Page 64 of SWAT

Nothing.

“You have one second to think about it.” Balko stepped forward again. “And then—”

“Yes, yes, sit here, do as I’m told. I’ve got it.” He held up his hands. “Whatever. Okay. I get it.” His brow folded into three lines.

“Good,” Sean said, picking up the man’s cell, which sat on the desk. He pocketed it. “That means you won’t have to take a beating from the crazy Russian here who tends to have his own version of law enforcement.”

I wondered if Balko would object to being called Russian. He didn’t. I guessed it was part of their good cop, bad cop routine.

“Do you have a register?” I asked. “A list of everyone coming and going?”

He looked at me like I was mad. “No.”

“You should.” I spun my finger in a circle. “No register, no cameras—how do you know who’s in your club and what’s going on?”

“It’s in here.” He tapped the side of his head. “I’m the eyes and ears of this place.”

“And if things get heated, you got security?” I asked.

“You’re looking at security.” He puffed up his chest. “I run a tight ship.”

“Somehow I don’t believe that.” I nodded at Balko and Sean. “Come on, we’re going in.”

The club was grim. It was dark and dingy. The air stale with sweat and sex. But that didn’t seem to put people off and there was quite a crowd around a podium where two guys were fucking a woman, one in each hole as she was held wide with spreaders. She seemed into it, though, her high-pitched gasps and toe curling a tell-tale sign.

I drew my attention away.

There was only one thing I wanted to see. Mark Sands’ ugly face, so we could bring him down.

I was jostled by a guy with thickset shoulders and was shoved to the right.

Balko was there, his arm around me. “You okay?”

“Of course.”

Sean swept his gaze over the room. “You see Jonathan or Ricardo?”

I shook my head. Though I was at a disadvantage because even in heels I was shorter than nearly everyone. It was then I realised that ninety percent of the clientele were men. Unlike The Dungeon, which was fifty-fifty male and female, this place was all about the dudes. “Is it for gays?”

“No,” Sean said. “It’s for hardcore pervs who are into non-con.” He took my hand. “Which means there must be more to it than this because she’s having a fucking awesome time. Let’s take a look around.”

I followed behind him. It was odd to let one of my team take the lead—take me in hand—when on a job, but here, it was the best way not to draw attention to myself.

Sean wound through the men. The action on stage was hotting up. Another man had joined in, adding his cock to her mouth.

A sliver of desire went through me. If she was enjoying it as much as she sounded like she was, then good for her. To have three cocks at the same time, that was fun. Though personally I’d ditch the audience.

I spotted someone surreptitiously filming the action on stage. Oh yes, I’d definitely lose the crowd. Wouldn’t want that turning up on YouTube.

“There’s another room, back here.” Sean pulled a heavy black curtain to one side.

This area was smaller and the ceiling lower. It was a fraction darker too and we paused to let our focus adjust.

I spotted Jonathan to my right.

“Over there,” I said into Sean’s ear.

He spotted him and nodded.

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