Page 17 of Sold Blood
I press my hands over Jackson's hands and sing louder. Someone kicks at the board above us. “Shut up down there.” I don’t stop singing, making sure to be louder than Jackson's hums and louder than the screaming above.
“Merrily, merrily, merrily life is but a dream.”
Ten
Carlos
The splash of water is cold on my face and doesn’t do anything for the bags under my eyes. They are bloodshot from lack of sleep, but I can’t fully rest until I find Joey. The next time Isaiah calls, I want to give him enough peace of mind to bring back the softness in his voice.
I dry my face off with a towel and run a comb through my hair. The short nap on the plane was enough to rejuvenate my body and give me the energy I need to keep going, but I could still use some caffeine in my system. I walk over to the small coffee pot and steam lifts into the air as I fill the small white Styrofoam cup. The hot liquid is bitter and slightly burns my tongue as it travels down my throat.
I have some places to visit before the auction takes place this afternoon. I hope to scratch a few off my list this morning starting with a club up the road called Peaches. I had called the minute we landed, letting them know I’m in town for businessand needed a place to let off some steam and wind down in between meetings.
They said they were open twenty four hours and I wouldn't be disappointed in their selection of male and female dancers. Some were even recently hired, which I’m willing to bet most weren’t there willingly and probably never even saw a dime of that money. The emphasis the woman on the phone put on the word dancers told me the service wouldn’t end with a simple grinding on my lap if I didn't want it to. I’m hoping one of the new dancers they got in is Joey or someone who’s at least seen him.
I slip on a pair of black slacks, dressy button down, and a pair of loafers to match. I plan to save my best clothes for the exclusive events and the type of places where people size you up the moment you walk through the door, judging you in a matter of seconds. They usually decide right then and there how much of their time you're worth. How you are dressed and the way you hold yourself tells them the amount of money you had to spend. I’ve been working around these types of men long enough to know how their brains work. It’s always about money to them. Their world revolves around it. Once they had a taste of it, they would never have enough. It turns into an addiction they have to feed or else the hunger takes over.
Once I feel I’m presentable enough, I take the elevator down to the lobby. I wait for the valet to bring my car around and climb in it with little patience as the guy takes his precious time closing my door. I had never understood how people lived this way, with people constantly hovering over you. I need my space and usually move too fast for anyone to keep up.
The club’s parking lot is nearly empty when I pull up to the front of the building. The blue and purple lights are more blinding when I step out of the car. A woman with long blackhair pulled into a braid and dressed in a short red cocktail dress walks my way. “Welcome. Are you new here to Peaches?”
I nod, smiling. “Yes, I called not long ago while in mid-landing, looking for a place to wind down after my long flight, and was told this is the perfect place for that. I was hoping for something a little more than your average lap dance.”
She smiles, pursing her lips together. “Of course. Right this way.”
I follow closely behind her as my eyes roam around the club, landing on several men and women dancing in cages. She stops and turns around to face me. “You looking for anything in particular?”
“Older, dark hair, male with amber eyes.”
“That’s very specific. I always did appreciate a man who knew exactly what he wanted and didn’t waste any time.”
“I never have too much of it to waste, especially this morning. I have always been a very particular man especially when it comes to my sexual desires and needs.”
She nods with her lips going slanted. “I suppose a man like you can afford to be picky. I think I have the perfect thing for you.”
Thing. Not person, but thing. That’s all these men and women were to someone like this madam or whatever title she’d given herself. She takes me to a back room. It has nothing more in it than a small couch and a small bed. “Wait here and I’ll bring in your options.”
“Oh and maybe even bring in some newer ones. I was told you’ve had some recent hires. Tonight I’m in the mood for something a bit fresher and new.”
“Of course. Wait here. I can promise you won't be disappointed in our selection.”
I nod, standing against the back wall, not wanting to get too comfortable just yet. She doesn’t take long coming back with a few men in tow of various ages. All of them meet my descriptionexcept for the two who have dark brown eyes. There are two guards standing close by and by the way they are keeping their eyes on the men, they aren’t here because they’re worried about me.
One of the dancers she brought in shakes where he stands, eyes red and swollen. He’s been crying recently and there’s no telling what things they had to say to him to get him to stop. The dancer standing beside him has a fresh bruise on his cheek, but it doesn’t stop him from plastering a smile on his face. None of these men are Joey.
I walk closer with my hands behind my back getting a better look at each man. One has his eyes pointed to the ground. “This one arrived today; he won't give you very much trouble. He has been very well behaved, and we have ways to calm him down if he gets out of line.”
Not something you would have to say about someone who is here willingly. I lift his chin up with the tips of my fingers, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “Hi there. What’s your name?”
He swallows hard, the corner of his lips shaking. “Whatever you want it to be.”
I force a smile on my face to make it appear like I’m enjoying this way more than I actually am. How could anyone? They would have to not be human in order to be able to come to a place like this every night without any kind of conscience or remorse. The kind of men who usually came to places like this usually slept way better than they deserved to. “I’ll take this one for the next hour.”
“Excellent. Come on boys, back to your rooms.” She turns around before closing the door. “Enjoy, and let us know if there is anything else we can do for you Mr….”
“Masters.”
“Very well then Mr. Masters. I’ll see you in an hour.”
