Page 48 of The Afterthought

"You let me handle Greyson Hayes. He's got a weakness now."

"Greyson doesn't have a weakness," one of the voices says.

"That's where you're wrong," the familiar voice says. I already know they are referring to me. "Greyson will find his way to a nice prison cell soon enough. I've already got something in mind to get him in control."

Fury courses through me at the mention of Grey's name. What the fuck are they trying to set him up for? The Cobras plan to steal drugs from the Crimson Rose to finance some sort of trafficking ring. I can't let this happen. Grey needs to know exactly what's going on if he doesn't already.

I bring the tray of drinks to the small table in front of the couch the three men are sitting on. One of the men is wearing a weird mask that covers the entirety of his face. I try not to look at him too long because I can tell by his body language that he's uncomfortable with me being back here. I’m uncomfortable too, considering he was just implying I’m Greyson’s weakness.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" I question, but nobody answers.

The men simply take their drinks off the tray and place their empty glasses on it. My eyes catch sight of a familiar birthmark on the masked man's hand, and immediately, I know why one of the voices sounded familiar. The masked man is Sheriff Wolfe.

I lean in to grab the tray, pretending I don't have any knowledge of who he is or the things that were said just before I walked into the room. All I want to do is finish my shift without drawing attention to myself and let the Crimson Rose know what I've learned tonight. I only have an hour left until the club closes, and I can safely relay the information.

I never thought I would be willingly helping out a gang, but when it comes down to it in this town, you are either on one side or another. I've tried my best to stay out of it, but this is important.

The guy who was bothering me earlier is back at the bar again, but this time, he brought a few of his friends with him. I was hoping Bruce would deal with them, but he has been less than helpful tonight. He hasn't said a single word to me and has been doing the bare minimum when it comes to serving drinks.

"Does the carpet match the drapes?" one of the guys calls out.

"I'd like to put my face under that skirt and find out for myself." The guys sitting next to the perv all laugh at this statement.

I march right over to them, grabbing a bottle of beer on the way and smashing it on the counter in front of him. They all freeze, eyes widening as I hold the half-broken bottle in his face. His eyes narrow, but I don't back down.

"Say that fucking shit to me again and find the fuck out what happens."

"Ava!" Bruce yells, pulling at my wrist to get the bottle out of the customer's face.

I spin around to face him. "You're going to let them disrespect me like that?"

"You work at a bar in a strip club. What do you expect the customers to say to you?" he spits.

Fuck this, I've had enough. I toss the broken bottle on the floor and pull my wrist from Bruce's grip. "I don't need any of this," I say before marching straight to Alec's office.

I knock a few times, but nobody answers. The door is unlocked, so I take it upon myself to push it open and immediately regret my choice. Alec has a woman bent over his desk, slamming into her hard. He pulls on her hair, making her cry out, and slaps her ass, similar to what he did to me.

"I’m busy," he says while looking over his shoulder. His eyes darken when he notices it was me who walked in. He doesn't stop fucking her though. He only picks up his pace. "Feel free to take a seat and watch. I'll be done shortly."

"I'll pass. I was just stopping in to let you know I quit."

"You'll wait," he states firmly, and part of me is concerned that he knows I overheard something I shouldn't have earlier. I want to leave, but I decide to play the fool and make my way to the couch to sit and wait for him to finish fucking someone right in front of me.

"That's right, whore. Squeeze my cock," he tells the girl, slapping her ass again. His head turns to look at me. "You can always join if you want."

I scoff, ignoring him to stare off at the wall. I can't even believe I let him touch me. What the hell was I thinking? A few weeks ago, I might have let him do it again. He's not bad looking, but he's so full of himself. A realization crosses my mind. I'm disgusted by the idea of any man besides Greyson putting his hands on me.

When did this happen? When did I let him tear down my walls? I thought I was being careful, but in reality, he has owned every single piece of me for as long as I can remember. When did I let my love for Greyson take over my rational thinking? Most importantly, why am I realizing this while watching his enemy fuck a girl on his desk?

Alec lets out a deep grunt, signaling his completion, and pulls himself free from the girl. I watch with disgust as he pulls the condom free from his cock and drops it in his trash can. When the girl stands, I realize it’s Candy, and a part of me feels bad for her. She doesn't look like she enjoyed that at all.

"Go clean yourself up and get back to work," he tells her. She uses the towel he hands her to wipe herself before leaving the room.

"I'm not staying. I just wanted to let you know—"

"That you quit, yeah, I heard." He laughs and comes over to sit on the other side of the couch. "Tell me, why is that? Does your little boyfriend not want you working here?"

"We've been over this. Greyson is not my boyfriend. I'm quitting because I don't enjoy being asked if the carpet matches the drapes. I don't want men making comments to me about putting their face up my skirt, and I certainly don't want to be made to feel like a cheap whore when I try to defend my self-respect."

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