Page 30 of Point of Infinity
“Well, well, well.” He slid his meaty paw down my arm and cradled my hand. I tried to maintain my seductive pose as he licked his lips and kissed the back of it. He smelled of beer and cigarettes. I threw up in my mouth a little bit while maintaining a straight face. I batted my eyelashes and ran my tail across his chin.
“This is a private party, little pussycat.” He emphasized the word pussy.
A real class act.
I slapped him across the face with my tail to keep from kneeing him in the balls.
“Oh, you like to play.” He leaned forward and puckered his lips. I cowered back. “Oh, now you’re bashful.”
A few others stepped into the clubhouse, mostly men. A few couples.
“I’m sorry, little pussy.” He chuckled. “Only members and friends allowed.”
I pouted and tapped my chin with my fingers. I slid my hand down my neck and dragged the zipper. He practically salivated when I revealed more cleavage. His eyes were glued as I reached in and grabbed Reid’s card. I slid it out. Spiderman’s eye remained on my tits. I shook it in front of his face.
“What’s this?” He read it and his face went white. “Fuck me.”
Superman had joined us.
“What?” He reached for the card and skimmed it. “Get your hands off her and let her in.” They both stepped to the side and gestured for me to enter. It was such a formal and coordinated move, I half expected to hear trumpets, followed by my name being announced upon my arrival.
Stepping into the foyer, all I heard was noise. Music on top of people yelling. The mass of the partygoers gathered around the left open space in the vast room. I spotted the main bar along the back, but other makeshift tables were set up in the four corners with beer and liquor manned by women in scantily clad angel costumes.
I surveyed the room and discovered that only the women were in full costumes. The men from the Infinity Kings and some other gangs wore leather jeans and their cuts. Most with no shirts. They all wore some type of intricate lace or vinyl mask. It felt like what I imagined a sex club in New Orleans would look like during Mardi Gras. Not that I’d ever been to one.
It was early, but the alcohol flowed, and people were getting more comfortable. I grabbed a beer from the table to my right and then proceeded around the perimeter to the back of the club. The sign stated that only members could use the hall leading to the private area. I found an angle and watched as club members went in and out. One or two, I recognized from the diner the other night.
No sign of Patrick or Reid.
I tried to keep my head down and stay inconspicuous. It didn’t work.
“Hey, cat woman.” One guy in a prospect cut approached with a drink in his hand. “I got you something a little stronger.”
I smiled and took the drink. A group of people danced close by. I stepped to the side and faked like the dancers bumped me and spilled the drink down the prospect’s front.
“Hey,” he screamed. “Fucking bitch!”
“Oh, my goodness.” I gasped. “I am so sorry.” I patted his front with my tail.
“What’s your problem, prospect?” The guy I bumped into pushed me behind him and squared off against the prospect. “You have no right to speak to a woman like that.” He hit the kid on the back of the head. I didn’t wait for the rest of his punishment. I found another perch to survey the room and the hallway and waited for my opportunity to arrive.
Sonny finally arrivedabout an hour later. Two other older men followed him. The area to the right was partitioned off with rows of chairs in front of a stage with a pole. The lights dimmed, and the music shifted to a sultrier beat. A woman appeared from behind a thick red curtain with two large feather-trimmed fansin each hand. She strutted up and down the stage, waving the fans. She wore gloves, stockings, heels, and nothing else.
The stage show was the perfect distraction. The crowd surged forward, and I worked my way across the room and slipped into the member-only hallway as a biker walked out. It led up a flight of stairs to a single door. If someone walked back here, I’d have nowhere to hide. The guys at the door kept Reid’s card.
The door had a keypad like the others, but it was slightly ajar. I pushed it open and peeked inside. It was empty. The room comprised a sitting area on the left and a kitchenette on the right. A large wooden desk sat in the middle to the back, with stacks of chairs near another door. I scurried over and opened it. It was a closet filled with filing cabinets, some clothes, more stacks of chairs, and a couple of boxes and cases of beer.
I tried opening the first filing cabinet, but it wouldn’t budge. Before I could try another one, I heard voices entering the room.
“The call should come any minute.” It sounded like Reid. “You sure you’re still up for this?”
“Stop fucking asking me that.” The other voice sounded like Patrick. “I’m in this. Just like you.”
“I know.” Reid’s voice rose. “I just don’t want you to have to live with this in your head and regret it later.”
“Listen, Reid.” He paused, but they moved closer to me. “I know you think you have to protect me, and we’ve gotten into some shit where you needed to. But fuck. Seriously, about this, I’m good. The quicker my father is out of the picture, the quicker we both will be free to live our lives. Finish what we started seven years ago.”
“Yeah, back then it felt like a game.”
