Chapter Fourteen
Zeppelin
“Gotta make this quick. I got plans tonight,” I say as Pacino and Rooster follow me into Velvet Desire.
The number of undercover cops showing up at the brothel has increased since starting the fire at Officer Vold’s house. Pacino has a facial recognition program that runs every client’s face when they walk in the door to compare against photos of cops in three counties.
Trying to take down the only place that can and will give him any action is a stupid decision by Vold, but he’s clearly a stupid man.
“Hot date?” Pacino asks.
It’s clear he suspects Chanel’s coming over, but he has to know that she never lets me know ahead of time. She just shows up. Somehow knows when I’m not on a run.
“Babysitting.”
His head snaps to look at me with so much force I worry he gave himself whiplash. “Say that again?”
“I’m babysitting,” I say, the disbelieving stare annoying me. “It’s Gloria’s granddaughter’s kid. I’m helping her out.”
“You’re… babysitting?”
“Really, I’m just hanging out with the kid. Bernie was supposed to be with her grandparents after school today, but they can’t come until tomorrow. Misty has plans, so I offered to hang out with Bernie. It’s not a big deal.”
“Someone trusts you to watch their child?” Rooster asks with a chuckle. “Does she like her child?”
Pushing him against the wall by the office, I point my finger in his face. “Don’t be surprised to wake up to a wild turkey in your fucking bed.”
Hands up, he shakes his head. “I was just asking. You know… because you’re only good for the practicing to make kids.”
That part is true. I’m really fucking good at that. “Look, Bernie and I are friends.”
“Bernie Reynolds?” Pacino asks. “Isn’t she the one with…”
He trails off, and I understand Misty’s reaction now. “Down Syndrome. Yeah, but that’s not who she is. Just like that scar on your face isn’t who you are.”
“I wasn’t saying anything bad,” he says, his hands up.
I know he wasn’t, but it’s hard not to get defensive of Bernie. She’s the first person who showed me true friendship without expecting anything in return outside of the club. And she didn’t run away screaming when she saw my leather like most people would.
“She’s a fucking genius,” I say.
Rooster tilts his head, a smirk still on his face. “Compared to you…? Because I get—”
My fist against his shoulder knocks him to the ground and effectively shuts him up. As nice as it is to have someone around who isn’t a grouch like Pacino or Kannon, Rooster can get on my last fucking nerve sometimes.
And he wonders why we like to bring him around the things he’s so damn terrified of. If he could learn when to shut his mouth, it wouldn’t be a problem.
“She’s eight, and she’s incredible. Makes complicated shit too damn simple, and she helped me. I finally did something I should’ve done years ago.”
“What’s that?” Pacino asks.
No one but Misty knows, and it feels weird to admit to my brothers. “I told Chanel to stop coming around. To stay the fuck away because I’m done.”
“For how long this time?” Rooster asks.
This time, Pacino handles it, bouncing Rooster’s head against the wall. “You talk too fucking much.”
“For-fucking-ever,” I snap at him.
“Good for you.”
Rooster gives me a disbelieving look, his head hitting the wall not affecting him in the least. Says a lot about him, actually. And I can’t really fault him for it. I know Pacino feels the same.
There have been times in the past when I’ve said the same thing. That I was done and never letting her back in, but it never lasted very long. This time, though, feels different.
“Look, Chanel stopped by a couple days ago, and I turned her down. Told her to go back to her fiancé. I was done, and I left her on the porch as I drove off.”
“Wow, you are serious this time,” Pacino says.
Biting my lower lip, I nod. “Yeah. Bernie asked me why I let her treat me like shit. Had no answer for that one. She made me think.”
“And your head’s still intact? That’s impressive,” Rooster says.
I open the supply closet while Pacino pushes him inside, a satisfying splash of water making us both smile. Followed by a crash of something that earns a groan from Rooster
“Come on, guys, now my jeans are wet,” he groans. “And that fucking hurt. What fell on my head?”
We turn on the light and help him out of the mop bucket before bursting out into laughter. The box that landed on him is a bulk order of strap ons. This really couldn’t have gone better.
“After I refused to let her in, I lit a cop’s house on fire. Made the day much better.”
Pacino laughs. “The same motherfucker we’re here to blacklist?”
“Yep.”
“What’d he do again?”
“Fucked me over and chose the Venom.”
“Fucker deserved it,” Rooster says.
Laughing, I slap Pacino’s shoulder. “Look, he does have relatively intelligent comments to make sometimes!”
“Ha ha.”
Rooster struggles to walk normally with his ass wet from the bucket, and it really was deserved. As much as I love him, he talks way too fucking much for his own good. And doesn’t realize just how easily we could kick his ass.
“Hey, Pacino, can you do me a favor when you have time? I want to know about Bernie’s dad. I don’t know anything other than his name is Ben, but I’m guessing he’s probably on her birth certificate.”
He nods. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Queenie, our madam in charge of Velvet Desire, walks around the corner. “You got pushed into the supply closet again?”
“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.”
I stop at the door and turn to him. “If you had, there might’ve been a discount being with Angel. You’d still have your wife and kids at home. Hell, you’d have a home. Working with me wouldn’t have been all that bad, but you’re an idiot.”
This seems to stun him because he has no comeback. Instead, it’s like I can see the lightbulb going off in his mind.
“Tell me, what have you gotten from the Venom besides money in your account? Can that money buy back everything you’ve lost?”
“Fuck—”
“Two minutes, and then I’m calling your boss directly.”