Page 15 of Bonded

“You know Darius very well?”

“Yeah, I um… I work with him.”

“Oh right, youworkwith him. Oh… oh okay, ‘work’I get it,” he winks. “Well, I gotta say, I didn’t know he was into your type, but I know he has pretty diverse taste.”

“Oh yeah…” she smiles, unsure exactly what he means. “Yeah, I know he does. Probably why he’s so moody, right?” she laughs, toying with a curl of her hair.

“Moody, yeah that’s a helluva understatement.”

“Um-hm,” she nods again. “So, you’re going to let me go see him?”

The security look at each other, wondering what they should do. Will they be in more trouble for letting her in or keeping her out? But with the option of upsetting Darius not being one they’d readily choose, and with some hesitation, he nervously unclips the rope and lets her pass.

“Thank you!” she smiles.

Entering the corridor, she can’t help but notice how dark it is, with only a trail of very dim red lights along the edge of the floor to mark the walkway. She shivers, it feels colder in this part of the club without all the bustle of people and clubbers dancing. The other thing that strikes her is how quiet it is she can barely hear the music at all now.

Smoothing her hand along the wall, she feels her way in the dark and then suddenly stops as she touches the first of the closed doors. She notices there are several of them, all evenly spaced on either side of the hall, and touching her fingers gently against the black glossy paint, curious she wonders what might be behind them.

“Offices?” She imagines. “But then why on earth would a club need, one… three… Ten! Ten offices?”

Her curiosity gets the better of her and noticing one door slightly ajar, she pushes gently and dares a peek inside. It seems to be a bedroom, the walls painted in a dark red color. A huge gold-gilt mirror fills the whole of the wall facing the open door.

“Shit…” She quickly steps back as she stares eye to eye with an extremely tall brunette. Her hair tied in a tight high ponytail, wearing a red corset cinched tight at the waist. Her long legs accentuated by the six-inch black patent heels and her hand grips tightly to a long whip-like riding crop.

“Oh my God!” Kat gasps, she can’t see who else is in the room with her and isn’t able to find out as the door slams shut.

She hesitates to gather her thoughts and then continues along the dark corridor to a doorway at the end. It’s covered by a heavy velvet curtain, small chinks of golden light emanating from either side where it isn’t drawn fully across.

Oddly apprehensive, her heart beating hard in her chest, she feels nervous and in the wrong for being here. Swallowing her nerves, she places her hand against the thick fabric and opens it. “What the fuck?” Her heart almost leaps into her mouth and as she pulls back the curtain it reveals yet another bar area.

This one is much smaller than the main part of the club. Dimly lit with a much more intimate feel. It’s luxurious and less clubby. It reeks of class.

Deep sumptuous colors, with dark purple, almost black, crushed-velvet couches and high-gloss black marble tables, and very expensive chrome fittings. A solitary singer on the small intimate stage warbles the blues in sultry tones to an appreciative audience who sit mesmerized—or maybe drugged?Kat takes a moment enjoying the soft sounds, while her eyes scan the low-lit nooks and crannies looking for something, or someone.

Her head turns to the click-clack sound of a ball on a roulette wheel and she watches as two expensively suited men smoking cigars push casino chips toward a stunningly tall croupier.

“Fuck…” she gasps. “What the hell is this place?”

More curious than ever, she wanders around, taking in the paintings on the wall—wondering if they are real? Her hands can’t help but touch against the various textures, the polished smoothness of the tables followed by the sumptuous softness of the expensive couch.

It looks like no expense has been spared on the decor here, and the contrast with the modern vibrant feel of the main club is stark. “No wonder Darius likes this.”

This place drips luxury, the one thing, other than his moody attitude, she’s noticed about their team leader is his expensive tastes. From his designer shirts to his branded watches. He likes quality, and it matches the high standards he has for the team.

With thoughts of him in her head, she quickly darts a gaze to every corner of the room, searching for him, and as her eyes adjusted to the dim light; she notices another three doors along the back wall. These look more like offices, but one door is open and she notices as several scantily clad women go in and out of what looks like a dressing area.

“Oh my God, it’s like a luxury fetish club.” She’s not sure if it is, but it certainly has that feel to it—a very expensive feel. “This is most definitely VIP.”

Unable to find what she’s looking for, and with eyes and attention focusing in her direction, she considers whether it might be time to leave. As she looks up, a gangly looking guy sitting on one of the large couches, reading a book, looks up at her and stares. She smiles, but she gets nothing back except a moody glare. “Yeah, this is most definitely a Darius kind of place.”

A firm tap on the shoulder makes her turn and startled she faces a dark-haired young man, carrying a large silver tray. “Can I offer you a drink, madam?”

“Oh um… a drink?” She looks at the tray and the choices—tall flutes filled with champagne or a martini glass of an unknown red cocktail. Still feeling the head-fog from her earlier binge, she refuses the offer and wafts him away. “No thanks, I’ve had enough for tonight.”

The server doesn’t move as he continues to stare, his hazel brown eyes focused on her bright green. “Excuse me, madam, but should you be in here?”

“What? Oh yeah, um… I’m looking for a friend. A colleague,” she smiles nervously. “Maybe you know where he is?”

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