Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122896 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 614(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“Not to me. And the rest of the girls know to come to you immediately if anything does. I’m talking about the shit we’ve been dealing with since those assholes took over.”
“I’ll remind Taint that we won’t have any dancers left if he can’t control his ’brothers.’” She ground her teeth. “We shouldn’t have to protect ourselves from our own boss, or bosses.”
“Yeah, well, when Cookie isn’t around, Saint’s no better than the rest of them.” Sapphire visibly shuddered. “I doubt he’ll care what you have to say.”
Cookie was Saint the Taint’s ol’ lady. Unfortunately, she was also The Peach Pit’s new assistant manager. While Saint oversaw the operations of the club, his woman was supposed to be the acting manager when Mel wasn’t around. However, Cookie had no management experience when the Demons slid her into that position, despite Mel’s suggestion of making Sapphire her second in charge. Worse, the biker’s woman had zero work ethic.
Mel also suspected that Cookie pocketed some of the dancers’ tips when they weren’t looking.
Saint was the complete opposite of his road name. But then, there was nothing sweet about Cookie, either. Both were arrogant, disrespectful and had a hard, brutal edge to them.
Mel had a sinking feeling that both Taint and Cookie were also selling drugs from the club. That illegal activity alone could get the club shut down and boarded up. Their greed could screw over a lot of people who needed their job.
Including Mel.
“Do you want me to stay here and watch things while you go out there?”
“No. I’m sure it’ll be quick. Since I’ll be busy with whomever it is, you can continue to man the door until one of the prospects show up.”
“If they show up. Don’t expect miracles.”
Whoever was working the front door for the night was tasked with collecting the cover charge, storing customers’ cell phones and securing any legal weapons.
Yes, weapons. Knives, guns, whatever. Years ago, after a wife came into the club brandishing a loaded handgun because she was angry her husband was spending their food budget on the dancers instead, Laura had installed a metal detector so that anyone entering the club had to walk through it first. They also had a no cell phone policy so naked pictures of the girls or identifying photos of their clientele didn’t get leaked, either. Laura had wanted everyone to feel comfortable.
If someone wanted to make a phone call, they headed out to the lobby to make it. No exceptions.
But she wouldn’t be surprised if the Demons eventually got rid of those policies put in place for the safety of both their staff and customers.
She followed Sapphire past the busy bar and through the double doors out to the small lobby. Her step stuttered when she saw who it was.
One side of his mouth pulled up when she stepped out from behind the taller woman.
She didn’t know who to expect, but definitely not him. Last night they parted ways thinking they wouldn’t see each other until next Monday night.
But here he was.
Not only was “Blaze” standing there, he was looking damn delicious in a forest green short-sleeved Henley that fit his broad shoulders and bulging biceps like a second skin. The rich color highlighted both his hair color and skin tone. His long legs were encased in a pair of jeans so worn that most of the blue had faded away. There were tears at both knees and the bottom of his pant legs appeared slightly frayed over the same black boots he wore last night while dancing. They reminded her of the style of boots the Demons wore. Biker boots.
“He’s one of the Peckers,” Mel told Sapphire as her hostess moved back behind the counter.
“Oh, then damn, I should’ve worked last night. Do all of the dancers look like him? If so, I’ll make sure to work next Monday night.”
She noticed that Danny never even glanced at Sapphire, despite her eye-fucking him. Instead, his eyes remained on Mel.
“What do you need?” She waved him through the metal detector but he shook his head.
He jerked his chin at the walk-through metal detector. “Got a knife on me. Just needed a word with you.”
“Do you plan on stabbing anyone?”
He chuckled. “No.”
Since there wasn’t a lot of room between the metal detector and the front door—and he was already taking up most of the space—she urged him to, “Step through.”
The metal detector certainly did beep when he did so. That made her think he had more than a knife on him.
“Might be my belt buckle setting it off, too,” he murmured, but not pulling up his shirt to show her if he was even wearing a belt.
He stopped in front of her, closer than necessary, then his gaze took a slow trip over her from head to toe.
Hmm.
Tonight she wore a black, sleeveless, one-piece jumpsuit that crisscrossed her chest, showed plenty of cleavage, as well as her toned stomach, and also exposed her back. She’d paired it with a simple pair of black “fuck me” pumps and a wide rhinestone belt.