Page 5 of The Reluctant Siren (Texas Sirens: Legacy #2)

Jensen glanced down at his phone and realized two hours had gone by.

He’d broken up two fights, kicked out a dude who had too much, and called an Uber for a woman who had a trauma response to watching a scene.

He’d tried to talk to her but she didn’t want to be near him.

They needed female tops.

That woman might have talked to a Domme, but this place wasn’t a real club.

It was a front for a criminal organization, and management didn’t care about the mental health of its clients.

Phil had told him they were a more traditional establishment with what he called stricter gender roles, i.e.

men dominated women and not the other way around.

He took a long breath of cool night air, needing to be outside for a moment.

And then kind of wished he hadn’t since this part of the city wasn’t the nicest and this was where everyone came to take their smoke breaks.

It was right behind the back room of the club, and it was also where the trash bin was.

A good metaphor for his life.

“Hey, was that lady okay?”

Jensen glanced over and noticed one of the new guys standing in the doorway.

Jack Cameron had been hired on as a bartender the week before and seemed to be a good kid.

Kid? Hell, Jensen was only a couple of years older than Jack was, but he felt like there were decades between them. According to his “application,”

Jack Cameron was twenty-two and fresh out of college with a mountain of debt and no job to show for it. He had some bartending experience, so he was falling back on it.

It was the story of so many young people these days.

It made them vulnerable to people like Hamilton who told them he could solve their problems, who offered them a different way out.

One that led to a shallow grave or jail time.

Jack showed up for work every night for the last three weeks and in a few more, he would be asked to run an errand.

That errand would be highly criminal and they would have evidence, and then Jack Cameron would have far worse bills to pay than his student loans.

“She’s on her way home.

Her sister is waiting for her there.

I managed to get her to call home to make sure she wouldn’t be alone and that someone is looking for her.

The asshole she came with didn’t care. He was too busy hitting on some other woman.”

Jensen looked to the younger man.

He was a handsome kid and earnest as hell.

This was exactly the vulnerable young people Hamilton liked to screw over.

If there was any way to get him out before this went down, he would.

“The fire play scene freaked her out.”

“Yeah, I can see how. That’s an advanced scene,”

Jack said with a frown, letting the door close behind him. He didn’t do what most of the staff did. He didn’t reach for a pack of smokes or a vape. He had a bottle of water in his hand.

“Given how this is a tourist place I’m surprised it’s okay to run a scene like that.”

He seemed to remember something—likely that the whole place had ears—and held his hands up.

“But I’m just a bartender. What would I know?”

Jensen tilted his head, taking in the young man. He had dark hair and green eyes and the kind of lean, muscular body that would ensure he didn’t lack for any kind of romantic attention he might want. Likely from women, but there was something about the young man that made him think he might be a bit more sexually fluid than that. Which never bothered him. He’d been hit on by guys before and merely took it as a compliment, explained his own sexuality and thanked them for their interest. Harlow told him watching him handle getting hit on by a dude made her interested in him.

“You sound like you know a lot. Tourist and play and even the word scene mean something in a place like this.”

It would if this club was legit, but he didn’t talk about that to the uninitiated.

“Oh, yeah. I did some research when I first hired on,”

Jack admitted.

“I heard of it, of course. We talked a lot about it when I was in school. I’m interested in the psychology of the lifestyle. I was thinking about maybe making a study of it for my graduate work. I mean when I can get back to school, of course. I have to pay off the first degree, which is surprisingly hard. You know you can’t do much with an undergraduate psych degree. Apparently you can bartend.”

Jensen hadn’t even thought about going to college. He’d gone into the military and scrimped and saved to try to make things easier for Tommy. Tommy was the smart one. Tommy was the one who had a future.

Sometimes he wished it had been him instead of Tommy and that Tommy had met a girl like Harlow and they named their first kid after his fuck-up brother Jensen who loved him the best he could.

What the hell was he going to do after he took care of Hamilton? It was a question he never would have asked before he met Harlow. Now he had to ask what he actually had to offer her if he ever managed to get her back.

“You okay?”

Jack asked, studying him.

He had to get his damn head in the game. Again, he blamed being close to her. Seeing pictures of her because he was a weirdo freak stalker. She was starting to look happy again, the smiles reaching her eyes.

It had taken every fucking thing he had to not go to her when he found out she’d been shot while protecting a friend. Niall had to give him secondhand information since he’d only recently joined the club and wasn’t in her inner circle. They seemed to be friendlier now, but he would bet they would never be close.

“I’m good, just tired.”

He didn’t even talk to Niall about how hard it was to be close to her. As far as Niall knew he was watching over Harlow because Jensen felt guilty. He hadn’t told Niall how much he hoped he would have another shot with her, that all of this was about getting back to her. He had specifically told Niall he didn’t want to hear about all the Doms she was playing with.

She deserved to have fun, deserved to have someone in her life who took care of her, and right now that couldn’t be him.

Niall would mention it if she was getting serious with someone. Right? Surely it would come up in conversation.

“You seem different than the other guys who work here,”

Jack said, leaning against the brick wall.

That was good for his soul. Not so great for his cover. Still, he wasn’t about to freak out because that might cause more questions. So he posed one of his own. “How so?”

Jack’s green eyes stared his way as though he was trying to figure out how much to say. There were times when the young man seemed a little older, a bit smarter than he pretended to be, but that might help him in the long run.

“You care more than the others. The other monitors would have booted her without any help. They would have been upset she was causing a scene and have her hauled out. They wouldn’t have made sure the dude who drank too much had a buddy who could get him home.”

“That was a good call, by the way.”

Jack had been the one to cut the guy off. It hadn’t gone well.

“I think he was about to pass out, but not before he did some damage. You were right to refuse to serve him.”

“I’m not supposed to, you know.”

Jack sighed.

“I already got a lecture about how as long as the card is processing, I should keep pouring.”

“I’ll talk to them,”

Jensen promised, though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He might be able to sway management if he could convince them they would get more attention than they wanted if something bad happened. A lawsuit would get eyes on the club, and that was the last thing they wanted.

“And that is why I say you’re different,”

Jack pointed out.

“It’s weird. No one else here seems to care what happens on the dungeon floor. I have to wonder if other clubs are like this. If you tell anyone I said this I’ll call you a liar, but when I did a bunch of research, I have to admit the philosophy behind this lifestyle kind of called to me.”

Jensen shook his head. He felt for the kid since he was in the same position. The philosophy—communication, asking for what a participant wanted, taking sexuality seriously—called to him, too. But he wouldn’t find that here.

“This isn’t a real club. You were right when you called it a tourist place. You need to think of this as a nightclub with a sex theme. There’s no real philosophy here.”

“But a nightclub doesn’t have…”

Jack stopped and sighed.

“I was about to say women don’t get smacked up at a nightclub, but we both know that’s not true. I wouldn’t use that word if it was a real club since consent would be at the heart of every interaction, but they let drunk people play.”

At The Hideout you can do one or the other. Drink hard or play hard. Trust me. There are times when you need to get wasted and hang with your friends, but that’s why we put the bar on the second level and toward the back. To delineate the space. And there’s always someone ready to set you on your ass if you get out of line. That’s what family does.

He wanted to be part of that family. Harlow’s carefully culled club family sounded perfect to a man who lost everyone except one friend. He wanted to sit in that bar and take care of her if she needed to shut her brain off for a little while, help his friends out because they counted on him.

“A real club restricts alcohol or any substance that makes consent questionable. If you’re interested in the lifestyle, there are a couple of places you could check out,”

Jensen offered. It fucking felt good to be helpful. So often lately all he felt was how he was dragging other people into his hell.

“Really? There are actual clubs here?”

Jack asked, his brow rising.

He looked so young and earnest. He reminded him of his brother, so clearly he couldn’t help himself.

“Yes. They’re quiet though. They don’t have a website or social media, but they’re there. You should check out a place called The Hideout.”

Jack went still as though listening carefully.

“The Hideout. I like the sound of that. Makes me think of a bunch of childhood friends starting a club. Damn. That makes me miss my hometown.”

“Where are you from?”

He wasn’t sure why, but he was interested. Or maybe he did know. Maybe he needed to form some kind of connection. Any kind.

“A small town outside of Austin,”

Jack explained.

“I grew up on a ranch, and let me tell you, when you’re from a ranching family, you get close to your siblings and your friends. You end up needing them to help out. A lot. My parents had blood family, but their friends were family, too. I learned a lot from them.”

“My grandfather had a ranch,”

Jensen admitted, remembering the home where he and Tommy grew up.

“Mom ended up selling most of the land, but I still have about a hundred acres west of Fort Worth.”

He had no idea what to do with it. The house was well built, and he’d maintained it. He guessed he always thought he would go back to it someday. Or it was just one more thing that got shoved aside and forgotten in his need for revenge.

“Ours is slightly bigger, but I was not meant for ranching life. I wanted to go to college and not to learn how to run a ranch.”

Jack smiled like the memories were sweet.

“Luckily my parents were okay with it, though I had to obviously figure out a way to pay for it. I have a couple of brothers who will happily take over once the…when the time comes. So The Hideout. Sounds like a place to be. If you could go there, why don’t you? You seem like a nice guy and not like Phil. I know he seems real nice on the outside, but he’s pretty brutal when it comes to the servers.”

“He is? I’ve never seen Phil be anything but pleasant.”

“Because you’re on a different level,”

Jack explained.

“And you’re a guy. He’s nice to me, too, but then I catch him threatening the female servers in the back room where no one can hear him.”

Damn it. He was not supposed to have to deal with the other employees. He had one job, and he was so close. He couldn’t get involved with this. When he took down Hamilton and his whole organization, those women would be safe.

“I’ll check it out.”

Who the hell was he? That was the question he’d been asking since the day he left Harlow in a prison cell, blowing up her case so his could keep going and she would be safe. Back then he’d told himself it was all about her safety, but did he have the right to make that choice for her?

“I appreciate it.”

Jack glanced down at his watch.

“I should get back to it.”

“Hey,”

Jensen called out as the bartender opened the door to the club.

“You know there are other jobs out there. You’re a smart kid. You can definitely do better than this place.”

Jack’s lips quirked up.

“Trust me. I tell myself that every day. I’ve got about a million applications out there, but until one of them hits, this pays the bills. Hey, I have a question. How did you hear about that Hideaway place?”

“The Hideout,”

Jensen corrected. The good news was he didn’t have to lie to a bartender who wasn’t anywhere close to the inner circle.

“I know someone who goes there. Well, I knew her. She’s something of an ex.”

“That sounds complicated.”

“It is,”

Jensen allowed.

“It was one of those right person/wrong place/wrong time things, but she taught me about the lifestyle. She grew up in it.”

“Grew up in it? I kind of thought it was all about sex, so that seems worrying. I don’t like the thought of kids being around that.”

There was a wealth of judgment in Jack’s tone.

Was this the shit Harlow and her family had to put up with? It rankled.

“It’s not. There doesn’t have to be sex involved at all. Her parents were in a D/s relationship and spent time in clubs. Obviously, they didn’t bring their daughters. They were kind of odd since her mom was…is married to twins.”

Jack whistled.

“Now that sounds freaky.”

Maybe he wasn’t as open minded as he seemed.

“Forget I mentioned that place. If you think it’s freaky, then you should stay away.”

“You don’t think two men and one woman sounds odd?”

Jack asked, his eyes narrowing as though the younger man was studying him.

“I’ve always heard it the other way myself. Most men I know would prefer two women taking care of them.”

“I never thought about it for me, but if it works for someone else, who cares? We spend way too much time worrying about what other people are doing. How the hell can anyone be happy if they’re constantly policing everyone else’s joy?”

The discussion was definitely riling him up. He needed to shut it down. This was precisely why he didn’t talk to anyone here. He did his fucking job and that was to move up through the ranks until he could get close to Hamilton. There was no place for friendship here.

“Like I said forget I mentioned it. It’s a real tight-knit group. They’re probably not taking applications.”

“Hey, I didn’t mean to offend. I was trying to understand,”

Jack said, holding the door open.

The sounds of the club pulsed through the door. It was time to get back to work. Later on he could text Niall via the burner he kept hidden and for five seconds feel close to the only two people in the world he cared about. He needed to remind himself of that fact. Harlow and Niall were the only people who mattered.

“No offense taken. Trust me. My family was perfectly normal. One man. One woman. When that one man took off with someone else, the one woman was left to raise two kids and found the real love of her life. Vodka. But hey, at least they were normal. You have a good night.”

“Jensen,”

Jack called out.

But he walked on. He had a job to do.