Page 80 of Kings Against the World

He takes a moment to savor his cigar, then blows a fresh curl of smoke out.

“Yeah, I would like something else. It’s time you make good on your services, sweetie. How about a lap dance? Start off nice and slow.”

My gaze drifts to Sugar who clings to the pole in a slow side swing. For once she doesn’t look bubbly and happy or lost and confused. The only two moods she seems capable of. Instead, she glances at me as if she’s aware I’m an actress. I’m faking this entire situation and not really the Jade Fowley I’ve presented myself as.

I’ve never worked in these clubs and I’ve never stripped. I don’t give lap dances.

This whole thing was a cover.

I’m really out to bring Boone and his underground criminal empire down.

I breathe through the flutter of nerves in my stomach and then do my best to seem sweet and flirty.

“Alright,” I say, strutting forward, hand on my hip. “Since you asked nicely.”

He chuckles. “I love a bit of sass. From observing you and Oz, you’ve got a mouth on you, don’t you, sweetie?”

“I guess I’m the spice in the room.”

“SugarandSpice,” Boone says, the other two matching his amused grin. “That sounds like the perfect duo. Then c’mere and give me a taste of some of that spice.”

The way he talks to me, the way he leers, is sickening. It’s disturbing as my thoughts shift to Zani and I wonder if he and his men ever spoke to her like this. Or had she been an unknown to Boone, just some working girl he hired to profit off, one of many?

Stopping in front of Boone, my hips start to sway and I block out all thoughts about Zani. I’ve got to keep going, stall for more time, and hope that soon this will end. Either Boone and the others will grow bored and move on or the backup from the local PD will finally arrive. It’ll ruin what’s left of the investigation, but what other choice do I have?

It’s that or go through with selling myself.

So much for cozying up to him and doing what was necessary. Duchovny’s bad advice feels like a nightmare as I slowly move my hips and slide my hands over my body.

Boone sits back and puffs on his cigar as he enjoys the show. Sugar’s swinging around the pole while I’m dancing to the slow, pulsing beat. The TV monitors are forgotten about. We’ve become the main attractions.

I stall as long as I can before it becomes infeasible to not touch Boone in some way. For me to climb into his lap and give him the kind of attention these dances require. Sitting astride him, I close my eyes and urge my body to keep moving. I force down the nausea that threatens to rise up at the fact that I’m touching him.

I’m in the lap of the man who’s responsible for Zani’s death.

I circle my hips and let my hands caress my body, focusing on the music and shutting out any other noise.

Boone whistles and rocks his head along, his eyes likely undressing me behind his large sunglasses.

“Now that’s some talent,” he says, laughing. “Take off your top, sweetie.”

I happen to look over my shoulder and see that Sugar’s done so. She’s found a clever way to strip off her Azure Sol crop top while dangling upside down on the pole.

Now it’s my turn.

My breath stalls in my lungs as my fingers reach for the hem of my shirt and I question yet again if the local police were even notified when I sent my message. I’m about to peel off my top when Boone jerks up in his seat and sends me crashing backward to the ground.

“What the fuck is that?!” he shouts. “Is that aphone?”

All other movement in the room stops. Sugar freezes mid-spin on the pole. Estrada and Rollins drag their gazes off Sugar’s body but remain silent. Only the music and sounds from the TV continue to play.

I scramble to my feet, my pulse pounding harder than ever.

Boone snatches up my phone off the credenza where I’d hidden it and shoots me an angry, accusatory glare. “This yours? Were you recording me?”

“N-no,” I stammer, still playing the role of Jade. I shake my head. “Of… of course not. I brought it in by mistake.”

“Mistake, huh?” Boone drops my phone to the ground, then crushes it with the bottom of his steel-toe leather boot. He starts toward me. “Something tells me that was no mistake. I’ve known there was a snitch somewhere in our group, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint who. It looks like my first hunch was correct.”

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