Page 2 of Missing Piece
It was just too bad he couldn’t bury it underneath a mountain of painkillers.
“Still not interested. Do me a favor and screw off.” Adam grabbed his glass and stood up. He stomped his right foot, the sole of his foot itching, and locked eyes with the blue-eyed manager behind the bar.
“Suit yourself,” Raquel said. “Just know that the offer still stands. Just do me a favor?”
“What?”
Raquel’s hand rested on his shoulder as she leaned toward him. “If you don’t find a purpose, you’ll just relapse, so consider it, okay?” she whispered to him.
His stomach dropped. “Why the hell would you say that tome?” he grumbled, turning to face her.
She was gone, already walking towards the exit.What kind of weirdo paid the cover charge for a strip club for five minutes just to bother me?
He walked over to the bar and leaned against it, setting his drink down. The bartender wasn’t there, but he could wait.One more drink, then I’ll drag Robert away from the tip rail and we can get out of this place.The man with the reddish-brown beard walked over to him, studying Adam’s glass. He lifted it up, sniffing the remnants of the liquor. He raised a finger and cocked his head a little.
“One more? Yeah, please.” Adam nodded at him. He pulled his wallet out, trying to ignore the itching in the sole of his right foot that was beginning to hurt. He stomped his foot again, pursing his lips as an irrational irritation surfaced.It shouldn’t hurt anymore, it’s all in my head.
“Itchy feet?” the blue-eyed manager asked as he stepped beside the bearded guy. “You know that’s a sign that you want to leave somewhere, right?”
Adam pulled out a ten-dollar bill and set it on the bar as the bearded manager set down his drink. “I’ve never heard that before,” he said as he took a sip. The glass had way more liquor in it than the last, but he wasn’t going to complain.
The blond pushed the ten back towards Adam. “It’s on the house,” he said, leaning on the counter and resting his chin in his palm. “What’s your name?”
Adam took the opportunity to study him more closely. He was stupidly good-looking, with a strong jaw lined with stubble, neatly styled blond hair that made him look a lot like an actor he couldn’t remember the name of, and his impossibly blue eyes confident and unwavering as theylooked right into his own. There was something darkly enticing about his gaze. If Adam had any space left in his head for desire between his hair-trigger fits of anger and his apathy, he might have even flirted with the guy for another round. But that ship had long ago sailed. “Adam Nolan,” he replied.
“Welcome, Adam Nolan, to Wild Side. I’m Vincent Bellenger, the owner of the club.” He held his hand out.
Adam looked down at his hand, deciding in that moment he didn’t really feel like touching anyone. Even if the owner of that hand was drop-dead gorgeous. “Nice to meet you,” he said into his glass before he poured the rest of the foul whiskey down his throat. He winced as he set it down. “I should go get my friend.”
Vincent grinned at him, reaching beneath the counter and producing a bottle of some expensive-looking liquor. He poured another large serving into Adam’s glass. “Your friend just wandered off for a private dance,” he said. “But you’re more than welcome to wait for him here.”
Adam pushed the glass back towards Vincent. “Yeah, no, I can’t afford your fancy liquor tonight.”
“It’s on the house.” Vincent pushed the drink back towards him.
“Why? You or your buddy slip something in there?” Adam asked, peering over Vincent’s shoulder at the bearded guy. He was gone. That was odd. He was just there.
Vincent took a swig from the bottle, facing the label out so Adam could see what it was.Shit, Johnnie Walker? Even if it is roofied, I should drink it. I might never get a chance to drink this again.“No fun additives, see?” Vincent smiled, revealing a smile so bright it looked more like it belonged onan airport tarmac than in some shitty establishment in the middle of bumfuck Illinois.
Adam eyed his glass for a moment before picking it up and taking a cautious sip. “You could have built up a tolerance,” he said. “Like the guy in The Princess Bride.”
Vincent chuckled. “I have a friend who would love that reference. He owns the nightclub downtown,” he said. “So tell me, what’s a cute little thing like you drinking in this place with that grumpy look on your face?”
Little?“I’m not here willingly,” Adam mumbled. He turned to see if Robert had reappeared yet, but there was no sign of his creepy middle-aged ass. He supposed he could make small talk with the club owner a little longer. The guy was easy on the eyes and made it so he wasn’t too alone with his thoughts. “Where’d your friend wander off to? He was just there a minute ago.”
“My friend? Oh, you mean Luka. He’s the co-owner of this place. I believe he is collecting house,” Vincent said.
“House?”
“Wow, so you really don’t do the whole strip club scene, do you?” Vincent refilled Adam’s glass. “It’s a fee the dancers pay to work here.”
“Sounds like a ripoff,” Adam said, raising an eyebrow at the blond. “You trying to get me drunk?”
“You look like you can handle a lot,” he said with another brilliant smile.
Oh yeah, this guy is definitely trying to get in my pants.He might have been charmed at some other point in his life, but he was still in the depths of a stage where he didn’t care about anything. He straightened his back and poured what probably amounted to another four fingers of whiskey downhis throat, wincing as he slammed the glass down. It was time to smoke a cigarette and get the hell out. He’d wait for Robert outside whenever he got done cumming in his pants.
“Thanks for the free booze, but I’m heading out,” Adam said, taking a few steps away from the bar.
