Page 46 of Protected By West
West stepped through the open doorway and continued on for a few steps, clearing space for the others.
He'd been in the club before, called on a late night disturbance when he'd been a deputy. The room was different back then. Darker, the lights made everything look... oily. The ground under his boots didn't squelch or stick like it did back then.
Even the air was cleaner. Cooler.
"The sign out front said it's a Gentleman's Club."
Oxy's voice was softer but still carried and West nodded. "Most days it is. But now they have a couple of nights a month where it's ladies’ nights."
Dally's exhale was telling. "At least it's cleaner than normal."
West ignored the comments from the other men. It wasn't a problem that the men had gone to the club as long as they hadn't gone for fun in their uniforms or started any problems. After all, he'd been there on the job, maybe Dally and Oxy had done the same. "Well, we're not here for the show."
The lights flared and three men moved onto the stage.
Each of them were dressed like they worked in construction, but their coveralls were a little too snug across their chests and... below the belt. When the music started up, the heavy bass beat rev'd up the audience. A bunch of women in the audience got up out of their seats.
West could see drinks in their hands and money, too.
"Sounds like Missy Elliott." Myles nodded his head to the beat.
"I don't think the ladies care what's playing." That from the trooper standing stock still a half step behind him.
It was an apt description of the crowd. The women were hooting and hollering loud enough that it was the bass beat of the music that was pretty much the only part of the piped in audio that they could hear. Everything else was what they could feel.
The 'construction' guys on stage had already removed a few pieces of clothing. As a neon yellow mesh vest went flying into the wings, Duval chuckled. "I don't think OSHA will like that."
"I don't think they're part of the union, either."
West didn't know who'd added that comment, but he smiled.
A trio of women exited the bathroom door off to the right and came to an abrupt stop beside them. All three women looked over their group and walked up to them. The first woman trailed her fingers across Duval's SWAT vest, smiling as her fingers moved across the letters. "Is this the closing act?"
Dally was about to laugh at his friend when the woman beside the first reached up and tugged on his close-cut beard. "I like this one." She gave him a wink and Weston was suddenly worried that the other man would run for the hills. "If you need a volunteer on stage," she licked her lips, "then, I'm game."
Dally tried to step back but the woman had a good strong hold on him and wasn't showing any signs of letting go. "Ma'am, I'm not here as a dancer."
"Ma'am?" She seemed to be focused on only one part of his denial. "Honey, if you want me to be on top. All you have to do is ask!"
Weston shook his head at the panic he saw building in the other man.
Dally turned his head toward Weston and stammered out a request for help. "Major? A little help here?"
Fox was the first one to respond. "Pretty sure you can escape from her clutches, Dally. It's not like she's holding a knife to your throat."
Oxy snorted. "Even if she was, you've been trained for that."
Dally gestured at her with one seemingly helpless hand. "I'm not trained for this... situation."
Fox sighed. "I dunno, West. What do you think? If these men can't get out of here alive and with their dignity intact, we might have to boot them off the team."
Weston folded his arms across his chest and nodded. "I agree. This isn't anywhere near riot status. No one has weapons on them."
Duval grinned at the woman who was cozying up to him, her hands trying to work their way under his vest. "I might have to argue with you on that, West. This woman has lethal levels of feminine wiles."
"Wiles?" Trooper Bonner had barely whispered under his breath.
It was Oxy who stepped back in as he disentangled the grasping hands of the woman who was playing with his collar. "Sorry, ladies. We're actually here on the clock for the Rangers. We're not... and I repeat NOT part of the entertainment."
