Page 43 of Kings Against the World

I collect the assortment of drinks Boone likes at his tables and then head over to deliver them.

Boone’s grin broadens at the sight of me. He and some of the men have broken out cigars and are filling their section with the usual smoky haze.

“There she is,” he says loudly. “The star of tonight’s opening number.”

He adds a whistle as some of the other men survey me with lecherous eyes. Heat spreads across my skin as I ignore them and begin setting down the bottles and glasses.

“Oz is one lucky man,” he says. “He gets to go home to that every night.”

I spare a quick look in Ozzie’s direction, trying to remain unfazed. Ozzie seems like he’s doing the same, except I know him well enough to pick up on other subtle signs. The hard line of his clenched jaw and how tensely he’s gripping his glass. He’s staring unblinkingly at Boone as if he’s thinking of a million different ways he can slit his throat.

Boone either knows and is eating it up or is the most oblivious person in the world.

My bet’s on the former.

“You know I’m gonna talk to Benz about having you perform more,” Boone says. “Our guests shouldn’t be deprived of that kinda talent. You need to take the stage more. More little dance numbers. Maybe, who knows? Some lap dances.”

“My girl’s a server,” Ozzie says suddenly. His voice sounds strained, gruffer and tighter than usual. “She’s a bottle girl, not one of Benz’s dancers.”

Boone purses his lips blowing his thickest cloud of smoke yet. “Things change, Oz. Your girl’s danced before, right? Benz tells me she’s worked in clubs.”

There’s a tense second that passes where Boone waits on Ozzie’s answer and no one else dares utter a word.

I tuck my server tray under my arm and decide to be the first. “I have… but I prefer being a server. It’s what I’m better at.”

Boone releases a deep laugh that some of the others join in on. “Oh sweetie, after seeing you up on that stage tonight, I beg to differ. We’ll see what comes to pass, won’t we?”

Hours later, when Ozzie and I finally return to our hotel room, he slams the door shut so hard one of the paintings on the wall is knocked askew.

I spin around, alarmed by the loud noise. He hasn’t said a word the entire walk up here. He sat silent in the lounge for the rest of the party, the energy coming from him thick and angry.

“Can you not slam things?” I snap. “I don’t know what your problem is now, but we have to stay focused!”

He strides past me, every step quick and furious. “You don’t know what my problem is? I’ll fucking tell you what the problem is—Boone is fucking with us!”

“Boone fucks with everyone.”

“Not like this. He’s trying to get a rise out of me.”

“So don’t let him!”

Ozzie stops at the foot of the bed and then whips around so fast even I’m thrown off. I take half a step back, peering into eyes that have narrowed and darkened.

“Did you hear him tonight?” he yells. “Were you listening? Were you reading between the lines? Do you get where this is fucking headed?”

“I’m focused on the investigation! On finding useful evidence against Boone. Some of which I might’ve found tonight in Benz’s office. That’s all that matters.”

“He wants to use you!” he answers for me, even louder. The veins throb in the side of his neck, his complexion flushing from his anger. “He wants you to become one of those girls—the ones he sells during the tournaments!”

I fold my arms across my chest. “He said I should perform more.”

“That’s how it starts. A striptease here. Some pole work there. Then come the lap dances. Then the private rooms. You think I don’t know what the fuck goes on? You know how many of these tournaments I’ve been to?”

“Yeah, I know,” I say. “You’re in debt to him.”

“Don’t speak on what you don’t fucking understand!”

“I’ll speak on whatever the hell I want to speak on!” I yell right back. “And I’ll do whatever the hell I need to do for this investigation.”

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