Page 77 of When Sinners Hate
I pull into the parking lot, get out, and look over the cars already here as I walk in. Carmen’s and Knox’s are already side by side, and I can hear Dante’s coming along the road behind me somewhere. Goddamn Mustangs make too much noise for their own good.
Knox comes striding towards me as I make my way through the halls. I move sideways to block him. “We need to finish our conversation about Reed.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got a meeting now.” He looks up and behind me. “Jesus. Are you ever not covered in blood?” I turn my head to see Dante walking in.
He pulls his shirt off and wipes his face and hands over with it, tucking the shirt into the back of his pants. “You’re the one who gave me the fucking list.”
“It’s ten in the morning.”
Dante keeps moving past us, a dark chuckle rumbling through him. “Yeah, well, beatings come at all times of the day.”
Knox starts moving again before I get a chance to stop him. “Look, I’m late. Call me and we’ll get together. I’ve got more intel now and we need to plan it out. I’m not hiding shit; I’m just really late. Fuck knows why people do this time of day anyway.” His hand goes up in the air, signalling he’s finished discussing anything for now, so I scowl and carry on after Dante.
By the time I get to the main floor, eighteen women are attempting to pull all the moves to the kind of music we’re used to in here. I go straight behind the bar and watch Dante sinka few drinks from a bottle of whisky, so crack open a couple of sodas and shove one in front of him. “You need to slow down on the booze, Brother.”
He glares at me. “Fuck you. You see this shit on me? Just about every damn day it happens. Under your orders. If I need a goddamn drink to ease it off, I’ll have one.”
“I’ll let Wren know you felt that way when we put you in the ground because of cirrhosis.” Shock, or maybe fear, crosses his face. “Yeah. Or maybe I’ll tell her the day she marries someone else and raises your kids with him.”
“AGAIN!” Carmen pulls both our attention. She carries on shouting at one of the girls, reducing her to tears about some inadequacy. She whines and keeps crying, making herself pointless in my eyes. I don't even need to say anything before Carmen’s dragging her off the stage to put her back in the cage she came from. Dumb-ass bitch had a chance here. Not anymore.
I keep watching the others and drink my soda, then cross the floor to get to the side of the podiums. My head tilts as I watch one of them. Red hair. Curvy and wearing just about nothing. She looks down at me and fucks that damn pole like she owns it, licking her tongue up it and trying to get me interested. I’m not. She probably fucks well enough by now, but I’m not interested in anything that reduces itself to this kind of life. They’re nothing but dollar signs in my eyes. This one’s gonna make me a lot of money.
“Carmen?” She leaves the other girl and comes over, meek in nature, considering our last conversation. “This one for Mariana.”
“She’s not one of the new intakes.” I keep watching, as she swings high and splits her legs for me. Dante arrives by my side, swilling back his soda now he’s understood what he might lose.“She’s from Vegas. Looking for work. I thought I’d bring her down for you to see. Chance found her.”
She comes to a stop and stands still for me, slowly turning herself around so I can get a good look at everything she’s offering. “Hey, baby,” she coos. Dante snorts and slaps me on the back, walking away and still chuckling to himself. She drops down onto her knees, moving her way to my face. “You wanna try me out first? I’ll ride you real good.”
“Back the hell up before I change my mind. Last thing I’m doing is fucking a whore.” Her self-importance shrivels to the level it should be, and she slumps back on her sorry ass rather than try any more of that shit with me. Still, that’s the kind of crap that works on other men, and she looks like she’ll be good at doing what I need her to do. “Name?”
“Lauren Astley.”
“Hmm. Let Mariana see her.” I turn and head back to the bar. “She can make the call. If she says yes, get her branded up like the rest.”
“Branded?” the woman shouts.
I stop and look back at her. “Yes.” I angle myself so she can see Dante’s frown in the darkness. “He does it. You want to work for me, then you sit like a whore should and you let him put our mark on you.” She shrinks back towards the pole, probably not one bit fucking happy about that information. “Or you can just walk on out of here right now. What’s it gonna be? I either own you or I don’t. There’s no in-between.”
She keeps staring at Dante rather than me, then starts smiling like a bitch in heat. That’s as stupid as trying to play me. No way is she going to change his mind when the time comes with what she’s thinking about. “Okay,” she says.
“Good.”
We sit for the rest of the day and keep watching parades of women. Once the first lot are done, I scrutinise the next untilI have a list of venues they’ll all be transported to. Thirty of them aren’t going anywhere near our places. They’ll be shipped across the country and hired out to contacts. The rest of them will end up working here on rotation, where they’ll dance and fuck to see if they can get the clients spending big.
They only get one shot at staying with us in San Antonio – either here or the Bourbon Lounge. One week in our lead venues to see if we can make a decent profit off them. They do, and they get the kind of life we can provide for them. It’s as safe and secure as it gets. They don’t, and I either push them to some of our lower ranking places, or I send them the fuck away and take my cut of the profit they make in some other shit hole. I don’t need them bringing our reputation down. And there’s always Chance’s ventures for the truly useless.
A coffee gets placed down in front of me, and I look up to see Dante hovering.
“You all good?” he asks. I nod and drink the coffee, about done here and ready to get somewhere cleaner than this place provides. “And Lexi?”
“Yeah, she’s fine.”
“Do we need to discuss what you’re going to do about her father?”
I pull in a long breath and stare at the last girl dancing. He’d be dead by now if I hadn’t been thinking hard about it, but whatever I might feel about his behaviour towards her, or what that behaviour means to me and my business, I’m not sure killing the piece of shit is the right call. “He’s still her father, Dante. No brother anymore. No mother. Nothing other than us.”
He sits and nods, presumably knowing exactly how I’m feeling about the situation. “But she’s your wife. And it’s just plain fucking wrong. Using your child like that? Makes my damned blood boil.”