Page 14 of The Warlord

Staring at her over my shoulder, I watched her run her hands over her breasts and dip down between her legs. Her whole body writhed.

“Maybe later, baby.” I turned and walked to the end of the hall, pushing out of the staff corridor and backstage area and into the club. I scanned the dimly lit space, looking for Finnan, wondering whether he’d be done with Delux yet. When it was clear he hadn’t emerged from whatever private room he was using, I strolled to the bar, where Mary Healy, our clan’s Pull, was working.

Mary was in her sixties and had the look of a strict schoolmarm who didn’t take any shit. Being the mother of eight head-strong daughters, she was adept at handling disputes among clan members. Aside from covering the bartender when she went on breaks, Mary was also the club’s Mother—the woman who kept all the girls emotional and sexual health in check.

“Get you a drink, Grayson?” she asked, already placing a squat glass down onto the polished surface and palming the bottle of whisky. When she began to pour, I motioned for her to keep going with a circular motion with my fingers, then tapped when it was half full. “Rough day?”

I picked up the glass and knocked back the whole thing.

Mary filled it again.

“I guess you could say that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Hey, Mary, can I get two double whiskies, please? Oh, hey, Grayson.”

I turned to look at Kitty, one of the veterans of Velvet, even though she was barely twenty-five. She was dressed in purple tonight—her garter, bra, and panties all matching.

“How are you doing, Kitty?”

She hiked a hand onto her hip and grinned. “Good tippers in tonight, so maybe I’ll be able to get Celeste into those ballet classes she wants to go to.”

“How old is she now?” I asked.

“Five going on fifteen,” she replied with a fond smile, nodding to Mary as she placed the drink order onto her waiting tray. Kitty picked it up without so much as losing a drop of liquor and waved goodbye.

“Her ex is sniffing around again,” Mary said beside me, and I turned to look at her.

“He is?”

“Comes in the nights she’s not working, asking the other girls questions about whether she’s seeing anyone.”

Motherfucker.“You need me to handle it?”

The older woman shook her head and patted my hand in that grandmotherly way she had. “I didn’t tell you so you could give your bullets a new home. I told you, so you were aware. Finnan has lost interest in the day-to-day of this place. He only seems to want to reap the benefits. Someone needs to know what’s going on beyond the profit margin.”

“Thanks, Mary. I’ll speak to the bouncers about not letting him in anymore.”

Throwing back the rest of my drink, I settled the glass onto the bar and went in search of Little John. I found the bastard at the front door, his meaty fists clasped in front of his groin, his dark eyes narrowing on a group of lads stumbling through the door. His bald head nearly reached the ceiling—all seven-burly-feet of him filling the small entranceway.

He caught the eye of one of the men, his stare like an arctic blast. He didn’t even have to say a word before the patron nodded and warned the rest of his buddies.

“Little John,” I said.

He turned his head. “Kent.”

“Have you seen Kitty’s ex coming through in the last few weeks?”

He bobbed his head. “Sure. He’s been around. Never when Kitty is on, though.”

I clenched my jaw tight. “That stops today. We understood?”

“Aye. I’ll let the others know. What do you want us to do with him when he comes?”

“Don’t let him in, and if he wants to know why, tell him he can come speak to me.”

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