Page 19 of A Love Like Venom

That’s why our brotherhood is deeper with each other than with the others.

It’s the same reason why Dex and Pax are so close.

There’s a deep understanding.

I take one last draw from my cig before I crush it underneath my steel toed black boots. “Oh, Oaky Boy, I can handle anything.” A wicked grin stretches across my face.

Oak nods his head and lets out a small chuckle. “Yeah, I figured.”

With my trusty knives on the inside of my cut, a Glock on the back of my waistband, and the fire coursing through my veins I’m ready for it all.

We walk side by side to the entrance. Both of us get a few side glances from the men and appreciative looks from the women. Neither meaning absolutely nothing to me. I tip my head up even higher, not giving them a second glance.

The club is open to everyone as there is no bouncer on the outside. Not even a prospect keeping watch like we do.

It’s fucking idiotic but allows for all the damaged people to come in and breaks themselves further.

I told you; men like them prey easily upon the wounded.

When we enter the club red lights in all variations of the shade hit us. Bright reds glow the main stage as darker reds cast over the bar and tables.

I have to tell you; the inside doesn’t look much better than the outside. Paint is literally chipping before my eyes. Lights are flickering due to malfunctions. And it reeks of cigarettes, booze, and sex. And not in the good way.

As we pass the entrance hall, with wired fence attached to the wall for decoration, we enter the main attraction of the club.

At center stage bathed in bright red light with a soft blue glow is a woman with barely any clothes on dancing around apole. She looks half dead as she sways her hips to the music and pathetically rubs her large fake tits. The men here, despite her lack of performance, are still going crazy for her. Dollar bills flood the stage as she begins to crawl on her hands and knees to grubby and greedy hands.

Turning away from the sight I’m then greeted by women practically having sex with men on the very worn black leather booths.

Great.

There are two long l-shaped leather booths that connect with each other to face the center stage. Every five feet there’s a cracked glass table to place their drinks.

This place is fucking disgusting.

Oak and I watch as a worker who wears nothing more than a black bra and barely there panties with fishnet tights underneath her harassed by every man she passes.

I’m not fucking kidding you. Each one takes a grab at either her ass or tits.

My fists curl tight besides me as I try to fight the urge by breaking all their hands.

One thing I will never ever fucking agree with is a man laying a hand on a woman. Abusively or without their fucking consent.

You’re not a man, you’re a fucking coward.

As my eyes scan the area, I notice a couple of the members from the MC. None of them so far concern me. They’re too busy trying to get their dicks wet from their employees.

“What’s the plan, Oak?” I keep my voice low but loud enough so he can head over the music. It’s obnoxiously loud.

Tipping his head towards me he says, “Let’s order a drink first and see if any of them come our way.”

Not a problem for me. I could sure use a beer right about now.

Oak and I push our way pass everyone. We even have to force some women’s hands off us.

No fucking thank you.

Their bar is large. The deep brown wood counter spans almost the entire back wall. A vast variety of alcoholic beverages are stacked behind the bar on shelves along with tap beer. It’s not impressive, nor done in style. It’s just there. Kind of like everything here. There’s no touch or finesse to it.

---