Chapter 26
— Remmy —
My phone vibrated in my hand as I finished my call to Bren. I knew who it was from before I glanced at the screen.
Scout.
I’d leave it unread, but the text preview told me the main body of his message.
Ace: Where are you goi…
Out that’s where , I internally replied while striding through the open doors of the nearby bar.
Bren’s face darkened when she spotted me. “Um, what the fuck?”
I hugged her while meeting Steph’s pinched expression, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Apparently, it’s still a team only thing at the moment.”
Steph’s mouth pressed into a firm line as she read between the verbal lines. “Fuck them,” she hissed. “Here, have my drink.” A cocktail got shoved into my face. “I’ll go order another, then we’ll bar hop until we can’t dance a second longer.”
Steph turned on her high heel, leaving zero room for argument. Bren simply arched a perfect eyebrow, then clinked her class against mine. “Here’s to being a boss bitch and no one’s lap dog.”
“Never.”
While I smirked on the outside, inside I was hurt. And annoyed. Not so much over being blown off or being told to wait in my room, but because my heart cared that he’d blown me off.
Steph materialized at my shoulder as abruptly as she’d left. “Here. Swap you back now.” She snatched the cocktail from my fingers and replaced it with the new one. “This one’s virgin.” Her eyes narrowed quickly. “Or are you drinking tonight?”
I raised my mocktail at her. “You know me... This is perfect. Thank you.”
Steph grinned. “I’ll take you out any day, babes—you’re a cheap date,” she laughed.
I pointed at her. “You’re welcome.”
My days of getting inebriated were long gone. From the moment I managed to crawl out of the dark hole I’d been at the bottom of, I kept tight control on my substance use—drugs and alcohol alike.
We perched on bar stools at a high table, showing too much thigh as our outfits rode up, and sipping drinks like our shit didn’t stink.
When we reached the bottom, Bren was first on her feet with her blue gaze twinkling. “Let’s go, ladies. Tonight, we’re creating memories two of us won’t remember in the morning.”
I snickered and looped arms with my girls when we got outside. “And you’ll have the hangovers to go with it.”
“Worth it,” Bren chirped.
And that set the tone for the time warp that guided us into the late hours of the night. We bitched and gossiped, drank an array of colored liquids, laughed until our faces hurt, danced until our feet burned, then stumbled our way down the sidewalk looking for our next club.
“Oh my god there are so many people around,” Bren complained.
The image of a poster I’d read in the women’s bathroom popped into my head. “There was a major MMA title fight on tonight between Killer Kaspar and a challenger. Must be people from the fight out on the town too.”
“Mm, maybe. It’s like it’s—”
Steph gasped and clawed my arm, making me yelp. “Babes, look! Amateur night!”
Bren stopped short and shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’m not getting my ass out, especially on stage in front of a room full of people.”
I laughed and tugged her closer. “You don’t need to get your ass out. Besides, they’re letting women in for free,” I added, eyeing the colored chalk board outside of the club called Crimson . A strip club.
Steph scoffed. “Only the hot ones by the look of it.”
As if to prove I still had it, my spine straightened. “We’re hot. Let’s go.”
Two sets of tottering high heels flanked me as I sauntered to the end of the line, towing Bren and Steph with me.
“I am not getting my ass out, Remmy!” Bren exclaimed, loud enough to garner a rippling snicker throughout the line.
Steph’s sultry drawl came from my other side. “If I’m getting money chucked at me, I’ll totally get my ass out.”
“I think Remmy should,” Bren declared. “I mean, she already does FootFet and jerks off dildos with her feet, so getting her ass out will be a cinch.”
Horrified, I slapped my hand over her mouth, but the damage was done. A sea of curious gazes stared down the line, men and women alike, either scandalized or fascinated by what they’d just heard.
“Shut the hell up, Bren,” I hissed, eyeing the bouncer striding toward us.
While remaining super pissed at Bren, I bit back my scowl and forced a radiant smile when the muscly dude in the black tee three sizes too small towered over us.
“You three,” he barked, spreading his middle three fingers at us. “Gimme your wrists.”
On command, we offered our upturned wrists, and I slowly peeled my other hand off Bren’s face. The firm press of the club stamp distracted her enough to make her forget talking about the secret she’d so carelessly revealed.
“Come with me,” Muscles commanded.
I wiggled my eyebrows at Steph, then linked fingers with the one we had to keep an extra eye on tonight (Bren). We followed the bouncer to the entrance. He pulled it open without another word, then motioned for us to proceed.
It was dark save for sultry red lights marking each table, emitting enough glow to see well once our eyes adjusted, while keeping a sensual cloak over everyone inside. The stage at the far end of the building wasn’t much brighter but illuminated three bodies swaying seductively to the music.
“Wow,” Bren said, eyes wide and glued to the stage.
I nudged her. “See, even with your ass out, we wouldn’t see much.”
She laughed and waved me off. “Drinks!”
Steph and I followed Bren to the bar, and while she ordered, we watched the stage.
“You want to do it, don’t you?” came Steph’s low voice in my ear.
I shrugged and gave her my full attention. “I’ll be honest, all I’m seeing is easy money and dollar signs.”
I was honest with myself too—money motivated me. Easy money was what paid my bills. It brought me the lifestyle I could only dream of years ago. Anyone to shame me for that had never known a desperation like I once had. How scarily quick that desperation could change someone and influence their decisions.
Steph’s lashes lowered as her gaze dropped down my body, then snapped back to my face. “Do it.”
I smirked. “You know I like a challenge.”
She scoffed and raised her voice above the heightened tempo. “Oh please, you literally took zero convincing. Go get your ass up on stage.”
Lowering my chin to look at my enabler friend from under my lashes, I grinned and lifted my hand. “Hold my clutch.”