“Yes,” he says, pouting.
“Ran your mouth too much, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
She just shakes her head with a chuckle and looks at us. While she’s no longer one of the working girls, she still dresses the part. A tight black strapless dress that ends right below her ass with the fabric pulled so tightly across her fake chest that it’s see-through.
“They’re in rooms four and six,” Queenie says.
“Thanks,” I say. “We’ll take care of it. Thanks, Queenie.”
“Need me to keep my schedule open for a bit, Pacino?”
She runs the place, and her experience in the working girl world has been invaluable. We only need to help manage the money and security, and she no longer has to work in the rooms. It’s a perfect situation for us.
While we have a rule against messing around with the girls, Queenie’s the exception. She’s not technically one of the girls, and only a couple of guys are allowed to fuck her. Club rule.
Pacino’s one of the three.
His eyes don’t meet any of ours when he nods. “Yeah.”
“I’ll get our room ready.”
I don’t know the whole story with Pacino like I do Kannon, but I know it has to do with however he got that scar on his cheek. The only people he really connects with are the men in the club, and even then, he can get really grouchy. Queenie helps take the edge off.
“I’ll take room four if you want six,” I say, letting Pacino off the hook before Rooster says something stupid.
We part ways, and I walk in to find none other than Officer Vold. He doesn’t notice me as Angel thrusts into him from behind wearing a strap-on belt like the ones in the box that fell on Rooster’s head.
“I’m so close, baby,” he moans.
I nod to her, and she backs away from him. His eyes widen as he notices me. Tugging on his pathetic junk makes me want to vomit. “Surprised you can find it over that belly.”
“What the fuck?” he shouts, grabbing a towel to cover himself.
I do feel kind of guilty stopping them as he was right on the edge, but then I remember he fucked me over, and I don’t really give a fuck anymore. “Sorry, Kevin, but you’re no longer a client here. Your privileges have been revoked.”
“What? Why?”
“The undercover cop in room six might have something to do with it.”
He frowns. “I didn’t—”
“Save it. I sent your wife packing. Burned your house to the ground. Now, I’m taking your ability to get pegged by Angel away, too. Get the fuck out of my establishment.”
“I paid—”
“Already reimbursed. Don’t worry, sweetheart, we’re still making sure you’re paid for the full hour,” I say when Angel’s head snaps up in surprise. “You know we’ll always take care of you.”
Shaking his head, he glares. “You have no right—”
“You can leave on your own accord, or I can call the station to have you trespassed. I bet that would look real good as it comes across your boss’ desk.”
Growling, he grabs his clothes. “Fine.”
“Thought you’d see it my way, asshole. Sucks to see firsthand how you picked the wrong side, huh?”
“Like I’d ever work with you.”
