Page 37 of Kings Against the World

He’s put on these elaborate tournaments and then sucked everyone involved dry ’til there was nothing left.

“Pretty cool, right?” Sugar says, popping her gum. “I didn’t really wanna come down to Vegas ’cuz you know I’ve got pending charges and I’m not supposed to leave Texas.”

…she does?

“And you know Benz doesn’t even pay too good for it to be worth the trouble. But he promised double for this tournament.”

It’s news to me that Sugar has been in trouble with the law. But she and I haven’t been very close in the short time we’ve worked together at Déjà Vu. The girl always tries to court me into girl chat type exchanges to little success. Nothing againsther, I’ve just had more important shit to focus on, like taking down Boone.

She leads me into the dressing room where the rest of the girls are in the middle of prepping for tonight. If thereisone thing I do know about the women I work with at the Déjà Vu Gentleman’s Club, it’s that they aren’t at all shy about showing off their bodies.

As we enter the room, Venus is topless at a vanity table penciling her eyebrows. Chyna is sliding out of her jeans to put on the stringy little piece of fabric she’ll be wearing on stage. Versace and Nova are in the middle of a conversation about splitting the clientele for the night. The two are sisters who often perform racy, borderline incestuous dance numbers on stage.

Sugar greets them both and then darts toward the rack of costumes. She plucks the last two hanging on the rack and hands me the one in her left hand marked JADE.

I can’t hide the shock from my face—my eyes go wide and I give a slow, stunned blink.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

Sugar giggles. “This is the whole thing. Benz said Boone requested something more provocative for the tournament.”

I hold out the hanger with the sparkly sapphire and gold bra and hot pants that are so short and small, my whole ass will be out.

“You’ll look great in those,” chimes in Venus with a wink. “Those legs in those booty shorts? Banging.”

It’s not that I don’t think I’ll look good. It’s that I don’t give a fuck about it… or about prancing around half naked in front of men like Boone and his lapdogs.

I’ve never been the woman seeking male validation. Any guy I’ve slept with has had to accept that I’m not the type who does sexy lingerie or seduces him with a dance. I was more a practicalstraight shooter, looking to get right down to business and then move on.

Ozzie’s earlier words come back to me.

You’re not Agent Strauss right now, you’re Jade.

I sigh and remind myself to play the role. I join the other ladies changing and then let Venus do my makeup.

Tonight I’m wearing the same bright blue wig I’d put on yesterday.

Once I’m ready, I invent an excuse to leave the dressing room and instead seek out the same person who threatened me a few hours ago.

I agreed to do things how Ozzie wanted, but that doesn’t mean I would completely listen to him. My need to know why and how Benz suspects me outweighs any caution. I’ll track him down and apologize for any confusion. He’ll hopefully clue me in as to why he’s convinced I’m the snitch.

Wandering down the hall, it only takes me a minute to stumble upon his office.

I recognize it as Benz’s because of the gaudy, gilded art plastered across the walls and the glass animals he has on display. Only Benz would be so tacky to think this looks good.

The door’s cracked open but no one’s inside. I step into the room cautiously, tugging down my hot pants to no avail. They’re so short, it’s useless.

But it’s not just that they’re criminally tiny and show off my entire thigh and leg—it’s that the cut of the shorts automatically gives a wedgie as soon as you start moving.

The fact that I’ll have to remain like this all night is torture.

I creep deeper into the room and make it to the glass desk, where there are papers strewn across the top. A quick glance at many of the documents reveals they’re nothing incriminating on Boone or Benz. Some mundane things like receipts forfurnishings at the underground casino and a roster of the participating players.

It’s not until I shift around some papers that I find something potentially of interest.

A banking statement showing numerous deposits into Benz’s account. The depositor is the same account number each time, one after another.

I frown staring at the statement. Where is this money coming from? Who’s depositing it into Benz’s account and what’s it for?

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