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“You’re offering me the job? Already?”

“Like I said, nobody else has applied, and we’re desperate. Plus, you remind me a lot of myself. I think I had that exact same expression on my face the first night I walked into this bar. But it feels like home now.”

I bit my lip. “You seem really lovely, and I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think sex clubs are my thing—”

Bliss’s face fell. “Don’t say no! Not yet. Just come to a party. See how you like it. And this…” She grabbed a pen from a pocket of her baby bag and flipped over one of the cardboard coasters with the Psychos logo in the middle. “This is the starting salary. Totally negotiable. Hours are mostly nights, so you could still do your cleaning job during the day if you wanted to.”

I glanced down at the coaster, and my eyes got big. “Is this a joke?”

She smiled hopefully at me. “Just come to party night on Friday. See if you like it. If it’s not your vibe, then you can walk away.”

The dollar figure on the card was too much to walk away from, so I told Bliss I would see what it was all about.

I did not tell her that if I took the job, I’d probably be the only virgin in the world who worked at a sex club.

14

LEVI

Days passed by in a blur on the outside. The scab on my tattoo had healed, and yet I still hadn’t had any luck finding a job. Without one, I couldn’t get a place to live either.

The halfway house got fuller and fuller by the day; every bed spoken for. The lines for the bathroom were insane, and tempers were quickly fraying with so many men living on top of each other.

If I had to hear Boyd snuffling in his sleep for one more night, I was sure I was going to stab him. It had gotten so bad I’d started planning his death out while I stared at the ceiling unable to sleep, my brain mulling over whether it would be safe to bury his body with those of the men whose lives I’d taken because my club had demanded it.

In the downstairs communal room, I tried reading a book from the floor-to-ceiling shelves that lined the space, while Boyd and another guy played pool. I wasbarely through a chapter when three other men sauntered in like they owned the place.

The guy playing with Boyd took one look at the newcomers, put his cue down, and left the room.

I clenched my jaw, recognizing the tallest of them and not surprised at Boyd’s friend’s reaction.

Adam Dickson stared back at me, the shit “27” prison tattoo on his neck marking him a member of the gang he’d created inside the walls of the prison we’d shared. The other men with him all wore the same tattoo in the same spot, identifying them as members of the 27s, the gang not so creatively named after the cell block number Dickson had been assigned.

Dickson picked up the abandoned pool cue and took over where Boyd’s friend had left off.

Not intimidated by Dickson’s show, I went back to my book.

But of course, Dickson and his crew wanted attention. The noise in the room ratcheted up instantly, with a mixture of their voices and the crack of balls against balls.

Every shot Boyd missed; Dickson laughed at. An obnoxious snort, followed by commentary of what a shit player Boyd was.

I eyed him, noting the tense set of his jaw. Boyd was a shorter guy, not much built for fighting, and Dickson was, true to his name, a dick. He was clearly the sort of man who made himself feel big by putting others down.

“Fuck me, Boyd. My ninety-year-old great aunt could hit a ball better than you, and she’s so hunchbacked can’t even see over the table!”

When Boyd didn’t respond, he added on, “S’pose you can’t really either, though, can you?”

Boyd walked past me, fingers clenching around his pool cue.

“Let it go,” I murmured to him.

He rolled his head and gave me a slight nod.

I tried to go back to my book again, but Dickson clearly didn’t know when to shut up.

“You know, I fucked a woman on a pool table once.” He sniggered in Boyd’s direction. “She looked a lot like that photo of your wife stuck to your headboard.” He stroked his beard. “Actually, maybe it was your wife. She got a big booty and a tight pussy?”

“Shut up, man,” I interjected before Boyd could react. “Why you trying to start shit?”