Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
PIGGY
As I step up to the club, I smirk at the sight of the neon sign in the window. It’s an arrow that makes an L shape, with letters that spell out LIVE NUDES and a girl sitting in it, clearly naked. There are some others, too, but that stands out to me.
Everything has been ironed out with Lorenzo.
His men will be reassigned elsewhere by the end of the week while we take over security here.
I was honestly surprised he agreed to everything without much pushback.
I think it’s because he wants to use us for other things, and he knows that this is just the beginning.
Maybe I should care. Maybe we shouldn’t be getting into bed with him and the Front mob family.
But then again, maybe it will be nice to just work and not focus on building a business.
We’ve gone through a lot of changes and drama lately, and I can’t deny that I’m ready for a bit of calm in our storm.
The bouncer at the door jerks his chin, likely recognizing us from the sting operation we did not long ago. I ignore him as I walk past. He doesn’t make a move or even call out for me to stop. Which is good, because I wasn’t going to.
The lights inside the club are dim, the music is loud, and I keep my focus straight ahead. Although that’s hard to do, because all I want to do is look for her.
See her.
Every part of her.
Just a glimpse.
Bullet, Viking, and Goose are with me. The four of us make our way straight to the office in the back of the building.
Instead of being the first to reach for the office door, I let Bullet do that. He’s the president. Anything that is negotiated and agreed upon needs his approval. He’s the one in charge. Even though I want to be the one in the middle of this, it’s not my place.
“Oh, good,” Bennet calls out as soon as we walk into the room. “You’re here.”
Goose, being the last through the door, closes it behind him as we move farther into the space. Spreading my feet, I cross my arms across my chest, dipping my chin slightly as I look down my nose at him.
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about any of this.
I want to be pissed that Millie is here, but I know it’s not Bennet’s fault.
Even if I want to hate the guy, I can’t, at least not yet.
I dislike the way he’s allowing Lorenzo’s men to run security here.
It’s insufficient. They are disastrous, really, and going to get someone killed.
“Have a seat and let’s get down to business. Lorenzo gave me a heads-up about the changes that will be happening around here regarding security. The only issue I have is the way you look.”
“The way we look?” Bullet asks, even though he knows exactly what Bennet is referring to.
He’s made it clear in the past that we are too rough to work here. We’ll scare the clients or some such shit, bring down the value of the place. I personally don’t give a shit, but I understand what he’s saying as well.
He wants to charge these guys a fuckton of money for drinks and private rooms. He wants the clientele to be willing to pay even more than a fuckton for dances, too.
“The leather and jeans aren’t going to work for me,” he states.
It’s a simple statement. I understand it, but at the same time, the way he says it is a bit much. As if he truly has the final say, which he doesn’t. But I know that Bullet isn’t going to tell him to shut the fuck up, not on this.
Bullet clears his throat, shifting in his seat slightly, then leans forward a bit. I watch in silence, waiting for him to speak. I can’t tell if this is going to be a come-to-Jesus moment or if he’s going to be more agreeable and levelheaded.
“As much as I want to tell you that I don’t give a fuck what works for you and what doesn’t, I do understand business. I understand what you’re building here and how you want your club represented. Any man who is in the forefront of the club will be wearing a uniform of sorts.”
“What type of uniform?” Bennet asks.
My lips twitch into a smirk as Bullet shifts slightly in his seat again. I can tell it’s taking a lot for him not to be a smart-ass. If I open my mouth, I’m going to personally be an ass, and Bullet hasn’t told him to go fuck himself yet, so I feel like he’s winning and a bigger person than me.
“Black pants, white shirt,” Bullet states.
“Hair and shoes?” Bennet asks.
Goose grunts but otherwise doesn’t say anything. I can tell that, like me, he’s got something he wants to say, though. Thankfully, he decides to keep his mouth shut. We don’t need to ruin this before it begins, even if Bennet is being annoying as fuck.
“Black boots. We’re compromising a lot here already,” Bullet murmurs. “Hair will be either neatly pulled back or combed.”
Bennet nods a few times, then his gaze flicks to mine. I’m a bit surprised that he is staring at me. I’m in this meeting, but I don’t know how much I really have to do with any of this. I mainly demanded to be here out of pure nosiness and because I wanted a chance to see Millie again.
Bennet stands from his chair and takes a step to the side to move away from it, then takes one backward. He doesn’t break eye contact with me as he does this.
His stare would be unnerving to someone else, maybe even slightly intimidating, but I’m not just a Vicious Reaper, I’m also law enforcement, and no amount of staring is going to intimidate me… ever.
“Bennet,” I call out when he continues to stare yet says nothing.
His tongue slides across his bottom lip before he clears his throat. “You’re a cop,” he states.
I stare at him, unsure of what he wants me to say about that.
It’s a fact he knows and has known. It’s not front-page news, and it’s not something I’ve pretended doesn’t exist. So instead of responding, I arch a brow and match his stare, waiting for whatever the fuck he thinks he’s going to enlighten me with.
Which he won’t, but I’ll let him talk anyway.
“Is there any way we can get the club off any kind of… list?”
I almost laugh in his face, but instead play really fucking stupid as to what he’s asking me. “List?” I ask.
He jerks his chin in my direction, and I suck in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I lean forward slightly. “I can’t put you on or take you off any lists. I don’t even know if they exist.”
I’m sure they do. I have no doubt that plainclothes come in here every now and again, claiming to ensure there isn’t anything illegal happening, though I doubt they actually get any farther in their investigations than the door.
I have a hard time believing they actually do anything about anything they may or may not find.
“Yes, you do. Make a call, ensure everyone’s protection…”
His words trail off, and the way he’s looking at me, I can’t help but wonder if he knows something. If he knows anything about Millie and me, about the past. Our past. I start to open my mouth to ask him, but I decide against it and clench my teeth together tightly.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I mumble.
“All I can ask. Now,” Bennet continues, clapping his hands together before rubbing them back and forth a few times, “let’s get down to scheduling and shit.”
And so, scheduling is what we do. At least we get a spreadsheet of hours and when he needs us to be here. Before the girls get here and after the girls leave. Walking them to their cars, ensuring that no customers linger, all that kind of normal shit that should be going on now but doesn’t.
With the meeting finished, we all take turns shaking Bennet’s hand, then turn to walk out of the office, when there is a knock on the door. Bullet is slightly in front, so he takes a step forward and opens the door.
“Oh fuck,” he hisses. Then, as if it were happening in slow motion, he turns his head, looking back over his shoulder at me. “Millie.”
MILLIE
There, standing right in front of me, is Bullet.
I haven’t seen him in ten years. He looks just as good as he did back then…
Well, if I’m being completely truthful, he looks better.
I didn’t know that was even possible, that any of these men could look better, but they do.
And as he turns his head to look back over his shoulder, my knees tremble.
Because there, in the flesh, is Axton staring back at me.
Beautiful, tall, muscular as hell, and his eyes are the color of midnight as they bore straight into mine. I want to wrap my arms around him, something that I have to use some serious self-control about.
I knew it had been him all those weeks ago. I’m pretty sure if I checked the parking lot, I would find his pickup truck there, too, the same one that’s been following me around. I have no doubt about it.
Not that I could even ask him. My mouth is so dry that I don’t think I can actually speak. Instead, I just stare at him. At Axton. He’s beautiful, definitely looking much better than he did ten years ago.
Different and better.
He’s a little bigger, his muscles having bulked up and filled out. His hair is still dark, but I can see a few speckles of silver peeking through. He’s clean-shaven, his arms bare of tattoos, but I know there are some on his chest. I’ve seen them… I’ve tasted them.
“Millie,” he rasps, taking a step forward, then another, and another until he’s standing so close to me that all I would need to do is lift my hand and I would be touching him.
“Axton,” I exhale.
Instead of speaking, he’s on the move again. Bullet slides to the side, giving Axton some room. His boots are stomping toward me, and then I feel his arm around my waist, and my body is lifted into the air.
I don’t even have a moment to cry out before my body is turned. Then I’m shrouded in darkness, and I have no idea where we are until I hear a light switch flick, and then a low light fills the small place.
We’re in a janitor’s closet. I can smell the cleaner fumes, but I don’t care, because Axton’s scent is stronger than bleach. I open my mouth to ask him what he’s doing, but don’t get the chance to say anything before his lips are pressed against mine and his tongue slides deep inside my mouth.
He kisses me—long, deep, wet, and absolutely thigh-trembling perfect.
Nothing else matters.
The past? What’s that?
The future? Don’t know her.
The present? Everything.