Page 20 of That Sik Luv

A visit with an old friend to gain some knowledge. The dirt swept beneath the rug of the men in power was piling up, and exposure was becoming more appealing than the simplicities of the job they paid me to do.

Walking into the nightclub, I feel the familiar thump of the bass rocking through my chest, the steady flashing of red lights melting bodies into one another in a bleeding mess of intoxication. Making my way towards the private rooms near the back, I greet two large men standing tall with their arms crossed over their chests, one with a beard, one without.

“Here for Nox,” I tell the man in front of me.

His eyes narrow and his arms cross tighter, but he does nothing to move or respond.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, looking over at the other guard standing like a statue.

I pull the guns from the back of my pants, holding one to the man’s temple and holding the other out toward the other idiot.

“H-how’d he get that in here?” the other guard asks, choking on his words, backing with his arms raised.

“Apparently it doesn’t take brains or a set of balls to work the fucking door, eh?” I say, shaking my head. “HERE FOR NOX!” I repeat, tapping the barrel of the gun on the man’s head.

The man fumbles behind him, pressing the call button.

I smirk at both men, enjoying the fear they are emitting, almost wondering why this is so easy, before the door behind them opens and I see the man I’m here to see.

Nox’s grin stretches across his face immediately before he cocks a brow, eyeing the guns I have pointed at his men. “I shouldn’t be surprised, really.”

He turns, nodding his shaved, tatted-up head along for me to follow him. I give the boys at the door a quick wink before tucking away my guns and following Nox.

“Yeah, I know,” he begins, walking his lengthy form down the dimly lit hall as he talks. “They aren’t the smartest of the crew, but they pack the most punch. It scares most people away.” He turns back to look at me, before stopping in front of a black door with a red window. “Not that you’re most people, clearly.”

Nox knows me better than anyone else. He knows the depths of my insanity. Serving time together will have you making friends you never thought you would, keeping company with all the wrong people. The people that find your creative criminal and shine it into something more intriguing and more talented than ever before. Prison is an education, one I gained many skills from.

He owns and operates a strip club and bar that washes money for the underground drug Lords. Not only does he dabble in his own supply, both women and drugs, but he also gets paid off by politicians, representatives of the church, and outstanding citizens of our sweet and green community to keep his mouth shut about what happens behind his closed doors. He’s got no ties to anyone. No one but me.

I don’t blame the man for taking a buck where he can. He’s not the one forcing anyone to come in and get a quick suck and fuck, and what happens here is entirely consensual. The dirty girls drooling for cash and the pristine men drooling for dirty girls. The housewives don’t spread themselves open the way these prominent members of society truly desire. No, these men pretend in the light of day and unleash in the dark of the night.

“You here for Anika again?” he asks with a side-eyed grin, putting his key card up to the door. “It’s been a while.”

The door beeps, opening for us.

“Played out,” I scoff. “But this is business, shithead. I need some information from one of your girls.”

“I knew someone as fucked up as you would get sick of her fast. These squares can’t get enough.” He nods to the door where the club is behind us with a chuckle.

“Brandi. Send her out,” I demand.

He holds his hand out, leading the way. I walk into the dark room, where a single red light is shining from the ceiling, focused on a circular stage and a pole that faces toward a plush red couch.

“Take a seat,” he says casually, motioning to the couch. “I’ll let her know you’re ready.”

He turns to walk out of the room but stalls, looking back.

“Always a pleasure, Aero.” He nods with a mischievous smirk, dismissing himself.

I settle back on the couch, legs spread wide, arms resting along the back of it, ready to get this done and over with so I can focus on my latest project. Obliterating Briony in the most primal way. I hear the door click open and a shadow makes its way into the light.

In walks a scantily dressed woman with a long black wig tied back into pigtails, her outfit literally making me roll my eyes.A schoolgirl? A fucking schoolgirl? Could this man be any more obvious?

“Hey, baby,” she says, sauntering towards me on her platform heels. “I heard you wanted me for a private dance?”

She sits her ass on my lap, her tiny little checkered skirt riding up, exposing all of her already. Smelling like cheap alcohol and tanning oil, she leans her back against my chest. Looking back at me, she trails her fingers along her neck, down towards her chest. It’s then I notice the shining crucifix dangling from a chain between her breasts.Fucking hilarious.

She’s got the information I need as she sits here, playing the part of the slutty catholic schoolgirl. The irony.

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