It seemed there was one of his kind every week lately. Either that, or I’d grown sensitive to assholes. Most needed a stern reminder in the form of yours truly and they behaved. Every now and then, the club got one entitled prick who thought he was above the rules. I had a feeling this jerkoff fell into the latter category, which didn’t exactly aggravate me. I couldn’t deny the joy putting bullies in their place brought me.
Lexa, the dancer entertaining Loudmouth, passed me a look as she shook her bare tits in front of the man. I nodded at her to let her know she was safe and if the guy got out of line, I’d be there for her. These were my girls, and I took care of them. It was enough they were objectified day in and day out, but getting handsy with them was crossing the line. I thought of my girls as family, the little sisters I’d always wanted, the protectors they deserved. So, no mercy if anyone decided they wanted to fuck with them.
She busted out all her best movies, hoping the show would put a splash of water on the prick’s flame, but it only seemed to rile him up more.
“Damn, baby! You’re on fire! Why don’t you slip those panties off for us? You don’t need them. I can think of a better place to stick these bills.”
His buddies snickered, but it was the fake kind of laughter designed to stroke the ringleader’s ego. Back in high school, Loudmouth would be the head bully. His kind had always irritated me but once I’d moved to Pleasant Grove and started school, I’d put an end to that kind of bullshit. Certain benefits came with being built like a tank. Even back then when I was more chub than muscle, people listened to me. I’d used my size for good.
I walked over to the bar and nodded at Phil, the bartender. “The prick harassing Lexa? Cut him off, he’s had enough.”
“They’ve got a tab going. Up to four hundred now. All expensive top of the line booze,” he said. “Black Amex, too.”
“I don’t care,” I barked over the music. “He’s done.”
“All right,” Phil said with a sigh, knowing where this whole thing was heading. “I’ll make something up to end the tab, but if they start giving me shit, I’m sending them your way.”
I took up my place in a dark corner a little closer to Lexa. If the asshole got handsy, I could be by her side in two seconds.
The night wound on, patrons flooding the club. Lexa was about to take a break when Loudmouth requested a lap dance from her. It was obvious she didn’t want to do it, but she was used to handling demanding and obnoxious customers, not that she should have to. As she led him into a private room, I came to stand guard by the curtains. She knew I had her back. Ialwayshad their backs.
I filtered through the music and chatter of dozens of men and focused on Lexa and her customer’s voice. The first hint of a problem and I was going in. My attention was split between Loudmouth’s friends arguing with the bartender about being cut off, and what was going on in the private room.
Lexa’s voice cut through the noise. “You know the rules. Notouching.”
“Oh, come on. No one has to know. You want to make some real money?”
I didn’t give the asshole time to try and talk his way into abusing her. I burst in, noting the relieved expression on her face.
“Hey buddy, this room is taken. Fuck off,” the guy growled.
“You’re done here.”
“Excuse me?” He huffed and stood up. His glassy eyes blazed with anger from being toldnoas he craned his head back to look at me.
“You’re done. You’ve repeatedly bent the rules this evening.”
He rolled his eyes, fishing out a hundred-dollar bill and tucked it in the collar of my muscle shirt. “Walk the other way.”
“You’re done. Your tab has been closed, and you’re leaving.”
“You don’t know who you’re talking to, meathead. I can make things happen to you,” he slurred. He pointed at me as if he was going to say something else, but the fuzz of the alcohol clouded his brain.
I stepped up to him, butting him with my chest. “You really wanna’ threaten someone that looks like me? How do you think that’s going to work out for you?”
He gaped, anger flaring in his unfocused eyes. “Listen, buddy—”
“I don’t give a shit who you are.” For effect, I got in his face and chest-butted him again. It was only a light tap, but with two-hundred and seventy-five pounds of muscle behind me, he nearly lost his balance.
He crumpled, like I knew he would, like all the bullies did.
“This is bullshit.” With that, he stumbled out of the room.
I looked at Lexa, who was collecting herself. “Good?”
“Yeah, thanks, Jere. Every now and then, I’m reminded why I hate this job.”
“It’s the pricks like him that ruin it for the rest. I like to think most men feel privileged to have your services. Unfortunately, there are some that think they are entitled to it.” I plucked the money from my collar and handed it to her.
