Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Isidro
Iam definitely not dressed at my comfort level. A mesh shirt that hits my belly button, shorts that do not cover my juicy ass, and my combat boots. Needless to say, I am a brand new hire here at Club Blue Light, though I got very sketchy responses from both the bouncer and the owner.
I’m truthfully unsurprised because it’s not every day that you get an “innocent” omega dropped into your laps.
They could decide to alpha bark me so I can never leave, or play dumb so I’m their only legitimate hire.
There are too many ways to fuck over an omega, and it reminds me of how damn scary the world is when you’re down and out.
“Can you walk in heels?” the owner asks with a cigar sticking out of his mouth. I haven’t gone out onto the floor yet. He wanted to dress me first. I swear, I’m so glad I decided to come in here without my gun, or we’d be cooked.
“Yes,” I reply, even though I’ve never walked in them in my entire life. However, my balance is great. I’ll figure it out. “Do you have a pair large enough for my feet by chance?”
“Yeah. Those combat boots aren’t it for this place,” he muses. “Genevieve, can you come in here?”
Kyren showed me photos of Maeve as she appears now from stills he took from the cameras, and the woman walking into the room is definitely her. I’ve also seen Maeve as an eighteen year old, and she’s had a breast augmentation, as well as some face work done over the years.
These people need to all die, but we’ll only have time for a snatch and grab tonight. Sometimes, you have to do what you can.
“Yes, sir?” Maeve asks softly, her eyes on the ground as she comes in. The fact that this motherfucker has her bowing and scraping for him means he just went to the top of my kill list.
If I can manage to corner Dylan St. James, I plan to. One good twist of his thick neck is all I fucking need to end him.
“I need a pair of size thirteen heels, please,” Dylan says, still puffing on his cigar. The smell is noxious, and I can see that even Maeve’s nose is twitching in distress. “Get to it. We have someone new starting. No fraternizing.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, turning back toward the door. Her eyes fly up to meet mine as if to warn me to leave and run far away, but I can’t do that.
“Chop, chop, Genevieve!” Dylan barks at her, and she almost trips over her feet as she leaves. “Damn girl is dancing in the next fifteen minutes. I don’t have time for lallygagging, ya know? Can you dance, boy?”
Wonderful, I’m reduced to “boy”. That’s adorable.
Forcing myself not to shift on my feet, I nod. “Yes, sir. I’ve never done pole work before, but I’m sure I can manage.”
“Yes, well as long as you’re eventually naked, no one will care,” he says. “We have dancers to showcase people’s assets, and then our patrons can request to spend private time with them.”
Dylan watches me closely, waiting for me to balk, but I don’t. I’m not planning to be here long to ride some random man’s bean pole. However, I’ll do a damn good job of appearing as if I have no other option.
“Perfect. I do like my employees desperate,” Dylan muses, eating out of the palm of my hand. “If I had more time, I’d test out how tight your throat is—”
“I found them,” Maeve says breathlessly.
She’s a five foot four goddess. It looks like she ran for these black, very high monstrosity heels. I’m pissed off that Dylan very obviously forces the omegas against their will to get his rocks off.
“Thank you,” I murmur, taking the shoes from her.
“Off you go,” Dylan says, annoyed with Maeve. “I’ll have Judy show you the ropes, Rodrigo.”
I didn’t give my real name tonight, nor did they ask for any identification. A place this shady doesn’t need a paper trail, especially when they have sex trafficked omegas.
Nodding, I follow Judy to a back area, put on the stupid heels, and swallow hard when I stand. My ankles are going to be so pissed with me.
Maldita sea.
“Think you’ll be able to hack those heels?
” Judy snorts. She’s a tall, thin woman with tits that look as if they could topple her.
Her lips appear to be permanently twisted in a sneer, and it makes me want to back hand her.
“Let’s get you on a pole. Just don’t look like a baby deer caught in the headlights. ”
Dear brown, baby Jesus. Please don’t let me have to run in these heels. Please.
Stealing my spine, I take a step forward as she begins to walk away. It takes some effort, but I’m able to walk better if I’m in motion. My butt jiggles with each step, and I can tell my calves will be on fire later.
I have to give all women in the world major props for putting these torture devices on their feet.
I can feel the stares as I walk across the main floor, and it makes my skin crawl. I still walk tall, pretending it doesn’t bother me. These are men who enjoy breaking people. My hands are all I have for weapons, and they’re considered a death sentence because I don’t fight by the rules.
I will cheat, break necks, and kill without fear. My job is to get back to Silva alive.
“Let’s see what you got,” Judy says, pointing to a small stage. Music begins to play, and there’s enough of a beat for me to dance to.
My poor mother would be very unhappy to know that all of her dance lessons in the living room are being used in this way, but I’m here to right a wrong tonight. Maeve never should have been taken while out with her friends.
This is for her.
Stepping up onto the stage, I pull off my shirt with one hand as I walk, tossing it away as I strut.
Eat your heart out, assholes.
Harlan
Watching Isidro dance on the pole, his stomach muscles contracting as he swings around on it has my dick very interested.
“Why are those heels so fucking hot?” Kyren grumbles.
“Focus guys,” Syrus says in my ear. We all heard Izzy’s conversation with the owner in the office, and Syrus also heard his sister’s voice and identified her for us.
Glancing at the stage where “Genevieve” is dancing, I ignore the fact that she’s completely naked.
“Do you see anything you like?” a thin woman with very red lips and huge breasts asks. She's a manager of some kind.
“I do,” I reply, turning slightly toward her. “The girl with all the beautiful brown hair. What’s her name?”
I’m playing dumb because no one is announcing names of dancers as they get up there. It’s obvious that Kyren and I have never been here before, and I’m planning to lean into that.
“Genevieve,” she murmurs. “She’s a favorite at the club. Would you like a dance, or perhaps a private room?”
“My friend and I enjoy darker tastes and enjoy our privacy,” I explain, my lips twisting into a cruel smile. “We’d prefer a private room please.”
“Of course. Let me check to make sure we have something open,” she says.
This is the same woman that led Izzy out of the back room. She doesn’t look very friendly at all.
She's also not very fast at her job. Genevieve’s set ends, and she winds through the different tables to mingle with the patrons. Others are already dancing on laps while naked, sucking cock nearby, or flirting.
Basically, they’re doing what they’re told to do.
It makes me want to kill everyone, and I can feel the tension in Ky’s body, though he appears to the outside world to be enjoying the club.
The woman, Judy, comes back and collects Izzy from the stage.
His gaze meets mine for a second, and then he’s walking toward a table dressed in nothing but a tight black pair of briefs and his heels.
I know he’ll be fine. I really do. Alpha barks don’t work on him, and he’s done all kinds of immersive undercover work in the past. The problem I have is that he doesn’t have the safety of “being” a beta here.
As he passes near us, I can smell his sweet scent, meaning everyone can as well. What can I say? I really fucking hate it.
“Keep it together. You’re growling,” Kyren mutters. “He’s fine.”
Gritting my teeth, I force myself to relax as Judy comes back to me.
“My apologies. Genevieve is currently busy, but will be with you soon. Follow me?” she asks.
Standing to keep myself from bitching at her, I nod. Kyren has a well polished mask set over his features that betray none of the fury he’s feeling.
“That bitch,” Syrus says in my ear, saying what I want to.
Crossing the room, I force myself to ignore the moans and sounds of blow jobs as I pass omegas on their knees. Genevieve is one of them, and I decide that if it’s within my power, Judy will be losing her life tonight.
It’ll have to be quick, but dead is still dead. There is no time for theatrics and torture tonight.
She’s had us waiting for over an hour, and that’s kind of unacceptable. I have an odd feeling. Have we been made?
The door Judy opens reveals an empty room, and she smiles tightly as we investigate.
“Maybe you are like the rest of our patrons,” she muses. “It’s a very busy night. I do apologize for the wait. Genevieve will be in as soon as possible.”
Kyren closes the door with a nod, and neither of us say a word as we look around the room for cameras.
“I don’t see anything,” he mutters.
“Doesn’t mean there isn’t one somewhere,” I sigh.
Though, Kyren is trained to find surveillance devices, which means if he can’t, it doesn’t exist. He even gets on the floor and looks under the chairs before shrugging and sitting down.
“Everyone okay?” Syrus asks in my ear.
“Mmmhmm,” I respond, knowing he doesn’t need a long reply. My heart is racing slightly with concern, but Kyren is sprawled out, pretending we’re having a great time.
Our personas at work are to play into whoever we’re pretending to be. My persona? Slightly irritated at having to wait. We can’t both be chill.
Kyren runs his fingers through his red hair, ruffling it slightly as the minutes pass by. There’s background music lightly playing, but it doesn’t ease my worry in the least.
Though Izzy is out on the floor, his job is to also play the part of a sex worker. He can’t make a move until we’re ready for it.