Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“Are you kidding? This sucks. No Axel.” Frenchie puts her hand on my shoulder so she can stand to look on her tiptoes in her ridiculous five- maybe six-inch heels.
“God, I wish Blade wasn’t married and fucking in love with his wife,” she whines. “He’s so hot and the president.”
She’s lost me again, but she’s so excited I let her ramble. “Crystal used to be his old lady. Oh wow.” She grabs my arm. “Even Poet is here tonight.”
I want to ask her what an old lady, a Blade, and a Poet are. But I kind of have a brain freeze as I stare at the men she’s pointing at.
“Who are they?”
She rolls her eyes again and stomps her foot. I’m beginning to think we might not be friends.
“The Disciples!” Her eyes are wide like I should know what that means. She must see that I have no clue.
“They’re a motorcycle club, one percenters.” Again, she seems to find this exciting.
“I’m determined to get one of them.” She tosses her hair off her shoulders. I give her a supportive nod, then turn back to watch them.
I have to agree with Frenchie. All of these men are hot, but there’s something almost terrifying that makes me want to stay away. My eyes zero in on their vests. Holy God, they wear the same one Mitchell wore.
Suddenly, a sliver of dread snakes up my spine. When he said he was in a motorcycle club yesterday, I was thinking like Charlie Hunnam in Sons of Anarchy. Even though I never saw the show, Charlie is hot and Mitchell is hot and beautiful.
As I look around for him, my heart races. He’s not here. I take a deep breath. Why is this freaking me out? I didn’t technically lie. He said talk to Crystal, and I did. I have absolutely nothing to worry about.
Straightening my shoulders, I refuse to let this throw me. I look like a different person anyway. With the long red wig and all the makeup, I don’t even recognize myself. Gone is Toni. Candy is alive, and Candy is going to make at least a $1,000 tonight.
“Okay,” Frenchie says. “I’m gonna go mingle. Maybe I can get a lap dance before I go on. That’s where we can make serious money.” She looks at me.
“Really?”
And my mind instantly goes to yesterday. I see him and feel him. I can’t seem to let it go.
She reaches for my hand. “You know what… I need to visit the restroom. I’ll be right back. You go get them.”
“Wait, Frenchie.”
But she’s gone and now the biker guys are ruining my excitement. I back away, already mad at myself. This is stupid. If that’s where the money is, that’s what I should be doing. Not running to the dressing room to hide. Yet that’s exactly what I do.
AXEL
“What the fuck are you saying?”
I should have sedated myself instead of partying the rest of the day with Rip and Ox. My patience was at zero three hours ago. So, hearing Snipe, my head of security, inform me that Vladimir, our Russian arms distributor, is here and demanding to go up to the VIP area makes my head pound. Vlad is a complete thug and has worked his way up the Russian mafia ladder. That’s why he’s dangerous.
“You’re in charge of making sure no one knows anything. Secrets do not get leaked, Snipe. I’m fucking not happy about this.”
“It might have been a coincidence.” His chiseled features look more pronounced than usual. Don’t get me wrong—it’s rare that Snipe smiles, but tonight he’s snarling.
“Darrell is asking what you want to do.”
Lighting a cigarette, I pull out my cell, shaking my head at Snipe and Andre, his right-hand man. “Let them up. I’m texting Blade right now.” My gaze moves to the monitors. The Pussycat is packed. All the top girls are on, working the poles. The VIP area is at capacity and the lap dance rooms are already booked, some already in use. Andre types on his phone and the camera aimed at the VIP entrance zeroes in.
“We have a fucking rat. Could be an innocent rat or it could be a fucking piece of shit greedy one. Either way, I want it found.”
I watch the monitor as Darrell and a prospect pat them down rather than use the wand. He steps back and nods at the camera.
“I don’t want to deal with any more shit tonight. You make sure the boys understand that. Nothing.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Snipe talks into his earpiece informing all the bouncers of my exact words.
The room crackles with bad energy. Snipe and Andre are the ones who let me know someone was starting shit. Little things from our trucks and warehouses went missing. Small things, but lately the thieves are growing bolder.