Reaper's Property(59)

“Have Painter give you a ride,” said Max, coming up behind me and leaning against the back of my chair. He was kind of in my space, but nobody else seemed to notice so I just scooted forward, frowning. “It’s almost last call anyway. I’ll take everyone else to the Line, give him a break.”
Dancer smiled at him.
“That’s sweet, Max,” she said. “Let’s do it.”
Ten minutes later I was crammed in the back of her car with the others, Max following us on his bike. I expected Em to complain about catching a ride home with Painter, but she seemed happy enough with the situation. That surprised me because I thought I’d caught a hint of something between her and Max earlier. Apparently I’d imagined it.
It was almost two-thirty in the morning when we pulled up to the strip club. We stumbled and giggled our way across the parking lot, which was mostly empty. Then the sign flickered and turned off.
“It’s closed,” I said, stopping in my tracks. “We can’t go in.”
“Oh that’s the best part,” Darcy said, grinning at me. “It’s closed to the public, but we aren’t the public, babe. We can party as long as we want.”
“What about the dancers?” I asked dumbly. Max laughed behind me, putting a hand on the small of my back and pushing me forward.
“Don’t worry about them,” he said. “They’re not old ladies. They won’t get in your way.”
“Last time we were here, Dancer got up on stage and showed us her moves,” said Cookie, giggling. “It kicked ass. Well, it kicked ass for everyone but Horse. He looked kinda sick to his stomach.”
“I’m sober this time,” Dancer replied. “It’s your turn tonight.”
“You know, I think I will,” said Cookie with a grin. “I could do a little show in one of the private rooms. You film it for me and I’ll send it to Bagger on the computer. He’s always asking me to send him pictures. This’ll blow his mind!”
“He’ll definitely blow something,” Maggs replied, cackling.
A big black guy stood guard by the bar’s main entrance. He let us in without a word. I’d been inside with Horse the day before, but things were different tonight. For one, the lights were dim, which gave the whole place a completely different feel. Sort of murky and dirty. There were a few waitresses bussing tables and two bartenders restocking and cleaning up. A man wearing a Reapers’ cut sat in a booth counting money. Music still played and the center stage held one dancer working the pole. Below her sat several of the guys nursing beers, including Picnic, Ruger, Bam Bam, Boonie and a couple of others. I didn’t see Horse.
“Hey, baby,” yelled Darcy, sauntering down toward them. Just like the night before, Boonie’s face lit up when he saw her and he stood, turning his back on the naked chick slithering around the pole. He wrapped his arms around Darcy and they fell into another of those all-consuming kisses, oblivious to the world. Dancer and Bam Bam were a little more subdued with their greeting, but they disappeared off into a darkened booth without a backward glance.
“Fuck, I miss that,” muttered Cookie, and I glanced over to see tears in her eyes.
“Buck up, bitch,” said Maggs, giving her a little punch on the shoulder. “You wanna make a porno for your boy, you can’t be crying in it. That’s not his kink—unless you’ve been holding out on us?”
Cookie laughed, shaking off her melancholy with a visible force of will. These were strong women, I decided. Really strong women. I could learn from them.
“You know I draw the line at soft-core, no fetish stuff,” Cookie replied, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I’m gonna get drinks. Maggs, show the newbie where the VIP rooms are, will ya? And make sure it’s wiped down before I strut my stuff. My man likes his girls clean and tight, no sloppy seconds!”
She gave a little shimmy and we whooped, clapping. Maggs pointed me across the floor to a long, dark hallway.
“Rooms are over there, sugar,” she said. “I left my phone in the car, and I’m definitely gonna need my own personal copy of this for blackmail purposes. See you in a few.”
She pushed me toward the rooms. I crossed the floor to the hallway, feeling awkward as all get out. Dark doors lined the both sides of the hall, all of them closed. I had no idea what I’d find inside and exploring on my own felt weird. I decided to wait for Maggs. Then Max strolled up, offering me that same friendly smile he’d worn at the bar.
“You lost?” he asked. I shook my head.
“Not so much lost as a little out of my depth,” I admitted. “I guess Cookie’s gonna have us film her dancing for Bagger. She said to find a room, but I’m afraid to just start opening doors.”
“No prob,” he said, shrugging casually, although his eyes held a pleased gleam. “Follow me.”
Something felt off. My instincts said I shouldn’t follow him, but I couldn’t think of a reason not to and I was still pretty drunk. My drunken instincts weren’t so hot—Gary’d asked me to marry him after I’d just killed a six-pack.
When Max pointed me toward the last door on the right side of the hall, which had a little green light glowing above it, I hesitantly walked over and pushed it open. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the darkness and soft red light. Then I saw Horse sitting on a black leather couch against the wall, arms stretched out along the back. His shirt was off and an almost-naked, bleached-blonde woman straddled him. Her hips writhed against his and when she turned to look at us, I saw she had giant, obviously fake boobs. She wore a blue, sparkly G-string and nothing else.