Chapter 10
TEN
FENRIR
TWO MONTHS AGO
“What the fuck are we doing here?” I hiss down my mouthpiece to Willa, who’s watching Hayami as intently as I am.
Seemingly unaware of our unease, Hayami stands at the bar in five-inch stilettos and a figure-hugging black dress, looking like a peacock amongst a flock of pigeons.
“This is the bar she wanted to come to,” Willa reminds me.
“Yeah, and I told you what kind of bar this is.” I don’t need to add that this isn’t on the list of places that have been okayed by Markus for Hayami to visit—a list that consists of clubs and bars all owned by Devall.
Willa already knows this and is turning a blind eye.
She has a soft spot where Hayami’s social life is concerned.
A man shimmies past me wearing a fishnet tank top, clearly showing his pierced nipples and tattooed chest.
“It’s not our job to decide where she goes,” Willa answers through my earpiece.
She’s on the other side of the bar, watching Hayami from a different angle, ensuring that we cover all bases.
She steps back to let a woman with a tray of drinks through the throng of people who are dressed—and I use the word dressed lightly—in short skirts, open shirts, tops that barely cover their breasts, and some that don’t cover them at all.
“Unless it compromises her safety.” I sweep the crowded room again but can’t keep my thoughts at bay. What are we even doing here?
In the four months I’ve been assigned to Hayami’s security team, she’s never gone to a bar like this. Hell, she often doesn’t leave the house unless it’s to go shopping. She hates clubs and bars. Until now, it seems.
“How does this place compromise her safety?” Willa challenges me.
My eyes roll involuntarily. “People come here for more than a drink. Take a look around.”
She doesn’t follow my instruction, just keeps her eyes on Hayami. She must know what I’m referring to: the flesh on show, the gyrating hips, the wandering hands, and the adventurous tongues.
“I sense no danger here, and we don’t have to worry about concealed weapons,” Willa says. “Besides, she’s an adult, and she’s free to explore whatever things she wants to.”
“You and I both know that’s bullshit.” I know what she’s getting at, but this isn’t Hayami.
Eight weeks ago, she asked me not to let anyone touch her at that stupid ball.
Yet tonight, she walked into this bar despite me telling her what kind of place it is.
I swear she hitched up her hem and flicked her hair over her shoulder like she was advertising herself, making sure everyone could see what was on offer.
But I’m still working on the rule that no one is to touch her.
Luckily, thanks to us being present, no one has approached her.
What is she playing at? Why are we here? If she doesn’t want guys to look at her, then what the fuck is she doing in a place like this? I’m so confused, but I won’t be deterred from my job. As far as I’m concerned, everyone is a threat.
“Hey, big guy.” A person approaches me. I’m not sure what gender they are, as their hair is short with silver highlights, their make-up bold and colourful, and their upper body is ripped under the tight Lycra top that’s stretched across their chest. “How far down do those scars go?” They wink and trail their hand across my pecs.
I glare at them, and they drop their hand.
“It’s always the mean-looking guys who turn out to be pussycats.
Is that what you are, a pussy cat?” They laugh.
“Is kitty not playing tonight?” They take a step back.
“Such a shame. I would have loved to have played with you. Next time.” They wink before gliding off into the crowd as I return my focus to Hayami, who is now on the move.
“I think she’s heading to the bathrooms,” Willa’s voice advises down the earpiece.
“You better go scope them out. Fuck knows what’s going on in there,” I instruct Willa, who agrees and pushes on through the crowd.
I tail Hayami as she weaves aimlessly through the partygoers, appearing as if she’s taking everyone and everything in. My stomach drops when she makes her way to the rear of the bar.
I’ve only ever been in this place once. I’d been sent to deliver a message to a guy who owed Devall money.
I couldn’t find him on the dance floor or near the bar but had been told that he was here.
I’d pushed on through the back of the bar only to discover a bank of booths hidden in the darkness and shielded from prying eyes.
After bypassing the booth with a woman grinding on the lap of some guy whilst another guy next to him waited his turn, I found the scumbag I was looking for.
He was huddled in the corner of a leather seat, having his cock sucked by a woman with a mop of blonde hair that could have been a wig.
Needless to say, the message was an easy one to deliver with him having his crown jewels hanging out.
But Hayami is heading straight for the booths.
She reaches the first booth, and I want to grab her, pull her away, tell her that this isn’t where she belongs.
That this isn’t what she’s looking for. But there’s something in her eyes.
Curiosity. Intrigue. I can’t bring myself to break the daze she appears to be in.
She’s frozen, like she’s stepped into quicksand.
Her eyes are trained on what’s going on under the cover of the dim lighting and the rhythmic music.
It takes an effort to tear my eyes from her.
When I do, I see what’s caught her attention.
A woman sits behind the rectangular table.
Her eyes are closed, and her head sways.
At a glance, anyone would think she’s kicking back, enjoying the music and relaxing, until I clock the guy next to her.
His hand snakes under the table and is clearly between her legs.
Her nipples peak through her sheer top. She licks her lips, then opens her eyes and stares at Hayami.
Hayami’s eyes widen, and I step forwards, ready to intervene, until the woman smiles at Hayami and softens her lips.
I fight all my restraint to stampede over and drag Hayami away.
Crooking her finger, the woman beckons Hayami to join them.
She must sense Hayami’s reluctance, as she then pulls the neckline of her top down, exposing her breast, and begins to play with her nipple in the hope that Hayami will be tempted.
And there’s a second where I think she’s going to go and join them, but then Hayami looks at me, her cheeks flushed, eyes searching. And I can’t tell what she’s thinking. Is she asking for my permission? Is she waiting for me to step in? What the fuck does she want me to do?
Just as I’m about to ask, Willa arrives and places her hand on Hayami’s back.
“There you are,” she says as Hayami is brought out of her trance. “I thought you were heading to the bathroom.”
There’s a beat where Hayami appears to be composing herself before she speaks. “Yeah, I was. I got lost.”
Willa glances into the booth, the woman having covered herself up.
“Come on,” she beckons. “I’ll show you where they are.”
Hayami doesn’t look back at me as she follows Willa to the bathroom, and I’m left wondering what the fuck just happened.