Page 75 of Broken Blood Ties

We pile in and the car takes off through the city traffic. We talk and giggle while sipping the flask of absinthe Penny brought us, and by the time the car finally pulls to a stop, I’m successfully buzzed and ready for cocktails that taste more like fruit instead of licorice.

Tim’s eyes drag over each of our exposed thighs, ping-ponging back and forth like he can’t pick which set to stare between.

The door opens again, and giddy, we all pour out of the town car, tempted by the secrecy of this club, and the allure that seems to have Tim overly excited.

I laugh when Penny tugs at my ponytail, joking about how some men might like to have my ponytail wrapped around their fist.

A dark alleyway greets us. I glance around, trying to place where in the city we may be, but I spot nothing familiar and my stomach flips. The flicker of a neon sign grabs my attention and I realize, instead of club signage, it’s for a pawnshop.

We’re ushered into the alleyway. The narrow space between the two dirty buildings is filled with trash, broken glass, and crumpled newspapers. Not paying attention, my heel drags through a puddle of stagnant, murky water. Disgusting.

Penny clings to my arm, cutting off any circulation in my biceps and fusses when I try to shrug her off.

Tim pauses in front of a metal door. Where strips of graffiti decorate the overflowing dumpster, this metal door is shiny and free from any vandalism. He raises a hand upward, and it takes me a minute to realize he’s waving it in front of a camera tucked into the corner.

Taking a deep breath, I glance back toward where the car dropped us off and has not departed. I palm my chest, fiddling with the outline of my phone tucked into my bra.

“EV?” Rebbecca says, her long fingers tracing the initials engraved in the door. She looks at me, and I shrug. I’ve never heard of this place either, but I seek out the cufflinks I noticed on Tim earlier.

A bulky man opens the door in black tactical gear that reminds me of my father’s guards. Looks like these people are pretty serious about not letting anyone in here. He shares a few words with Tim, which I miss trying to get a peek inside.

Red lighting pulses from somewhere deep in the building, and before I know it, we’re ushered through hanging velvet curtains into a club dripping with red leather booths and velvet chairs. Exquisite white marble tables sit interspersed around the floor, facing a sprawling stage where several topless women are parading about.

“Umm …” Penny mutters under her breath. “Where’s the dancing?”

Tim turns, stopping his progress toward the bar, and lifts a thumb to swipe at her lower lip. “Most of that takes place over there.” He points to a long line of red curtains, some pulled back showing tiny empty rooms with couches and walls covered in mirrors. But others are closed, and I’m not sure I need to guess what takes places behind them.

As I continue to look around, several young girls grind overtop men in suits as the handsy men grope and feel with lust-filled eyes.

“Oh my—” Rebecca clutches my arm and physically forces my chin to look at the ceiling. Reinforced cube cages hang overhead, and women, wearing all black as opposed to those on stage in red, are packed inside. Eyes glassy and heads drooping, their arms and legs hang out of the open grate like boxes, and a gasp dies in my throat.

“This is one kinky place,” Rebecca jokes to Tim.

“The girls love it. They are relaxed and floating on clouds right now. Here, want to float, too?” He pulls out an Altoids tin from inside his suit pocket and opens it, offering her a light blue wafer-like disc about the size of a penny. He continues to hold her stare while he calls to the bartender. “Whatever these girls want tonight, Felix. No exceptions.”

Those words worm their way into Rebecca because she bats her eyelashes and picks a disc out of the tin to slip under her tongue.

“Don’t take that!” Penny smacks her hand from her mouth, but it’s too late.

“Aw, loosen up, Penny. I thought we were having a good time tonight.” She shakes her hips and reaches for the drink that’s made its way into Tim’s hand already. She takes a sip while he tracks her movements. A grimy smile about as dirty as the alleyway we came through spreads across his lips.

He offers me the tin, and I pluck a disc out, tucking it in my bra. When he furrows his brow at me, I say, “Saving it for later.” Then I wink at him.

I seriously hope there are some other businessmen here, preferably hot, or else this whole secret club thing will not be worth it for me. Tim has the rich part down, but he plays the creepy old man too well.

Three drinks are placed on the spectacular wooden bar top that would rival my father’s restaurants and personal bar at home any day. I pick up the pink drink with a screwed strawberry and take a sip. Liquor and sweet fruit bursts over my tongue and I shudder.

“Here’s to not remembering tomorrow!” I raise my glass and Penny and Rebecca raise theirs, although Penny is reluctant.

Rebecca smirks and winks at Tim. “Drink up, bitches!”

* * *

The white marble floor beneath my feet sways. I think I’m walking. Maybe it’s more like stumbling. Oh! I’m floating. Tim said he’d make me float.

Wait, where’s Tim?

Something’s warm and hard beneath me, and it moves. Whoa. I giggle.