I focused on the pressure, the angle, the count in my head, andnotthe feeling of someone pressed flush against me.
Just as my stomach heaved, the greeter passed out, and I gently placed him on the floor before slipping out the room and closing the door behind me. My eyes immediately scanned for Violet, not finding her where I’d left her.
Fucking hell… of course she’d moved.
We needed to get out of here,now, and she’d gone and wandered off because she had zero sense of danger where her mother was concerned.
I knew this was a bad idea. Should have listened to my instincts and not my cock.
Fuck this. I’d buy her flowers. Maybe learn to bake. Something easier to earn her forgiveness than whatever this shit was.
I shouldered through the crowd, each brush of an arm or accidental bump punching air from my lungs. My breathing caught, tightening with every unwanted touch.
Too many people. Too close. Too many?—
“Sir.” Something settled on my shoulder, and I turned, gripping it hard enough to hear something crack.
The man hissed, stumbling back and clutching his hand.
Oops. We weren’t supposed to gain attention, and yet here I was, creating a commotion. Great.
“Sorry about that, mate,” I said, trying to ease the situation.
Something hard pressed against my back, and I froze.
Fuck. Me.
“One wrong move and I’ll pull the trigger,” the man behind me murmured, low enough that only I could hear.
Perfect. A gun. Because this night clearly wasn’t chaotic enough. I quickly glanced around, hoping to find Violet in the crowd, watching. But she was nowhere.
“Move.” A shove forced me forward, and the guy with the freshly fractured fingers took the lead.
“Do you treat all your guests like this?” I asked casually, moving slowly on purpose.
“Move,” the guy with the gun snarled, pushing harder against my spine.
“Alright, keep your knickers on.” My mind clawed for a plan that didn’t involve me:
A, getting shot, or B, getting out of here without Violet.
Both were equally unacceptable.
“So, you guys work for some weird underground sex ring?” I asked as they marched me outside, oblivious to the guests who carried on like this was normal. “Do you get free pussy?”
“Stand over there,” the gunman said, shoving me toward a brick wall. “Hands up.”
“Ah… no free pussy. Got it.” I lifted my hands slowly, eyes scanning the alley for anything I could use. “What about free dick? Employee discount? Loyalty card?”
“Shut up,” the broken-finger guy snapped, tugging off my mask. “You really think you’re funny, pretty boy?”
“Firstly, yes, I’m fucking hilarious,” I said. “And secondly, you think I’m pretty?”
“Face the wall,” the gunman barked.
Shit. “Boys, surely we can come to some kind of arrangement?”
The gunman stepped closer, swinging his weapon in my face. “I said face the?—”
