. It's just most modern sports are fluff anymore. Psychologically our sports offer us a relief valve we generally lack elsewhere in our lives. But they're trying to take the fights out of hockey for Christ's sake. It doesn’t make sense. As a species humanity has an inherent pre-existing violence threshold. We've needed it to survive. It fuels our wills to persevere through hardship and helps propel us into evolutionary tracts that have thus far proven quite successful. So why are we now trying to act like we're completely aggression free animals?" Ace argued, loving to have the chance to explain herself on the matter. It wasn't that she liked bloodshed, but instead she appreciated the violence by proxy it provided to a general populace that had no other outlet. Modern man was not designed to handle their own aggressions well.”

Her response was a lot more intelligent and involved than he was expecting. It caught him off guard and he replied without really thinking through his words properly. "That makes sense. It would explain a little why the more we try to censor our group violence the more personal violence increases. Extreme sports are on the rise, things like base jumping, hang gliding and street racing are all overwhelmingly popular with a certain personality type. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way but I'm a little surprised to find a well thought out argument on behavioral psychology, here of all places."

Ace smiled, showing him that he wasn't offended and he relaxed a little. "It's alright. Most men don't even realize a stripper has a brain, let alone a real IQ. I'm an autodidact, so whenever I get interested in something, I learn as much as I can about it." She seemed so naturally relaxed and easy to talk to that Malcolm was already forgetting that they were in a strip club. "Alright, you're turn. What's your favourite sport?" And then she sat back, crossing her legs and leaning back a little. His eyes instinctively flickered down, not able to resist the tableau of her sleekly muscled body in a painted on body suit.

"Well actually I love to kayak." he admitted. "It's not really a sport per se though so I guess I'll have to claim my second favourite and say rugby. It's harder than football and more intense than soccer." he explained with a smile. Point one for Alice; he knew she’d caught him checking her out.  "What do you do for fun?" he asked then.

Alice raised her eyebrows at Malcolm and smiled. "As opposed to taking off my clothes for money? Wow how do I ever top that?" her tone was sarcastic. "I read. And write." she admitted with a shrug of her shoulder. "You?"

This was where he tensed a little, knowing that his real hi온라인카지노게임 and pastimes were not necessarily the best to discuss. So he gave her the same partial truth he had fed Shawna. "In college I was a volunteer firefighter. I wish I could still do that now but work is too demanding. Instead I use my limited free time to help at the animal shelter."

 Alice raised her eyebrows at him again."Wow, what's a boy scout like you doing in a place like this?"

Malcolm looked away, wanting to tell her how very wrong she was to call him a boy scout. Reaper wanted to show her just how bad he could behave. "I could ask the same of the intelligent autodidact." he forced a laugh. "I'm a teacher not a boy scout. And I'm only here because my friends apparently felt it was appropriate to celebrate my 24th birthday by dragging me into the sleaziest strip club they could find. Not that you're sleazy!" he covered the moment he realized how rude his words must sound.

Instead of being rightfully offended, she laughed, letting Malcolm relax again. "It's alright Malcolm, I'm not offended. This place is sleazy. It's a strip club called Suede's, you get what you'd expect." she "You said you were a teacher, so tell me Mr. Professor, what do you teach?" she asked, actually sounding interested.

"I teach high school kids either in Phys. Ed or in English. Right now I have classes in each grade, though I find certain age groups to be less than ideal." Malcolm explained, his mind recalling just how awkward his classes could be sometimes.

"I bet all the girls in class sigh after you like Robert Pattison." Ace said, her words pretty much agreeing with the reality Malcolm endured.

He felt the grimace on his face. "I could do without that for sure. Not only would it be morally wrong to take advantage of a young girl's infatuation, but could you imagine me trying to have an intelligent conversation with any of them?" he scoffed.

"No more so than expecting a smart response from a stripper. Your time is up." Her tone was cool, and she stood up quickly, her entire body language screaming that he had offended her.

Malcolm's fingers wrapped around her wrist, stopping her even though he knew he should let her go. "I've offended you. I'm sorry." he looked up at her, not sure why he wanted her good opinion of him. "I guess it's no different for you than it is for them. People assuming that what you do limits you as much as how young they are limits them. Please, sit back down?" he asked.

Ace looked down at him, and he wished he could understand what she was thinking. She shocked the hell out of him when she bent over and kissed him on the lips. It was a brief kiss, mostly chaste but it still made him want to grab her and show her how not boy scout he could be. "Your time really is up Mal. If I don't take you back out there the boss is going to think we're having sex and that'll cost more." she explained.

He blinked up at her, caught off guard by the kiss and the explanation. "I don't care." he stated. "I'll pay it. I'm having more fun in here talking to you than I am out there while my friends drink and oogle women. This kind of place really isn't my thing." he shrugged, still fighting the urge to give in to the part that was Reaper.

Ace hesitated for a moment but then sat down and Malcolm smiled softly, counting that as a point to his side. "Alright then lover boy. What's your most embarrassing 온라인카지노게임?" she asked, pretending like she had never kissed him.

Malcolm watched her for a second, trying to bottle down the feeling of triumph inside. "It would have to be the night of my graduation. I was going to become a teacher, had already lined up a job replacing a pregnant gym teacher and so I was a little cocky. The guys and I went out drinking and carousing and I ended up more than a little drunk. Where I then apparently decided that it was a perfectly good idea to urinate outside on the street so I wouldn't miss out on the fresh night air. To make matters even more entertaining, I was singing at the top of my lungs either the show must go on or another one bites the dust, stories vary on that account. Oh, and there was a parked police cruiser with two cops watching the entire thing. I woke up in their holding cell with a massive hangover and a fine for public drunkeness. They waived the public indecency charge because they realized I wasn't trouble, just stupid." He could see her trying not to laugh but a chortle snuck out, then she started to really laugh. Soon enough she was trying to muffle her laughter and holding her stomach. Malcolm didn't take it the wrong way, he was laughing too and enjoying the shared humour of the moment.

"I...just have...to ask..... can you sing?" Alice asked between giggles.

Malcolm grinned at her. "If this place had karaoke I'd show you. Though you can always assume I can't hold a note a gunpoint, it makes the 온라인카지노게임 more fun." he offered. Ace cracked right up again and he laughed with her. It felt strange to be laughing and Malcolm realized that this was one of the few times the laughter came easily and wasn’t for show.

"What is someone as smart as you doing here?" he asked, and just like that his words killed the good mood instantly. Alice sat up from her relaxed slumped and looked down at the floor. He picked up on her tension immediately and frowned. "I'm sorry, was that too personal?" he asked softly.

She looked like she was going to answer when there was a loud commotion from the main room. Several men in vests proclaiming them to be police burst through the beaded curtain and started to sweep the privacy booths, startled curses coming from the sex rooms. Both Malcolm and Alice raised their hands to the sky as the police found them in the back area and he worried at the terrified expression on her face.

The police hauled everyone out and Malcolm quickly lost sight of the dancer. He wondered why she had gone so pale but couldn’t really give it too much thought at the police started to hammer him with questions. Why he had been there, what he was doing, was he a regular. They searched him and finger printed him and then turned him lose to rejoin his friends. The fun atmosphere of the night was irrevocably ruined and Malcolm climbed into the back of the van to go home. A whole host of things bothered him about this night. His pretense at being just Malcolm had shattered, because he knew he was Reaper still, not wholly a good person and very much having to fight the urge to be who he had been. He felt guilt over enjoying the time he’d spent with a stripper, he had a girlfriend at home waiting for him and yet he knew Shawna wasn’t the one on his mind just now. And he had to hope that maybe he’d run into Alice again sometime, see if he could figure out what it was about her that appealed to him so much.

“Happy birthday Malcolm.” The guys all cajoled to him as they dropped him and Carlitos off. He waved good bye and turned to go inside as they drove off.

“Wait.” Carlitos called and Malcolm looked down at his friend and mentor in the wheelchair. “Happy birthday Reaper. I’m sorry the night went the way it did. But it was good to see you being yourself again.” He said in his careful way.

Malcolm felt his spine go stiff, the argument on his lips but he let it go. He had been more himself tonight than he had in a long, long time. “It’s good to be myself again. But this does not bode well for my future.” He admitted, his body suddenly exhausted.

Carlitos grinned at him. “You never know mi hermano. You never know.” 

Oh how true those words would be for Malcolm, and sooner than he ever expected.