Page 3 of Throttle

Tony and his men will kill anyone—men, women, children, your fucking dog—without batting an eye. But that’s not who the Disciples are. We don’t believe in that shit. Innocents don’t belong in the middle of business amongst men and bloodshed. Violence like that is reserved for the bastards who choose to deal with the devil. Leave the women and kids out of your bullshit. Fuckers like that deserve to be locked up like the fucking animals they are. Or put in the ground, whichever comes first.

I tuck my phone away, clearing my head of all thoughts of Tony Bertelli, while I take in the main room of the strip club. The Emerald Club belongs to the Disciples, and a lot of the brothers stop in here when they aren’t at the clubhouse. The layout resembles a sleek underground lair with vibrant green light reflecting off the walls. There are three platforms down front—a main stage bookended by smaller stages—each one currently occupied by a dancer.

It’s crowded tonight. Plenty of drinks are flowing while the thumping bass of the music vibrates in the air. Several patrons are lounging in the back on the plush chairs, receiving lap dances, while others gawk at the women shaking their tits on stage.

This is the kind of scene that would usually turn me on, but I’m not feeling it. Lately, I haven’t wanted just anyone to warm my bed, and that’s strange as fuck for me. I don’t know when it started—maybe around the time Sentinel, our club’s Vice President, met his old lady, Emma. He’s changed since she came into his life, and it seems for the better. He’s always been a man of action, no matter how twisted the deed. You could trust that he would get the job done, even if no one else would do it. But it’s as though Emma melts away the cold, hard parts of him when she’s around. He’s different with her. Lighter, almost. Happier. I’m glad he found himself a good woman. He doesn’t deserve to be alone and should have someone like her.

I take another sip of my beer, letting the bittersweet, amber liquid slide down my throat. As happy as I am for Sentinel, a twinge of guilt hits me whenever I think of my brother and his new woman. He wasn’t the only one captivated by Emma when she first arrived. She’s the kind of girl a man dreams about. But she belongs to my VP. He’d kill me if he knew I thought about her like that, and I’d deserve it too.

But when I met her, I knew my feelings ran deeper than lust. Talking to her made me consider what kind of life I could have if only I had a woman like Emma, how it would all play out if I stopped taking easy women to bed and drowning myself in liquor.

They may be faint, but these feelings for Emma still linger. However, never in my motherfucking life would I act on them. Sentinel is my brother, and I respect him too damn much to ever betray him like that. Disciples don’t do that kind of shit.

I tip back the rest of my beer before placing the empty bottle down on the counter. When the bartender reaches for another, I shake my head. I’m not planning on staying much longer.

Suddenly, three rapid taps on my shoulder get my attention. Val stands in front of me, and I take in her half-naked body. It was only a couple of months ago that I fucked her in one of the Emerald’s private rooms. She was a nice distraction at the time, and maybe that’s what I need tonight.

It’s obvious Val has shaped and altered her body to please the male gaze. When she dances on stage, you can’t deny the attention she receives from every man in the room. Her blond hair trails down her back in waves, the tips curling over her shoulders against her exposed, perfectly round tits. Her glittered body shimmers under the green lights, mirroring the shine of her glossy lips. Determination is evident in her expression as she stares at me with lust in her eyes.

She leans closer until her mouth is pressed to my ear. “Want me to dance for you, baby?”

I stare at her momentarily before shrugging and pulling out some cash. I’m already here, so why the hell not?

I tuck the bills into the string of her neon-pink thong. Then she takes my hand and leads me to an oversized chair at the back of the room—to a secluded, dimly lit corner where I’m sure she has plans for more than a dance. Val pushes me back into the seat and seductively sways her curvy hips to the beat of the music. She climbs on my lap, straddling me as her hands stroke and tease my chest. But I stare blankly at her, watching the way she licks her lips as though she can already taste me.

I fight back a sound of disgust at the sight. Something about her—about all of this—isn’t working tonight. I know the moment she realizes it too, because hurt flashes behind her eyes.

“You know you can touch me if you want. Throttle, you can touch me… anywhere.” She pushes her tits together and shoves them in my face while grinding her pussy against me.

Nope, today, that shit just isn’t sexy.

I close my eyes and sigh before tapping her ass. “Off.”

“What—” she starts to question, frozen in place after my terse command.

“Ain’t feeling it, sweetheart. Go find someone else.” My tone is dismissive as I watch her expression morph from confusion, to hurt, to anger.

“Fuck you, Throttle. There’re plenty of other big dicks around here. I certainly don’t need yours.”

I snicker at her fiery words as she climbs off my lap and storms away.

Several heads turn in her direction, all wanting a glimpse of her juicy ass. I’m sure she won’t be angry for too long. One of those bastards will be all too happy to throw some cash her way and cheer her up.

After checking in with Gamble, our brother who runs the Emerald, I leave the club, headed straight for my bike. I ride around Carnage with no real destination in mind, needing to ride and feel the night air on my face. There’s a restlessness inside me that I can’t decipher right now, and I have no idea where the fuck it’s coming from.

Val would have been the perfect distraction from the mess in my head, and she was damn sure willing to help. But I wasn’t interested in the slightest, no matter how much I wanted to be. I don’t want meaningless sex, and I don’t want to drink my problems away. I need something else. Crave something else. I just wish I knew what the fuck it was.

As the city lights flash by me, I think about Emma and how adoringly she looks at Sentinel. Is that what I want? Is that what’s leaving a hollowed-out space in my chest?

I’m tired of fucking thinking about this. I’m turning into a fucking old man.

I arrive back at the clubhouse shortly after midnight, exhausted out of my mind. Walking past the common area, I lift my hand in greeting but carry on to my room. Once inside, I immediately crash on top of the bed, not bothering to get undressed besides toeing off my boots.

That restlessness is still there, even after my night ride, but at least it’s more settled now. Finally, my eyes drift closed, and the room falls into a hazy darkness before everything goes black.

3

SIENNA

---