Page 7 of The Thug And His Doll

Inside the air is cloying and thick from a combination of sweat and the sheer number of people enjoying the music being performed by a live band called Princetown Bandits, according to the name scrawled across the bass drum. I’ve never really been into rock music, preferring folk and indie, but despite that, I appreciate they’re good musicians and pretty popular given the reaction of the crowd.

“MAMA! WHY IS IT SO LOUD?” Toby shouts up at me, his need for the toilet momentarily forgotten given the mixture of awe and horror on his face as he lets go of my hand and wraps his arms around my thigh.

“Let’s make this quick,” I reply, although at this point I’m pretty sure he can’t hear me as I pick him up and nudge my way through the crowd towards the bar, apologies spilling from my lips with each step. A few people eye me and Toby a little strangely, not that I can blame them given it’s past midnight and I’ve entered a bar with a child on my hip.

Like the rest of the place, the bar area is crowded with people, all vying for the bartender’s attention as they wave their money in the air. Right now he’s talking to someone at the other end of the bar, clearly finding something they’ve said amusing given he throws his head back and lets out a peel of laughter. Eventually, he makes his way towards the next punter, and all the while Toby is squirming on my hip. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s about to poop his pants or is enjoying the too loud music. Either way, I’m not going to get the bartender’s attention anytime soon. It’s not that I need a drink or anything anyway, I just need to know where the toilet is.

Turning to the man standing next to me, a tall guy with a black bristly beard and dark eyes under even darker eyebrows, I tap him on the arm. He looks down at where my fingers touch his arm, then slowly raises his eyes to meet mine.

I blanch at the look he gives me. “I’m so sorry to disturb you, but can you tell me where the toilets are?” Toby, sensing the same thing as me, seems to shrink a little under the man’s stare.

“This is no place for a child,” the man replies.

No shit, I think.

“We just need to use the toilet,” I reply, glad my voice is steady even if I feel far from it.

He points to the back of the bar. “Over there.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, stepping around him and through the crowd as Toby clings onto me like a spider monkey. I pull him close to my chest, hoping for once that I am as invisible as Martin always made me feel.

THREE

DRIX

“What the fuck?!” I exclaim, my attention drawn to the blonde from the cafe pushing her way through the crowd as she carries her son in her arms. They both look fucking terrified.

“What’s up Drix?” Dalton asks me, placing his glass of bourbon on the table and loosening the top button of his shirt, his Armani suit and Rolex better suited for the five star hotel he manages and not our friend’s bar. Not that anyone would try to rob him, he’s Dalton Gunn, only child to Carl Gunn, the head of one of Princetown’s four founding families, manager of Princetown Manor Hotel and Spa, and my best friend.

“Just give me a minute, okay? I’ve got something I need to deal with,” I reply, getting up just as one of Dalton’s regular booty calls steps up to the table.

“Drix,” the redhead says, flashing me a cocaine induced grin that does absolutely nothing for me.

“Heather,” I nod, casting Dalton a warning look that he completely ignores.

Instead his lips spread into a leisurely smile, his dark blue eyes sliding over her tight-fitting, low-cut dress that barely leaves anything to the imagination.

“Bring us both a drink on your way back,” Dalton orders, dismissing my glare and switching on his arsehole persona just like he always does whenever there’s a woman he wants to fuck around.

“She ain’t the one,” I caution, ignoring his cuntish remark.

Number one, I’m not his fucking servant, and number two he’s supposed to be finding himself a wife, not fucking around with women who use him as much as he’s using them.

“Tonight she is,” he throws back, pulling her onto his lap as she giggles.

“Then be sure to wrap it up,” I offer, knowing full well I won’t be seeing him for the rest of the night.

Dalton might be my best friend, but he’s also a sex addict who likes to piss his father off on the regular by fucking women and living up to his playboy reputation. Blowing out a breath, I leave one mess and walk right into another.

Pushing open the door to the corridor that leads to the toilets, which is where I’m assuming Lia was taking her son, I lean against the wall and wait outside the ladies room. After five minutes, and no sign of the pair, I push open the door and step inside. The first thing I hear is Lia cursing, and the second, the kid crying.

“Oh Toby, don’t cry, it’s not your fault,” Lia soothes, the soles of her shoes sticking out of the bottom of the stall.

“But I pooped my pants, and now I stink,” Toby replies, crying harder.

“Ah shit,” I mumble, stepping fully into the room, the door clicking shut behind me.

Frankly, I’m not sure this is something I should be getting involved in, and I consider leaving them to it, but when Toby cries in earnest I can’t bring myself to leave. Clearing my throat, I approach the stall.

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