Page 2 of Into the Blue (Shades of Vengeance #1)

It’s a good night to make some money. Benito has a sack and I’m sure these boys wanna smoke a lil’ somethin’ while they kick back and throw some money on these asses shaking.

A server passes by me with some wings and a steak on her tray and I consider getting something for myself. I decide against it because I don’t want to wait on the food. I might be ready to go once the green’s all sold.

I’m about to say as much to Redd but something catches my attention instead.

Six inch heels lead up to the smallest skirt I’ve ever seen. The lights bounce off of the stretchy fabric as it hugs onto her curvy hips for dear life. The string that’s holding her fishnets up disappears under the little scrap of black and sparkles.

I manage to rip my eyes away from the intoxicating sway of her hips to the blingy gems dangling from her belly button ring.

It moves in time over her brown skin with her steps, just as tantalizing as her hips.

A thin silver ring loops under her round nose, highlighting how cute the size and shape of it is.

Another set of thin strings cross over her healthy waist to a set of titties that make me lick my lips.

The same sparkling black fabric stretches impossibly tight over them creating an opening at the middle, begging for my face to be pressed between them.

Mentally, I’m running my tongue between them, up to a juicy set of heart shaped lips and—

Fuck me , her sharp brown eyes are already on me.

The gloss on those lips shimmers as her mouth hikes up on one side and she winks at me. Winks.

I’m done.

Never been one to give two fucks about a stripper in this club.

I’ve seen them all, and had my fun with more than I should have.

None of them deserved my time, my attention, or my money.

But fuck it, when you’ve got money to blow and a stack is the difference between you and you-plus-one fun —I’m gonna blow a stack or two.

It’s been a while.

Since I started noticing too many slips and coincidences in the business, I’ve been hesitant to let anybody get close to me.

Nothing is more important than the money. When the money is not doing what I want, nothing and no one can keep my attention.

“You like that?” Redd asks when I’m still standing there outside of the office.

Now that all the contracts are signed and Allen is on game, I’m ready for this work day to come to an end.

This sparkling woman striding across the room would be the best way to do just that.

I scrub a hand over my face and shake my head. “Fuck. I more than like it.”

She passes me by and I’m still standing here like a fucking lame with my hands in my fucking pants.

“I’ll talk to A.” Redd steps around me, but I put a hand on his arm.

Redd is quick to act and second to think.

If he sees it, he wants it and there is nothing, not a law or force, that could stand between him and getting what he wants.

If I don’t stop him, he’ll do too much too soon.

Though we’re moving in the right direction, I’m still not in the clear to give my attention to anyone else.

“Nah.” I shake my head, locs swinging around my face. I tie one around the rest to hold them back. “I’ll watch for now.”

Money machines rush like rain on a concrete pavement for the line of people trying to get one and five dollar bills cashed out to throw. The thunk of a bucket full of green stacks sounds off next to us as we walk deeper into the club.

The platform splits the main floor in half as three poles are all occupied by dancers moving around or on them to the tempting rhythm of the song playing. A DJ encourages the men salivating at the edge of the stage to throw their cash on them and bills start falling all around the women.

I pass the stage all together to the booth we normally occupy.

While me, Redd, and Vert make our way over, Benito is already selling what he has on him.

Moments later, our usual drink orders are placed on the table.

Thanking the waitress, I pick up the glass and take a sip.

The Jack warms as it goes down but my thoughts are somewhere else instead of the win I should be feeling after signing for ownership of this place.

“She’s not out here,” Redd comments over the music.

“Who?” I play dumb even though I’ve been looking around for the woman I already said I didn’t have time for.

Setting his drink down, my friend gives me a look full of incredulity. “You think I’m blind or somethin’?” He makes a point of opening his eyes as big as they will go and blinking rapidly. He’s a clown. Like I said, always doing too much.

“Never said that,” I chuff and try to relax into the booth and stop looking for her.

“Yea, whatever.” He scratches his short red beard and acts nonchalant as he delivers his next line. “She went to the black door. Means she’s not workin’ the stage tonight.”

I look to my man, and he lifts his chin toward the hallway where the private rooms are.

No.

An acute pain starts behind my eyes as I think over what it means.

If she’s working private rooms, then anybody could have her for the night. Unlike many of the clubs in the state, if someone buys a private room here, they have the girl for the night—not the hour.

Off Topz is a titty bar to stay above board.

No bottoms come off on stage or on the floor.

It’s an easy way to get this place shut down if it did happen.

The way Manel got around it was these private rooms—disguised as living quarters for the dancers.

The laws had to know that’s not what they were for but since these rooms were secure and no photographic evidence got out, they turned a blind eye.

From what I could understand, the club makes good money off those rooms. Whether I will continue that part of the club's dealings is undetermined. I never had any interest in all that, I’d just take a dancer to my place if I chose to.

Rarely did. But I think back to the woman I saw for just a moment earlier and my brain short circuits.

The thought of someone else having her for the night is not a pleasant one. I slam the glass onto the table and step out of the booth, stalking over to the bar.

“Another?” The bartender, Chanel, asks. She used to be on the floor with the other dancers.

Her pointy red nails clink on glasses she’s setting out for a drink order that matches her bright red hair that’s swooped to one side and then down her back.

Before now, I probably would have tried it, but now she’s an employee and it’s not a good idea.

Ignoring her question, I ask my own. “Who’s the new girl?”

Chanel taps on the ordering system with her knuckle since her nails are too long to make contact with her finger tips. My patience is thinning, but I know this is also how they look up reservations for the dancers, as well as, bar tabs.

“Oh,” she smiles. “Talkin’ about Diamond.” Diamond . She looks up at me with her finger hovering over the screen. “You want her?”

Yes .

I don’t say it aloud, but Chanel must pick up on my facial expression and taps away at the screen. “Room five, boss.”

I am their boss now.

Don’t really know if I want or need everyone spouting off about that though. “Look, be chill. Don’t call me boss.” She raises an eyebrow, but I add, “I will take another.”

Walking back to the booth with a drink in my hand, I take my seat.

It’s gotten even busier in here since I’ve been at the bar.

Benito is in the crowd and it looks like Lonny came in to help him divvy up the green.

I nod my head, feeling even more affirmed in my decision to snatch this place up.

This revenue only adds to the empire. Two birds with one stone—it’s good business.

“I know you’re not boppin’ to this.” Redd gives me shit, but I stop for a second to actually listen to what song is playing. It’s a raunchy rap song by that artist from Memphis. I don’t really care for it one way or another.

I wasn’t dancing.

I was scheming.

“Shut up,” I tell him, taking another sip of my drink.

Pretty soon the club is full and only standing room is available.

I take out my cigar, gutting it and filling it from the stash in my back pocket.

The musty smell of weed wafts into the air but my guys are so used to it none of them stop what they’re doing to check on me.

I’m quick to roll and lick the blunt to wrap it tight and tuck it behind my ear.

The second one is faster and now I have one behind both.

“Imma take a step outside. You comin’?”

He nods and we leave out of the back door after shouldering through the busy crowd. Marcell and Benito are close behind, but they remain silent. They’re working, not here in a social capacity. Vert hangs back in the club, probably being the broody shit he always is. Fucking vamp.

I light the end of my blunt when we get to the side of the building the lights don’t illuminate. After a deep drag in, I say, “Got a room.”

“No shit,” Redd says, taking the blunt from me. He inhales and holds the smoke for a time before exhaling O’s up toward the night sky. “I knew it.”

“You didn’t know shit,” I say, snatching the blunt back from him.

He leans against the wall with a look I can’t discern on his face. In a lower tone, so the other men can’t hear, he says, “I ain’t ever seen you look at a chick like that.”

“So what?” I blow out smoke and watch it dance in the thick, humid night air.

“Nothin’.”

“Nah. Say it.”

He takes his time to finish the blunt without passing it back to me. I roll my eyes and light the next one without passing to him. He stomps the butt of the blunt in the concrete and kicks the roach over to the grass. “We were gonna just sign this shit and go. Now, we’re stayin’?”

My voice is collected and calm as I answer him. “You don’t have to do shit. Leave after this blunt. I don’t give a fuck.”