18. Blackout
18
BLACKOUT
The Diamond Club, like most strip bars, is a fancy name slapped on a shitty hole in the wall. Hidden down a seedy alley downtown, the sign over the door is a neon animation of a girl on a stripper pole with a diamond on top, and her leg flashes back and forth between tucked and extended. Classy as fuck, but it's central, has a liquor license and apparently enough girls that they stay in business.
One sad bouncer stands at the door, scrolling on his phone. He looks up when we get close and he looks really fucking shocked. “You guys, uh… you can go on in.”
“Wait. We’re looking for someone,” I say.
His face goes white.
“Not here to cause trouble.” Probably. “Just tell us if Bone’s around.”
He grimaces, taking a long moment to decide whether it's worth the risk, but then nods. “Try far back, at the tables behind the bar. He usually hangs out there. But you didn’t hear it from me.
Skyhigh pats him on the back. “Excellent, my friend. Thanks.”
We push into the darkness of the club.
There isn’t much to make the place stand out on the inside. It’s dark, the decor is dated and worn, and there’s a woman on stage who looks like she'd rather be doing her taxes. She’s pretty enough, but to me she looks bored. Not that the men sitting next to the stage seem to notice or care. They’re too busy drinking and staring at her tits. Maybe the club has spoiled me, or maybe it’s spending time with Willow, but watching the stripper go through the motions isn’t doing it for me.
Blinking away from the stage, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. There are more people here than I thought at first. Mostly men, of course, but some couples, even some ladies on their own sitting at the bar. I’d be willing to put money on most of them being available for a fee. Servers wearing little more than a few strategically placed scraps of cloth move sensually between the tables, taking orders and putting up with getting their asses pinched and smacked as they pass by customers.
Fuck, I don't judge what anyone does to pay the bills. We all make our bucks somehow, and I don't have much of a moral leg to stand on, but there's still something about these places I find damn depressing. Sex should be fun. Sure, we got sluts at the club, but at least they wanna be there and they know they’ll be taken care of so long as they are under our protection.
Dragon gives my shoulder a push. “Come on.”
We set a course for the bar, following the bouncer's directions. On one side, there's a big cage set into the wall where a topless girl is dancing under a red light. I get the bartender's attention, while Skyhigh directs Crank and Poe one way, and Dragon and Sinner the other, blocking off lanes of escape, just in case Bone doesn't wanna talk to us. It's been known to happen despite how fucking charming we are.
“Looking for Bone,” I say as low as I can when she comes to take our order, slipping a fifty across the bar.
It vanishes. She jerks her head in the direction of the tables. “Back left. Purple glasses.”
We set a course for the back table. The others close in behind us, making sure there's no way out. I check my piece in my belt, making sure it's sitting loose. Just in case.
Bone is skinny and pale, living up to his name. In a white sweater, with thin rimmed purple glasses and a comb over, he looks like he should be doing the accounting in a bookstore, not selling tips from a strip club. I catch sight of a tattoo on his neck, and something gold around his wrist, but he’s the kind of guy you could pass every day on the street and never notice.
I slide into the booth on one side of him and Skyhigh on the other. He's buried deep in his phone but looks up when we sit down. “Can I help you gentlemen?”
“I don’t know, mostly it seems you’re trying to fuck us over.” I throw my arm onto the couch behind him, leaning in, fully aware that it makes my cut fall open and the grip of my iron visible. His eyes flick down and widen, and then I've got his full fucking attention.
His Adam's apple bobs with a harsh swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I stay away from the Sons. You’re bad for business, so whatever you’re here for, I swear I had nothing to do with it.”
This is our big information dealer? Looks can be deceiving, I guess. Hopefully. That fucking kid sitting in our cell is betting his continued existence on this tip.
“Just want some info. I hear that's what you deal in.” Skyhigh pulls his attention the other way. Bone's eyes keep flicking back and forth, trying to keep an eye on both of us at once.
“I’m a nobody. Can't imagine I've got anything you want,” he tries.
“Pretty sure you do. See, we keep running into trouble lately, and word is, you’re the one making it happen. Does the name Harry ring a bell?”
Bone shakes his head. “Don't know him.”
I put my hand on his shoulder and he cringes. “If you’re worried about him finding out you talked. Don’t be. Unfortunately, Harry isn't with us any longer.” His eyes go wider, if that's even possible. “But I have it on good account that he bought his info from you. Now that doesn’t make me happy, but it’s fine. You're just doing business. But if you don't want this to come back and bite you in the ass even harder than it's already doing, you're gonna let me and my friend know where you got this info from.”
His eyes get a little wild, and he's looking past us like there might be help there. “It’s business. Yeah. Listen, you’ve gotta know what it’s like. I have a reputation. If it gets out that I reveal my sources, I’ll be a pariah. No one's gonna talk if they think I’ll rat them out.”
“Not our problem.” Skyhigh leans back into the couch and lets his cut fall open, revealing that we're both armed.
“Fuck,” Bone says under his breath. Then with a surprising amount of speed, slides under the table and makes a run for it.
He doesn't get far. Poe blocks his path, and when Bone veers the other way, he runs right into Dragon who lifts him in the air by his shirt and carries him back. “Pretty sure you weren't done talking,” he notes, dry as a… bone. Yeah, I'm fucking hilarious.
“Alright, Boner .” I take him straight from Dragon and push him back into the booth. “Here's the deal. Anyone finding out you squealed is a problem for future you. Us?” I gesture at myself and my boys with my free hand. “We're a now problem. Understood? So my advice, if you wanna keep all your teeth in your face and your nose unbroken, is that you consider your choices because we can show you what happened to Harry if you want motivation.”
His eyes widen in pure panic as if he only just realized exactly how much shit he's in. “Okay! Okay! Please don't hurt me. Please!”
Skyhigh grins wide. “That's all up to you now.”
“Honestly, I don't know his name. Goes by Brutus and I didn’t exactly ask for ID. Tall, built big… I don't know. Curly hair, short fuse.” He shrugs.
“Brutus?” Skyhigh frowns like it means something to him, but he doesn’t volunteer anything.
I tighten my grip on Bone’s shirt. “Something more concrete is a lot more likely to keep fists outta your face.”
“Shit. I don't know. I really fucking don't. He’s not consistent but he’s been trading me information for years and it’s always been solid enough to keep people happy. That's all I know about him and all I want to know.”
Frustrated, I toss him backwards into his seat with a growl, but much as I'd love to break his snotty little face, it's not gonna get me anything. “Here’s how it’s gonna be. If Brutus contacts you again, you’re gonna get on the phone to me before you do anything—and I mean fucking anything else—and spill it all. We are the only buyers for his info, and if I find out you've held out on us or not kept your mouth shut, we'll be back, and we won't be so fucking understanding.” I get up, dusting my hands off like I just touched something dirty.
“I swear. First thing. Absolutely” He's straightening his shirt, but following me real close with his eyes. Like I might just jump right back in there and change my mind.
Skyhigh gets up, too. “I hope for your sake that's true.”
“This was a waste of fucking time,” I growl on the way out.
“On the bright side, no one got shot.” Skyhigh laughs.
“Yeah, bright side.” I'm pretty sure I sound about as skeptical as I feel.
“Listen—” Skyhigh looks around. “Let’s get outta earshot first.”
Well, now I’m curious.
The bouncer gives us a wide berth as we leave.
“Whad’ya got?” Crank asks, arms crossed over his chest.
“Okay, this is a longshot.” Skyhigh throws his leg over his bike and settles in the seat. “Remember the collar we dug up? Tanner’s fucking dog was named Brutus. Odd for history to be showing its face twice in a row like that, but it’s too much of a coincidence to not mention it to Hellfire.”
“It’s a reach…” Dragon rumbles. “But weirder shit’s happened. Like you said, worth the mention.”
“Brutus isn’t that unusual. You think Tanner would use his fucking dog’s name as cover?” I dunno if I’m buying it.
Skyhigh shrugs. “Yes? No? It’s probably nothing.”
Poe shakes his head. “Go with your gut. Yeah, strange fucking coincidence, but it’s a potential lead.”
“Let’s report back and then go see if Willow’s up for a private party,” I suggest.
Dragon nods. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it? We might spend our day covered in blood and guts, and then go to her so she can smile and wash it the fuck away. I’ll take every second of goodness I can get, but if she saw us here, or down in the cells, would she even let us touch her?”
“We didn’t make this world, we just live in it,” Skyhigh answers. “If we did half this shit in uniform, we’d get medals of honor. That’s how fundamentally fucked up the system is.”
I catch Dragon’s eye and give him a nod. In this, I think we’re more alike. Skyhigh has his demons, but he knows who he is and what he’s worth. Shit, he even still has parents he talks to sometimes. Dragon was fucking tossed away, and I might as well have been born in the accident that stole my past twelve years ago. How long before she sees us for what we really are and I that look in her eyes changes?
It might be easier to just let her live her life. But I’m too fucking selfish for that.