Page 6 of Sin

“Well, then, that’s where you start. Figure out who you are and what you want, and sometimes that’s learning who you’re not. Not many people have an awakening.” She popped a chip into her mouth. “Tomorrow night we’re going to a bar.”

“Why?”

“Because you want to lose your V-card. A bar is the best place for a hookup.”

Adira went to say no, but stopped herself. How would she learn who she was and what she wanted to do if she didn’t explore? Even if the exploration left her uneasy. Time to break the protective shell cocooning her.

“Okay.”

****

“There are no decent women out there,” Ares said darkly. “I keep hiring women to be the damn hostess and they think I’m part of the job.”

“Well,” Hunter drawled. “You can’t really blame them, can you? You’ve kind of banged them all.”

Ares shot him a glower. “No. I don’t fuck employees.”

“Before they became employees.”

Ares flipped him off, and Hunter laughed. They were all alone in the empty strip club, The Pussy Willow, which closed at two in the morning. After all the closing chores had been completed, he had waved the skeleton crew a good night. He owed them big time for working so hard.

“If you’re having that much trouble, you can borrow a couple of my girls,” Hunter offered.

Ares shrugged. “I’ve put another ad in the paper. We’ll see how the interviews go, I guess.”

Hunter pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit it. He took a deep drag and then aimed the smoke upward. “Let’s get out of here.”

They headed outside and Ares locked up. “See you at home.”

Hunter nodded, took one more drag on his cigarette, and then flicked it away and pulled on his helmet. They roared out of the parking lot, heading to the clubhouse. Neither man had time to maintain a house, so they paid rent to the club. Sometimes Ares thought about having a home and a family outside of the Death Riders, but that would mean trying to date and he had no time for that. Besides, the only women he was around were club pussy, whores, and strippers. While he had no problem with their profession, he didn’t think it’d make a very stable environment for a child.

The remnants of the party still lingered. Several naked people were passed out in various places. Beer cans and bottles littered every surface. Drug paraphernalia lay on flat surfaces like the bar and pool table. Ares knew Brim would have a conniption if he saw that, considering how much money he shelled out to clean the felt the last time this happened.

“Someone’s gonna get their ass kicked,” Hunter mused, following his line of sight.

“Remind me to leave before he gets here.”

“Ditto.”

He said good night to Ares and headed for the stairs. Once in his room, weariness hit him, and he quickly pulled off his boots and clothes to take a shower. The hot water caused his tense muscles to relax. After drying off, he took his cholesterol medicine and slid into bed. A few seconds after his head hit the pillow, he was out.

Chapter Four

By the time Adira woke up late the next morning, Livia had already gone to her job as manager of a liquor store. She took time to wash and dry her hair, before connecting her laptop to the Wi-Fi before sitting at the table to do some research on The Pussy Willow.

Cardinal was an average Midwest town with about eight thousand people. The local motorcycle club, the Death Riders, seemed to own several businesses, including the only strip club within fifty miles, making it a very successful joint. Right next to it lay Belladonna. She didn’t like the word “whore,” so she thought of it as a red-light house.

Then, because she couldn’t help herself, she logged into her email where a dozen emails from her father, mother, and even Abel waited. Maybe she would’ve returned some of the emails had they been words of remorse. Maybe, if they would’ve apologized or shown any type of regret. Yet, not one word of acknowledging they were in the wrong. That they had broken God’s covenant.

So, she deleted each email without replying to any of them.

When Livia got home, they ate dinner and got dressed for the bar. Adira expected a biker bar, but they pulled up to a place where country music spilled outside. Surprised, she glanced at Livia.

“You’re not ready for anything hard core,” Livia explained. “At least here, we can line dance.”

Sounded like a plan.

Inside, the music poured through speakers, causing the floor to vibrate. Or perhaps that was due to the dancers and lines of people moving in a choreographed production. Everyone looked like they were having a great time, laughing as they repeated sequences of steps, dips, and twirls. It created a desire to get out there and learn it all.

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