Page 114 of Beautifully Wounded

“Or perhaps you’re interested in something else? Something a little more… exquisite?” The old guy slowly turns, holding out his arm and gesturing to the huddled Doxies.

Oh, my… Is he trying to bribe the officers? With sex?

“Tucker,” the second officer says, leaning forward like he’s reading the name patch on the front of the old guy’s vest. “You wouldn’t be trying to bribe a police officer, would you?”

“No. No,” Tucker says quickly.

“Because you know, if I want to fuck one of your whores,” the officer stands taller, “I don’t need to fucking ask.”

“You can’t touch them!” Brody yells from behind Stocky and Jols, and the two officers start laughing, while the other two keep checking rooms over the other side.

“Anything?” The first officer bellows as he turns to glance at his officers checking the rooms.

That’s when I get a decent view of his profile, and all my breath seizes in my lungs.

No.

“Nope. No one,” an officer responds, and the main one turns back to face the few club members and Doxies.

“Well, what a surprise. That’s a helluva lot of fines.”

The officers snicker and turn, starting to walk away, and finally, the air in my lungs comes rushing out.

It’s okay.

He’s not here for me.

They are going to leave.

I see the Doxies visibly relax too, probably feeling the same relief as me, although for different reasons, but then they stiffen as a group, and I hold my breath again as my gaze darts back to the officers who are now spinning back to face them.

“You know what, I’m feeling generous,” the main officer says, stepping back towards the group. “Because I estimate at least thirty men aren’t accounted for, and correct me if I’m wrong, butthat would add up to six hundred thousand dollars in fines.” He leans closer, getting in Stocky’s face. “Do the Southern Sadists have six hundred thousand dollars?”

I can see Stocky’s face better than that of the officer’s, and he has rage written all over his expression, yet he remains quiet.

“But!” the officer yells, and I notice Jols flinch back a little. “Since I’m a reasonable kind of guy, we’ll take four blowjobs right fucking here, right fucking now, and call it even.”

Oh, my god.

No.

“Now hang on a minut—”

Stocky’s words are cut off when the second officer whips out his baton and slogs Stocky over the side of the head.

The Doxies cry out, and I leap back in horror as Stocky falls to the ground with a heavy thud.

“Hey fuck you!” Brody yells, and Barts, the guy who’s drunk twenty-four seven, stumbles up from the chair he was perched on, charging the officer.

It all happens so quickly, the officers and the men start fighting, while Jols urges the Doxies back, trying to keep them out of harm’s way, but it’s no use. The officers overpower the few men left behind, and in a matter of minutes, Stocky, Barts, Tucker, Brody, and another young guy I haven’t come across before, are beaten to a pulp on the ground, leaving Jols and the Doxies to fend for themselves.

“Now.” The officer I wish I didn’t know shouts before spitting off to the side as he slips his baton back onto his belt, and proceeds to undo his fly.

He’s not really going to…

Oh shit.

“Which one of you sluts is going to blow me?”

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