Page 54 of Enemies with Benefits (Finding the Right Brother #1)

"The murder scene tape?" the bouncer asked, and I rolled my eyes because, of course, I wanted the caution tape that had chalk outlines of bodies drawn on it.

I'd once read a review that had called my place an upscale Halloween Spirit in club form, just as tacky but with more effort put in.

The review delighted me so much that I printed it out and hung it on the wall behind the bar.

So, yes, I wanted the equally tacky tape to mark where there was blood everywhere.

"She called the cops," Lydia said, looking down at her phone. "I mean, they were going to show up with the EMTs anyway, but Jesus, what a fucking?—"

"I'll deal with them," I told her, looking around. "You and that twink you decided to hire when I was gone can clean this up. Sure hope you trained him to deal with contamination and biohazard spills."

"He has a name, you know."

"Still a twink."

"Sure, but try not to fuck him if you can."

"I think you're good on that. I don't sleep with employees."

"Uh, I have a distinct memory of you and me here after hours that contradicts that statement."

"That's different, you're here for the long haul, my dick going inside you once?—"

"It was more than once," she smirked before waving down said twink. "Get that tight little ass back here, we've got a mess to clean up."

"Yes, ma'am," he shouted, turning to set his tray down.

"Oh, now I see why you don't want me going after him," I laughed. "Ma'am, is it?"

"What?" she asked, blinking. "I wouldn't sleep with an employee either."

"If you haven't pegged him, you're bound to," I snorted, turning to glance toward the entrance where I could already see lights flashing outside. "Amazing, record time for them. Of course."

Any other time, and the cops would have taken their sweet time showing up.

It wasn't like it was unusual for a bar or club to have issues with a patron, but we definitely had our fair share of problems. Of course, that was usually someone being so belligerently drunk that the cops needed to be called to haul them out.

The much more standard occurrence was a fight.

The security team usually broke both up, but that didn't mean we didn't call the cops.

If you were going to come into my place and start shit, you weren't just going to get hauled out and dumped on the street, you were going to find your dumb ass in a cell for the night too.

Not that I hadn't been tempted to have them taken out back and thrashed by security, but.

..that would set a bad precedent, and generally speaking, I didn't want a security team that enjoyed and relied on violence.

I took a moment to look around the club, trying to find Jace before I had to disappear outside and deal with the mess that had decided to show itself the moment I'd come back.

There were plenty of people, but a lot of them were starting to drift toward the doors out of morbid curiosity, which made it easier to seek Jace out in the crowd, though it wasn't actually all that hard.

Although all sorts of people came into the club, Jace still stood out purely because he was that big.

There he was, a giant among men and women, standing away from the dance floor with the four people I’d left him with.

I studied him for a moment, trying to assess how he was doing now he'd been on his own without my supervision.

To my mild surprise, he was actually talking, and at one point smiled when one of the guys leaned in closer to say something.

Odd. I didn't like that very much, if the sudden discomfort in my gut was any indication.

I especially didn't like it when the guy laid a hand on his arm and continued talking with Jace, apparently enjoying himself.

I flicked the feeling away like an irritating bug had landed on me.

I had never tried to possess anyone before, and I wasn't going to start now, especially with someone I just.. .well, I didn't know.

"Make sure he and the group he's with are taken care of," I told Lydia, gesturing toward Jace.

Lydia looked up from where she was removing the bottles and glasses that hadn't taken a blood spatter and raised a brow. “Is that your new boy toy or what? Why's he with them?"

"Because he needs to learn to loosen up and have a little fun, and who better than people who already know how to do that?"

"Sort of figured that was your job since you brought him."

"I had to contract that job out the moment someone decided to turn one of my bars into a crime scene. And look, they seem to be doing just fine at the job. So I'd say it's money worth spending."

Lydia eyed me. “So, are you going to explain what's going on, or am I just supposed to see you acting weird as hell and pretend like I don't?"

"Remember when you asked if I was ever going to tell you about my dad?"

"You never did."

"There you go."

She rolled her eyes. “See, this is why I say heterosexuality as a woman is cursed because men are just the stupidest, most stubborn creatures alive."

"You do realize that abstinence and perpetual singleness are a thing, right?"

"As if."

"Alright, then don't bitch about how infuriating men are when you keep willingly dealing with them."

That earned another eye roll, but I took the victory for what it was.

Honestly, bickering about each other's respective gender was a form of small talk for us after working together for so many years.

She said all men were stubborn, piggish, egotistical assholes with no sense of self-preservation, and I said that women were all crazy, wildly inconsistent, couldn't say what they meant, and the biggest gossips the world had ever seen.

Then we'd do a shot together, and she'd bitch that it was unfair that I got to be with other guys because guys understood another guy better than a woman ever would, meanwhile, she could understand another woman easily, but was stuck only liking dick.

Then we'd start rating patrons while commenting on just how stupid people could be.

She was about as close as I got to having a best friend, just the kind of best friend I only talked to when I was in town.

"Go," she said, waving a dish rag over her shoulder, clearly irritated with my constant refusal to talk about the 'real stuff' as she put it.

I glanced over one more time, letting my eyes linger on Jace for a while before pulling my attention away again.

I was lucky that this time, no one invaded his personal space, but Jace hadn’t appeared to mind and seemed to enjoy the invasion.

I dismissed the thought before it found root and instead focused on the good image.

The sight of him standing there in clothes that fit him perfectly, almost a little too well, actually.

Smiling in my club while he held one of the more potent drinks the bar had to offer, clearly enjoying himself.

I was probably going to need that image with the renewed sounds of fighting coming from outside.