Page 19

Wolf eyed the man at the far end of the stage.

The dude had been here dozens of times and always requested Candie for a lap dance on Thursday nights.

The club had four private rooms for that purpose.

The doors had small windows that were not allowed to be blocked, nor the door itself locked.

Generally, the dancers got to decide if any touching was allowed, but for the most part, the men who paid them for the private dances kept their hands to themselves.

Wolf thought it was worrisome to see him here again on a Saturday night, but maybe the dude had extra money or just had a bad week.

Wolf could relate. Part of his bad mood might be the frustrating crap between him and Jazz.

After the Easter dinner and surprising kiss, she’d changed her behavior toward him, and he hated it.

When they were at the bakery, she spoke only when she had to and went out of her way to avoid him.

Her mixed words and phrases he found so cute had all but dried up.

Every single time he made an attempt to banter or tease her, she clammed up tight.

He asked her what was wrong, and the only answer he got was “Nothing” or “Nothing, I’m fine. ”

It was driving him bananas, and frankly, he missed their interaction.

The kiss surprised him. When he talked her into that pretend thing for her parents, he did it partially out of amusement and partially out of curiosity.

The woman intrigued him, and he found himself wanting to know more and more about her.

He genuinely enjoyed her company, something he couldn’t say about other women he’d known.

The interactions with her family showed him another side of her he hadn’t expected—vulnerability.

It pissed him off to hear her mom and sister putting her down for what he considered her successes, and the kiss was supposed to be a way to mess with them.

Instead, it set off a bomb inside him, and he wanted more.

A lot more.

It frustrated him that Jazz was stonewalling him, and every minute he was around her now, he spent an enormous amount of brainpower trying to figure out how to scale that fortress.

Candie approached the man at the bar and draped her arms over his shoulders. Wolf’s focus changed, thinking the gesture was a bit too familiar. He flicked two fingers at Camshaft. “Who’s the jagoff with Candie?”

“New boyfriend. He used to pay extra to touch her tits. She said he was a regular who politely came in a handkerchief before she finished a lap dance, always thanked her, and left a generous tip. She developed a soft spot for him and started ‘dating’ him.” Cam put the word dating in air quotes.

“I don’t know how that works when he still has to pay for it. ”

Tonight, the guy was drinking heavily and getting sloppy.

Wolf jutted his chin in the man’s direction. “Keep an eye on him, yeah? Something’s off.”

There was a strange vibe in the air tonight.

A tension he couldn’t put his finger on, but he felt antsy, as if waiting for disaster to strike.

He hoped it was just his own personal anxieties from the week at the bakery and this new thing with Jazz.

Hopefully, whatever friction bothered him would pass into an easy Sunday. He was due for a day off.

“Candie is takin’ her guy in the back for a private show. Room two,” Camshaft shouted over the pounding music. Ellie was up on the stage in white star pasties, thigh-high lace stockings, and long fringe across her crotch.

“He paying for a lap dance or something else?”

Cam shook his head. “I don’t know, man. It’s a weird night.”

So, Cam was sensing it too. Fuck. “Keep an eye on them, yeah?”

Ellie finished her dance and made the rounds for her tips.

Men stuffed cash in her thong as she squatted and shook her bare ass in their faces.

One reached for a pasty, and she deftly moved out of the way as she giggled and shook her finger at him in a naughty-boy gesture.

Nadja was up next, but before she brandished her signature Dom whip routine, there was a major commotion at the front.

“Get out of my fuckin’ way, asshole! I know that piece of shit is here!”

Fuck no. Wolf spotted the woman shoving and slapping at Camshaft, and his stomach flipped over. What the hell is Liz doing here?

He fired off a text to Jazz and pushed through the crowd, not caring if he knocked a few of them over as he hurried to get to the fighting woman. She clawed at Cam’s face and broke free.

“Let go of me, fuckwad. I wanna know where my gawddamn husband is hiding. Where the fuck is he?”

Wolf spoke in the commanding voice he used to have for new recruits. “What the fuck, Liz?”

“Wolf?” She stopped her tirade for a brief moment, looking up at him in surprise.

“What the hell are you doing here? Does Jazzy know you go to titty bars?” Then her face twisted into absolute rage.

“Ya know, I don’t fuckin’ care. You can take your sorry ass and go piss up a fuckin’ rope. Where the fuck is Leo?”

Wolf blocked her way as she pushed and fought him. “I don’t know who you’re talking about. You need to calm the fuck down and go outside.”

That set her off like a nuclear bomb. “Calm down? Kiss my fuckin’ ass! Fuck you and your fuckin’… fuckin’…,” she spluttered, out of words.

Wolf took the opportunity to herd her toward the door. “Outside, Liz.”

“No!”

Wolf clamped down on his temper and ground his teeth.

Obviously, she was worked up enough that reasoning was not going to cut it.

He could simply bear-hug the woman and bodily carry her from the place, but how would Jazz feel about him manhandling her sister?

The entirety of the club was focused on the drama there at the front, and it wouldn’t be long before Scrap came down from his throne and tossed Liz out on her ass.

Literally. The man didn’t give a shit if it was a woman making trouble.

He was an equal opportunity asshole to everyone.

Liz screeched again. “Leo! You son of a bitch, I know you’re here!”

Fuck it, Wolf thought as he wrapped his arms around the woman and lifted her off her feet. One of her flailing legs caught his shin, and he grunted in pain. “Stop fighting me and this will go a lot easier.”

She cussed him out as he hauled the struggling woman outside. She made contact twice more before he made it to the street. Camshaft blocked the entrance, and Wolf set Liz on her feet. She shoved at him, trying to get back into the building. “Get the fuck outta my way! I’m going in there!”

“No, you’re not.” He blocked her over and over when she tried to linebacker her way past him. Minutes passed, and Wolf had to admit the woman’s stamina was impressive. She was not going to give up without a fight, and one of them would have to back down eventually. He hoped it wouldn’t be him.

“What’s going on?”

Oh thank God, Wolf thought as Jazz arrived. “Your sister’s not happy. Says her husband, some guy named Leo, is in the club. She was out of control in there, and I had to make her leave.”

“Leo is in there right now!” Liz yelled. Her red face was contorted with anger as she pointed at the club entrance.

“Liz, calm down,” Jazz started, but then she was cut off much like Wolf had been.

“Don’t you tell me what to do! My husband is here cheating on me with some stripper!”

“I thought you two were separated. Weren’t you talking about some guy you met at the grocers?”

Liz ignored that sentence. “He’s still my husband, dammit!”

Wolf blocked another rushing-the-door attempt. “Look, you can’t go in there and make a scene. What does he look like?”

Liz huffed and jerked her phone impatiently from her pocket. She scrolled through the pictures until she found what she wanted and thrust the screen into Wolf’s face. “Here he is. Leo the lyin’ asshole.”

Shit. Wolf glanced back at Camshaft and held up two fingers. His jaw tightened even more, and he wondered if his teeth would crack under the pressure. His friend raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips in a silent whistle. This was not going to be good.

“You know where he is, don’t you?” Liz accused. Her hair was a ratty tangle from the fight to get her out of the club and her wild charges to get back in.

Jazz tried again. “There’s a coffee shop not far away. Why don’t we go there and wait while Wolf and his friend go look for Leo?”

“Fuck that! I’m not movin’ until that jagoff comes out!”

“Come on, Liz, be reasonable.”

“Fuck reasonable, and fuck you!” She punctuated the sentence by throwing her phone at Jazz, striking her on the cheek. Jazz yelped and jerked to the side from the impact. Camshaft swore and moved to block the out-of-control woman from any more physical shit.

Wolf lost his temper. “Oh hell no. That’s not happening here. You have about a minute and a half before I call the police.”

“I said I’m not leaving!’

“Suit yourself.” He dialed 911 to make the report.

“Please, Liz. If you get arrested, who’s gonna watch the boys tonight?” Jazz held her hand to her cheek but kept her distance.

“Mom ’n’ Dad are at the house.” She turned to Wolf with an ugly sneer on her face. “Sure. Call the police. I’ll report how you assaulted me.”

Wolf rolled his eyes and kept his attention on the angry woman. Camshaft kept himself in front of her, arms out wide to keep her from running back into the club. No one could say he touched her, but he made sure she didn’t come near the entrance or Wolf and Jazz.

Wolf made a come-here gesture to Jazz. “Let me see.” He examined the spot with gentle fingers. There was a nice bruise forming but no blood. He wasn’t sure he could hold back if she’d been cut.

Blue lights appeared but no sirens. This wasn’t the first time the police had been called to the club, and Wolf was sure it wouldn’t be the last, but since no guns were involved, he requested that they not come in hot.

“Yo, Wolf. What’s up?” The officer approached casually. “Someone get a little too excited around the girls?”

“Not this time, Denny. Ex-wife showed up.”

“We’re just separated!” Liz’s face was beet red, and she showed no signs of de-escalating.

Jazz stayed to the side, as if she realized there was nothing she could do but let the scene play out.

Wolf hated doing this, but Liz was not giving him any other choice. “That’s her if you didn’t catch it.”

Officer Denny turned to Liz and started talking with a placating tone. Liz wasn’t having it, and the words that came out of her mouth would make a sailor raise an eyebrow.

Jazz pulled at Wolf’s arm to get his attention, still holding her cheek. “What’s going to happen to her? Is she going to jail?”

Wolf sighed. “That’s up to her and what she does next. Hey, Cam. Go get me some ice, yeah?”

Cam leaned in and kept his voice low. “I took a look at room two. He’s… um… engaged with Candie.”

Can there be any more shit to pile on tonight? Wolf’s temper was about to explode. “You’re fucking with me, right? Candie damn well knows there’s no ‘engagement’ at the club. What the fuck are they doing?”

Camshaft’s eyes shifted to the screaming woman and then to a curious Jazz. “They’re busy. Uh, house special.”

“We don’t have house specials. Busy how?”

The younger man hesitated a moment more and finally said in a low voice, “She’s giving him a blow job, and under the circumstances, I decided to let them finish instead of making more trouble.”

“Fuck.” Wolf raised his eyes to the dark sky and counted to ten. Then did it again. Not helping.

Jazz kept her silence. This was good, as another unholy screech erupted from Liz’s mouth.

“You cocksucking fuckwad!”

Denny had his cuffs out and moved to put them on Liz. She, of course, screamed and fought back, making that task impossible without more force. Jazz stood to the side, her face incredulous, as if she couldn’t believe the drama unfolding in front of her eyes.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the person who started all this mess appeared a second later.

“Liz? What the fuck are you doin’ here? Hey, leggo my wife!”

“Fuck,” Wolf repeated. What else could go wrong?

He regretted that thought a moment later when an old dark gray Buick drove by and opened fire.