Page 65 of SWAT

“Any sign of Sands?” I asked when we reached Jonathan.

He shook his head. “No, but there’s been two extreme scenes in here.”

“You didn’t stop them?”

“It was touch and go. I’m not going to watch something non-con, but equally I don’t want to blow our cover.” He seemed in conflict with himself. “Luckily it stopped just as I was about to make my way on stage.”

It was hardly a stage, just a large bed on a platform, and beside it wooden stocks and a rack holding a variety of whips, canes and cuffs.

“Good. Where’s Ricardo?”

“He’s checking back there.” He jerked his head to the right. “We don’t want Sands to get through this section if he’s disturbed from whatever he’s doing by us. Seems to me this place isn’t hot on fire escapes either.”

“Only one exit, right?”

“Yep.”

“Makes our job easier.”

“And makes it a human oven if someone drops a cigarette in the wrong place.”

I hated the thought of being trapped in a fire, but I pushed that from my mind. We had work to do.

“Do you know what’s back there?” I asked.

“I’d guess private booths, but this place…it’s not your usual BDSM club. It’s playing without rules.”

“We figured that,” Sean said.

“Look.” Balko jerked his head to the right.

A tall guy with swept back, greasy hair was walking along the outskirts of the room with his arms around the backs of two young girls, twenty-somethings perhaps. He seemed to be ushering them, no, more than ushering…he was dragging them.

They were dressed modestly, jeans and T-shirts, barely any makeup and flat shoes. Each seemed a little staggery, as if drunk or maybe even drugged.

“A bit out of place, wouldn’t you say?” I ran my hand over my leather skirt, instinctively checking my weapon.

Jonathan looked me up and down, then turned his attention back to the man and the girls. “Do we know who he is?”

I shook my head. “No, but he’s giving me bad vibes. I’m surprised the uniforms outside didn’t spot him.” I paused. There were eight uniformed cops waiting as backup on the next block. “He must be twenty years older than those girls, and I’m guessing not the kind of guy their fathers would want them to bring home.” I turned to Balko. “You wait here, cover that exit with the curtain.”

He nodded.

“Lead the way,” I said to Jonathan.

We slipped through the hordes of men packed in watching the stage, waiting for the next sordid scene. Most were dressed in black casual clothes, not an attempt to dress up for the occasion the way the Doms at The Dungeon would.

As we went deeper, the sense of menace and disregard swelled around me.

One guy grinned at me, flashing a lack of upper teeth.

Sean pulled me tighter to his side.

I wasn’t sure why. Sean knew damn well I could look after myself.

A low, thumping rap song started, reminding me of a heartbeat. There were a few whistles and shouts of ‘get on with it.’

I was sandwiched between Jonathan and Sean, but that didn’t stop another man, tattoo covering half of his face, leer my way. He slid his hand up my skirt, luckily the leg without the concealed gun.

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