Kings of Chaos (Dirty Broken Savages #1)(67)

“Business or pleasure tonight, Ash?” Celia asks.

She knows me well, and while it might not be like Gage to drink on the job, I’ve never had a problem mixing the two aspects of my life.

“Business tonight,” I say, flashing her a smile. “Just checking in.”

“All quiet tonight. Well, quiet as it can be. We’re running low on the good gin, though.”

“I’ll make a note for supply. Anything else?”

“Can I get a raise?”

I roll my eyes. “Anything else realistic?”

Celia makes a face at me and then shakes her head. “Not that I can think of. It’s shaping up to be a good night.”

“Great. That’ll keep Gage happy.” I rap my knuckles against the bar and she gives me a little salute before heading down the bar to take someone else’s order.

I make my way through the crush of people to the hallway that leads to the back office. The door closes behind me as I enter it, muffling the noise of music and people enough that I can hear myself think again, and I go sit at the desk to finish up some paperwork.

It’s usually Gage’s place to sit. His ‘throne’ as Knox usually jokes. But we all pull our weight around here. I’m better with people, so I tend to be the one to check on the dancers and bartenders, making sure they have what they need. Every once in a while, though, I get my hands dirty with paperwork.

I go over the supply lists for the next week, adding a note about the gin and upping our usual order since we’re going through it faster.

Every so often, I pause to spin the pen in my fingers, twirling it in intricate patterns with ease before writing down something else.

Usually, this kind of work is boring but at least active enough that I don’t fall asleep doing it. It’s the kind of shit that has to be done one way or another. But tonight, my mind doesn’t want to focus on numbers and neat little budgeting columns.

Instead, I’m thinking about River. And Priest, of all people.

I’m thinking about how River looked on Priest’s piano, spreading herself open and touching herself just inches from his face like she wasn’t afraid he might snap and kill her right there.

She’s a brave little thing, that’s for sure.

It was hot as fuck, watching her through the gap in the door. She didn’t close it all the way when she went in there to bother Priest.

I was ready to intervene when he got up from the piano like he was going to hurt her, but instead, he just threw her down on the couch and made her fall apart. Just seeing her arching and gasping for breath while he held her down and made her come was…

Fuck.

It was hot as hell.

Not everyone could take that. Or would get off on it.

But River was into it. It looked like it made her come harder, how rough he was with her.

It’s just more proof that there’s something about her brokenness that fits with ours.

I’ve known Priest since we were both young, but he hasn’t been the same for years. He just shut down after Jade died. None of us have pushed him by trying to make him change or telling him he needs to move on. Just like none of the others really give me shit for being a man whore. We just accept each other as we are and have each other’s backs no matter what.

But without even trying to, without even knowing what she’s changing, River is changing us. All of us.

Priest wasn’t wrong when he said she would be trouble, but I still think it’s good trouble. She seems like she gets it, like she’s just another part of the group that’s been through some shit and is handling it and living her life as best she can in the aftermath.

There’s something really fucking appealing about that.

I twirl the pen between my fingers while I think and then sigh. The fucking paperwork isn’t going to get done if I keep daydreaming my way through it, so I go back to work, filling out forms and signing off on shit that needs to go out.

Part of running a business—even one that deals in illegal shit under the table—is actually needing to run the business. Who knew?

As I’m working, the door opens. I look up, expecting one of the other guys to come in, but instead it’s Bethany, one of the dancers.

I’ve hooked up with her before, and I can tell from the smirk on her face that she’s looking for a repeat of that tonight.

“Whatever happened to employees only?” I ask dryly, lifting an eyebrow and jerking my chin at the sign on the door.

“I’m an employee,” she practically purrs.

“You know that’s not what it means.”

She giggles and shrugs. “It’s not clear. I heard you were back here, and I wanted to come say hi.”

“Hi, Beth.”

“Aww, is that all I get?” she asks with a pout. “Not even a kiss for coming all the way back here to see you?”

“We both know you want more than a kiss.”

“And we both know you’re not complaining.”

Usually, I wouldn’t be. Bethany is hot as hell, like pretty much all the dancers we have working here. I picked most of them out myself, after all.

She’s tall and leggy, with great tits and a killer ass. Her hair is a mess of curls that she keeps pushed back out of her face with a little cat ear headband, and she’s barely wearing anything.