Page 2 of Red My Lips

Violently and repeatedly.

You’d think they’d learn, because I’m definitely not the first female bartender at the club they’ve asked to do a shot with them. But they never do. I’m not here to party or dance. I’m fucking working. And if they refuse to learn, I’m happy to be their final lesson.

“Three shots of Patron, and pour one for yourself, sexy.”

I suck in a calming breath before looking up at the man leaning over the bar, tapping his credit card against the counter. He’s as generic looking as they come—the leering eyes that stare none too subtly at my big tits, the cocky smile meant to be charming, and the plastic credit card he’s trying to stretch past its default limit.

“No can do, handsome. I’m on the clock.” The practiced line flows from my mouth with ease. I’ve worked here at Inferno—Chicago’s most popular and expensive nightclub—long enough to know not to bite the hand that feeds me. Telling off every man who makes me want to grab a sharp object and start slashing—however tempting it might be—would severely affect my tips. And I need to make as much money as I can right now.

Working at this nightclub isn’t my idea of a good time. It’s not my idea at all. I miss bartending at the luxury hotel bar I worked at up until a few months ago—before everything happened. But I’m here to work off my brother Tommy’s debt to the owner of the club. The loan sharks didn’t exactly give me a choice in the matter. The money isn’t coming from Tommy, so it was either pay up or suffer the consequences. So now I belong to Inferno, and whatever money I earn goes towards the debt.

Walking into Inferno feels like stepping through the gates of Hell—if Hell was full of people fueled by booze and had seven-star service. The entire building is shrouded in red lights, dancing off the matte black walls like flames that engulf the space with hedonism. Fog machines in the rafters above the dancefloor meet red lasers that cast a red haze over the dancers. The music is always blasting, and energy is always high.

Inferno is never lacking in work or tips. The sheer number and caliber of clientele that walk through the doors every night keeps the drinks flowing and the minimums high. You have to pay to play here, something even basic frat boys are learning the hard way with every swipe of their credit cards.

Filling orders left and right—a muddled cocktail here, a round of shots there—I keep an eye out for any familiar faces in the crowd. Having worked in the service industry for a while now, I know that regulars mean better tips. They might be annoying, but you know what they say about making deals with the devil you know.

My eyes lock on the blond man moving through the crowds past the bar, greeting partiers like a king greets his subjects—his self-importance is astounding. Jonas Firth is the previous owner of Inferno, up until about two weeks ago. Rumor has it he lost ownership over a high-stakes poker game. I don’t doubt it for a second. The bastard thinks he’s invincible, and I know how much he loves a poker game. Even after losing the best nightclub in the city, he’s strutting around like he’s untouchable.

Fucker.

The image of my brother’s ransacked apartment, covered in blood and damage that the police called ‘evidence of foul play’ in Tommy’s disappearance, has hatred bubbling through me like acid. He’s the reason my brother is missing and assumed dead. Up until recently, Jonas had been my living nightmare.

When my brother got in too deep with his gambling debts, it was Jonas and this club that he lost to. My brother dug himself into a three hundred and twenty-five thousand dollar hole he couldn’t climb out of. And when he couldn’t come up with the money, they took his life instead.

The authorities think there’s a possibility Tommy is still alive, and they promise they’re looking into it. But a gambling addict with a history of skipping out on his debts isn’t exactly a top priority on their list of missing persons.

I believe Tommy’s dead. I know my brother better than anyone—the good and all the bad—and he wouldn’t have gone this long without trying to contact me if he were able. He’s gone, and I know who’s responsible.

My eyes track him as he makes his way past the dance floor. Jonas Firth is the farthest thing from invincible. He doesn’t know it yet, but he will. I’m going to show him just how easy it is to make him bleed. My heart rate spikes with excitement, adrenaline rushing through my veins until I’m lightheaded. It’s been a long time coming. I’ve bided my time, and tonight is it.

Tonight, Jonas Firth dies.

I’m going to enjoy this.

“Jill, go change.” My manager’s voice pulls me back into the moment. “The new boss wants you on service.” I open my mouth to agree as a habit before realization sets in.

I’ve done bottle service before, and there’s a reason I like to stay behind the bar. I have no qualms about doing what needs to be done to earn the good money. A desperate woman can’t be picky. But if I’m going to be forced to work in Hell’s Inferno, I would prefer a good three feet of counter space between me and the customers. I thought Jonas being gone meant I was safe from pimping myself out.

“I’m a bartender, Miranda. Jonas is gone. I don’t do bottle service anymore.”

“You do tonight,” she states. Noticing my glare as I place my hands on my hips, she sighs. “Please, Jill. This isn’t my decision. They asked for you specifically, and new ownership means a whole new set of rules.”

“Fine,” I concede.

“Thanks, doll. I don’t want either of us getting fired tonight. I can’t handle this place without you.”

Not that I would get fired. Or even could get fired from this place. I’m already working here against my will.

“Which table?” I pull my apron from around my waist and toss it below the counter.

“VIP.”

“Gold?”

“Executive lounge.” High rollers. “You have fifteen minutes. Go get changed. Trinity will meet you in the stairwell with the bottles.”

I huff out a sigh, making sure to get dramatically louder as I pass her on my way out from behind the bar, laughing as she swats me with her towel. “Tits up.”

---