I've been having a blast, teaching myself this new form of dance. I've even started practicing on the pole when the club is closed so I can enhance my routines. I miss teaching my classes at the studio, but I've been able to fill that void by teaching the dancers at the club. Most of them have never had any formal training, and they definitely appreciate the instruction since they're making more in tips than they could doing anything else.
A lot of the bikers who showed up on opening night have become regular customers. Not all of them, and almost never members from both clubs on the same night. It's like they have an unspoken agreement to alternate nights so they're not tempted to start a turf war at the club. Although now that I think about it, that may have been a rule set by Dean after the first night.
I've learned a lot about members from both clubs, and I don't mind dancing for most of the Forged Soldiers since they remain polite and friendly. But I hate the nights the Hell Hounds are here. They are rude and crass. Not the way that Dean often is, but like they are truly evil in their soul. It's a vibe I can't shake and it doesn't escape me that the nights they're here, Dean always takes me straight to the office after closing so I can drop any sort of character I'm in and just…be. And I can't wait for closing time to come tonight.
“Dahlia, come sit with us.” Rocky reaches out and grabs my wrist as I attempt to walk past the table he's sitting at with Rufus and Spot.
I guess it’s fitting that all the members of my least favorite MC have dog names. My skin crawls where Rocky’s hand touches me, but my intuition tells me they have secrets worth hearing. So, I jerk my hand free and discreetly signal one of thesecurity guards to keep an eye on us as I sit at the other side of the table.
“Not over there, baby. I wanted you to sit on this cock,” Rocky sneers as he reaches his hand under the table to grab himself. “You remind me of the last pussy I had in this shithole town.”
“I'mnotyour baby,” I say with a grin.
“Oooh, she's feisty like that other bitch too, Roc,” Rufus says with a wicked laugh before turning toward me. “We like to share. Me, Roc, and Spot. That way we can fill ALLLL the holes, baby.”
“Not your baby,” I remind him with a barely concealed grimace. This is the part of this job I hate, because I'm terrified they'll eventually accept my next offer. “You know you can't touch me, but you can share the cost of a room for a private dance…ifyou have the cash.”
“We have plenty of cash,” Rocky scoffs. “But we don'tpayfor bitches.” His eyes bore into mine and it's like I'm staring into the depths of hell when he whispers, “Wetakethem.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rufus bobs his head excitedly. “Just like that bitch across…town.” He settles down and darts his eyes to Spot as he adjusts his statement. “That was a wild time. Roc is right, though. You look kinda like her. Short. Dark hair. Your ass is fatter, but that's even better. I like something to grab.” He lifts his hands and wiggles his grease-stained fingers.
They’re talking about Maxine.The thought hits me like a ton of bricks, and I know my face pales by the way they all laugh.
“Yeah,” Spot says, speaking for the first time. “She gets it. I think maybe we'll take that room, tonight. Might take something else, too.”
I gasp at the audacious way he just tells me what they're planning. Thankfully, I'm saved from making a scene when Slade steps up behind Spot, grabbing his arm and twisting it up his back when he reaches for his wallet.
“You're too late.” Slade leans over his shoulder to speak next to his ear. “I've already paid for a dance with Miss Dahlia.”
I'm both shocked and relieved by his words. While Slade is here almost every night, he's never even paid for a lap dance, let alone a dance in one of the private rooms. It's no secret to me that he's conducting his own investigation into Maxine's attack, since he's the one who found her unconscious and bloody on the floor of her tattoo shop across the street.
I stand on shaky legs and follow Slade through the club to the hallway where the private rooms are located. We enter the last room on the right and as soon as the door closes, Slade spins on his heels to face me. I have to bend my neck all the way back to look up at his face.
“I lied,” he admits. “I didn't pay for a dance. I don't want a dance. I just had to get you away from them.”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely. “But I can handle myself. Especially here.”
“Yeah? You think so?” His face takes on a haunted expression. “Maxine thought she was safe in her shop, too…until she wasn't.”
“How much of what they were saying did you hear?” I ask.
“Everything,” he growls. “And I'm going to need you tonottell Dean about it. I'll handle it. I'll handle…them.”
“I won't say a word.” I don't tell him about the micro camera in the dahlia pendant on my necklace that records every interaction I have, but I do give him as much warning as I can. “But he'll find out anyway. He knows everything that happens in his club.”
“Just distract him for tonight,” Slade begs. “By tomorrow morning, it won't matter.”
When I nod, he steps around me and walks out the door.
I let out a sigh of relief before my hands start shaking with the adrenaline racing through my body at the thought of whatcould have happened if Slade hadn't stepped in. But now, I'm faced with a decision I don't know how to make.
If I don't tell Dean about what I found out, Slade is going to kill those guys. But if I tell Dean—if he watches the footage and hears what they said—he may kill them, himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Dean
Iwatch Sloan dance from the VIP table each night before retiring to my office while she's on the floor. I don't like leaving her that far away from me, but I came too close to blowing everything the first time someone led her down the hall to one of the private rooms. It's better for all of us if I watch from here where I can dial into the security feed when a room is booked for Dahlia.
