Purgatory

by Hayley Smyth

  Chapter Two

  Jax.

  The line for Vixen’s trawled along the sidewalk, hundreds of heads leaning around the rope that kept them close to the wall, peered over, hoping to see some movement up ahead. I skipped the line entirely, sauntering up to rope at the door and its guardian. Luca’s younger brother, Damien, welcomed me with a warm smile and a firm handshake. He was a huge guy. I stood at nearly six-five, but he towered over me. His biceps alone were bigger than both of mine put together; he was a perfect doorman for a club people would kill to spend the night.

  “Nice to see you, Murdoch. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you. Your old man working you hard?” He said as I walked across the threshold of the club where the music blasted.

  I slipped him a hundred, “Of course,” I smiled. “Is my girl in tonight?”

  Damien gave me a knowing grin, “She sure is, she’s got just over an hour before she’s due upstairs.” I nodded my thanks and headed farther into the club.

  The dark corridor was void of anything, giving away nothing to the unsuspecting eye. The elevator at the far end would take me downstairs to the club, and I pressed the button, my bones humming with anticipation for the night ahead. I wondered what the hell Carter was going to me; knowing him, it could have been anything. There was going to be no work talk, nothing serious, just a good fucking time.

  The elevator arrived. I stepped inside, hitting another button for the basement. Soft music played through the speaker as I traveled down. My father, the guys, Carter, and I may not have been clean-cut fellas by anyone’s standards, but shit, it wasn’t all bad, was it? I thought to myself. Not when you had exclusive access to places like this and women like Mindy.

  She worked at the club, had done since the place opened eleven years ago, and I was her first client. She’d never be wife material, my pops would have dropped dead if I’d ever dared to bring her home, and yet, I was drawn to her. I wasn’t sure if it was the strange European accent I couldn’t place, or the fact that could twist and bend like a goddamn pretzel, all I knew was that I couldn’t stay away. I’d visit her any chance I got, and it had been too long since I was last here, since I was last buried in her sinful pussy. She was like fucking magic, one night with her could erase more stress and tension than a night drinking, and snorting lines could do.

  My dick twitched just thinking about her.

  The door open at the bottom of the building, and I was greeted by pulsing lights, half-naked women dancing on the stage, and crowds of people dressed in their best. The atmosphere was always incredible. Luca had worked hard to get this place up and running just over a decade ago. In that time, he had brought it from seedy to exclusive, and as I eyed all the men in thousand dollar tuxes and women in sparkling dresses, I smiled for my buddy and how far he’d come. Vixen’s was also the one place Vladimir didn’t know existed. Sure, we worked for the guy, but we never knew if or when world war three would start between the families.

  For most of history, the Murdoch’s and Chrobak’s were enemies, only coming together in the last forty years or so. A short amount of time when you know Vlad’s ancestors arrived in America in the early 1900's. Tensions and trust issues were still apparent, and my family and I needed somewhere we could hide, should shit hit the fan.

  The whole place smelt of money. From the purple and silver decor, large C-shaped bar, and the drinks it held, to the customers, their fat wallets, and beautiful women were dancing no matter where you turned. My feet carried me through the club, rubbing shoulders with men I had come to know, more than a few stopped to shake my hand, their wives and mistresses placing air kisses on my cheek. The lights above lit up the sequins of their gowns, the diamonds in their ears, creating a light show of their own. Pushing my way through the crowds, I made a beeline for a bar.

  A pretty, raven-haired bartender stood wiping down the opulent glass top bar with a cloth, her eyes lighting up as she saw me walking in her direction. Sitting down on a barstool, I undid my suit jacket and hit her with the smile I knew could kill. She’d already made my drink and was sliding it across the bar before I’d settled.

  Her pearly whites flashed as she spoke, “Mr. Murdoch, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” Her Georgian accent was cute as hell, and I nodded, accepting the neat scotch she’d poured me.

  “Any idea where Carter is?” I asked, my eyes exploring the vast, busy space before me.

  Pretty thing smiled again and jabbed a finger over her shoulder, “He’s in one of the booths, sir. May I have a bottle of something brought over?”

  I knocked back my drink and stood. “Please, sweetheart.”

  Leaving the bar, I made my way towards the leather booths situated on the farthest side, and it didn’t take long for me to hear Amy’s excited voice over the music. When I spotted them, a stupid warm feeling erupted through my chest. My best buddy in the whole world, closely followed by my second, wrapped up in each other’s arms, looking happier than ever. I watched them for a moment. Carter swept Amy’s honey-blonde hair from her neck, and buried his face there, she laughed and shoved his arm as he told her a joke for her ears only.

  The three of us had been inseparable as teenagers. Amy came to town when a few days before her sixteenth birthday, and it was my pops’ party when I first had met her. Jesus, she was a whirlwind. A force to be reckoned with, I’d be lying if she hadn’t turned my head back then, more than once, and as I watched her and my friend, more in love than ever, I knew she got the better guy. They were fucking perfect together. People always wondered and asked if I ever felt like the third wheel, but we were a threesome. Not in that way, but we all knew our places, we each brought something to the trio, and fuck me, did we have some good memories.

  Amy’s eyes snapped open, her dazzling greens landing on me. Throwing her arms open, she pushed away from Carter and ran to me, throwing her arms around my neck. “Hey, stranger,” she said into my ear.

  Pulling away, I held her at arm’s length just as Carter got to his feet, “Yep, I can still see why he’s smitten, sweetheart.”

  Amy laughed, and Carter grabbed my hand to give it a friendly shake.

  The last week we’d been given different jobs, different towns and so, for the first time in a long damn time, we hadn’t seen much of each other. “Looking dapper, Jax,” my friend grinned, and I rolled my eyes.

  “As if I ever look anything but.”

  Together, we walked over to the booth, Carter and Amy sitting side by side, me sitting opposite them. The table was already laden with a concoction of different drinks. I took the bottle of scotch and poured myself a generous amount as we settled.

  “Where’s your lady of the night, then?” Amy asked, making a show of craning her neck to look around the club.

  “She’ll be here, don’t you worry,” I replied.

  Amy grinned, “I still don’t understand why you don’t just marry the damn woman.”

  Carter laughed over his drink, “That’d give his old man cardiac arrest babe. No, Jax deserves a ‘queen,’” he placed his glass down to air quote the word queen, “Nothing but class for our Jax,” he continued to mock, using my father’s words.

  “It’s 2020; surely he doesn’t still have such a massive stick up his ass?”

  Both carter and I laughed at that one before I answered, “Oh, he does. Archibald Murdoch is a square at heart. The dealing coke is just a front, darling.”

  We each grew silent as we sipped our drinks, it didn’t escape me that Amy, lover of all things alcoholic, was drinking orange juice. She never drank orange juice, and when her eyes met mine, she knew I was figuring out their little secret.

  Her greens grew wild with excitement, and then she was pulling Carter to her side. “So, Jax, we have a little something to tell you.”

  My back was rod straight as I waited for them to spit it out.

  They shared a glance at each other, and Amy’s voice penetrated the music blasting overhead. “How do you feel about changing your n
ame?” They both laughed, leaving me confused as fuck.

  “What? Fuck, spit it out, will you?” I grumbled, despite the muscles in my mouth desperately trying to create a smile.

  Carter spoke next, “We reckon ‘uncle’ Jax has a nice ring to it.” His smile was so fucking infectious as his worlds spiraled around my brain. Fuck me.

  “What?” I bellowed, getting to my feet, “No fucking way, Paulson!” I hurried to hug my best friend, our hands slapped each other’s back, and I never thought I’d be so fucking happy to hear the news of a baby before.

  “Way, man! She’s twelve weeks, look.” He reached into his suit, pulling out a grainy black and white photo, handing it to me, the smile never wavered from his face. “We got this today. Fucking amazing, right?”

  With one hand on the photo, my eyes studying the small image of a child very much wanted and longed for, I pulled Amy into my side and kissed her forehead. “Congratulations, sweetheart. You’re going to be a fucking amazing mother.”

  She swatted my arm and placed a protective hand against the tiny swell of her belly. “Hey, no swearing around infants.”

  Resuming our seats, Carter took the bottle of champagne from Pretty Thing, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the ultrasound photo. It was so clear you could see the little thing’s spine, the shape of its head, the outline of feet.

  I had to give it to Carter: he was a braver man than I. The thought of me ever reproducing filled me with a dread that left a bitter taste in my mouth. Carter had his fair share of problems, despite them though, and by the look on his goofy as shit face, I knew, with no uncertainty, that he was going to be a goddamn perfect father. His chance to show himself and the world that he wasn’t a carbon copy of his own.

  Carter’s father, Derek, was a mean sonofabitch with a penchant for younger girls, heroin, and a side of armed robbery.

  “Let’s make a toast,” I declared, pouring Carter and I some bubbly, and topping up Amy’s orange juice, “To Amy, Carter and this-” I waved the photo, “bundle of absolute fucking, sorry, joy. To a happy, healthy nine months!” We raised our glasses, and all took a drink. Fuck me; this night was getting better and better.

  Not long after Amy and Carter’s announcement, I felt the warmth of a body I knew very well slide up to me, dainty hands wrapping around my neck.

  Before I knew it, I had one delicious Mindy sitting sideways on my lap. “Hey, Murdoch,” she purred in an accent that should have been illegal. She looked incredible. She was working tonight, so she wore a barely-there gold bikini, her rosy red nipples visible beneath the thin material of her bra. She straddled my lap, turning her back on the couple opposite us, and as she opened her legs, my eyes flew between her thighs, where I could see the edges of her waxed pussy. Jesus. Her poker-straight, bleach-blonde hair was so long now it brushed against my knees as I held her to my chest, my hands gripping her ass.

  “Jesus Christ, Mind. You know how to drive a man to insanity,” I brushed the hair from her neck, sinking my teeth into her soft flesh, inhaling her familiar rosy scent. She laughed and pulled from me, taking the tequila from the table and swigging straight from the bottle.

  She shuddered then turned her head to face the couple still wrapped in each other’s arms. “So, what’s the occasion?”

  Carter and Amy looked over at us, and in unison, they said, “We’re pregnant!”

  Mindy screeched, jumping from my lap to run at the pair, wrapping her arms around the both of them.

  After lots of congratulations, questions about due dates, birth plans, and names, we all settled into the booth and shared stories over our drinks.

  It was nearing midnight when Amy dragged me to my feet, “Dance with me, Jax?”

  I threw a glance towards Carter, who laughed, “Bring her back in once piece, alright?”

  Amy’s fingers slipped between mine as she pulled me to the middle of the dance floor. Always the center for Amy, where she could have the most eyes on her. Her silver dress dipped low at the front, even lower at the back, and I shook my head, unable to fight the smile. For a woman, barely five feet, she was strong. The music changed to something softer, sexier, slower, and I groaned; dancing wasn’t my thing, and she knew it.

  “Relax, Jax. You look like you’ve stolen your dad’s stick,” she teased, her hands snaked up my chest, her hands in my hair, our bodies swaying in time to the beat around us.

  “Only for you, would I embarrass myself like this, you know that?” I asked.

  She nodded, “I know. Thank you. Carter is even more of a reluctant dancer than you are.”

  We were quiet for a moment, letting the pulse of the gentle guitar blow a bubble around us, enveloping us. Purple, blue, and pink lights danced across her face, setting her green eyes on fire.

  I let my finger trace the outline of her jaw, moving from her bare collarbone, down her ribcage, finishing on the slight bump of her belly. “I am so fucking happy for you guys,” I breathed, the mix of alcohol, baby news, and the few lines I’d snorted, creating an emotional tornado inside of me. Her eyes suddenly lost a bit of their glow, the spark we all knew so well, and I frowned, lifting her chin to look at me. “What’s up, darling?”

  Her eyes shimmered with tears, and she laughed, shaking her head. “Ugh, nothing. These damn hormones.” She laid her head on my chest, and I smoothed back her hair, our feet never moving, our hips in time with one another’s. It was a beautiful moment and a moment that told me just how things would change once this little one was here. I didn’t profess to be the most paternal of men, but even I knew that babies changed shit. I figured tonight, Amy’s need to be close to me, was our unspoken way of saying goodbye to our trio.

  “Do you ever think about it, Jax?” her voice asked, sending chills all over my skin.

  I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable, “No. And neither should you, okay?”

  She nodded, her hands gripping my shoulder blades, “I know, I don’t really.”

  Sighing, just as the music finished and its place was something far too upbeat for me, I pulled back and cupped her face between my hands. “Carter loves you. You love him. You’ve got this little one to think of now.”

  She looked me dead in the eye, searching me for answers I wouldn’t give her, and then she was on her tiptoes, placing the softest fucking kiss on my cheek. “Thanks for the dance, Jax. I’m going to go say goodnight to the old man, and then I’ll probably head home.” Amy didn’t wait for me to respond, she went and found Carter leaving me alone on the dance floor.

  When Amy had left, Carter and I took a seat at the front of the main stage, a thoughtful silence had settled over us, and we sipped our drinks, eyes on the girls dancing.

  My stomach muscles still ached from laughing, my cheeks were sore, and the alcohol was flowing through our veins.

  It was a little after one in the morning, and the club was still heaving with people, the more time that ticked by, the less clothes everyone seemed to be wearing.

  Mindy had left to start her shift in The Rooms. The second floor was home to ten bedrooms, where customers would pay to spend the evening with one (or two if they could afford it) of the girls. Mindy would be waiting for me. Knowing full well, I didn’t like to fucking share. What she did when I wasn’t here was her business, the woman had a living to earn after all, but the other customers were aware that she was mine on nights I visited Vixen’s.

  Carter nudged me, “You okay there, buddy?” His impeccable blond hair was now showing signs of a good night, his long bangs flopping in front of his eyes.

  I nodded, “I’m good.” I wasn’t. I had itchy fucking fever.

  He rolled his eyes, sipping on his drink, “You’ve been pining after her all goddamn night, Jax. Go and get your dick sucked for Chrissake’s, I’ll wait for you.”

  Grabbing my drink, I pushed my way to the back of the club, where another elevator was situated. The second floor was for exclusive members only, and the elevator would only work if you had a car
d you paid a grand a month for, it was well worth it.

  Luca had wanted a high profile sex club without the risk of troublemakers every weekend. Hence the extortionate price of membership, not including how much he charged per drink and at the door. Pussy was expensive these days, decent pussy anyways. He’d made a good call, and it weeded out the men he didn’t want in his club. Vixen’s had earned its place on the strip.

  The second floor was a stark contrast from the club below. Its walls were a soft pink with thick, cream carpets lining the floor of the corridor. Passing the rooms, you’d think you were in a hotel instead.

  I strolled down the hallway, drink in one hand, the other tugging on my tie. The heat from outside had followed me despite the air con buzzing overhead. Screams, moans of pleasure, and groans of pain echoed throughout the open space, teasing my dick of all that was to come, just what I needed.

  A man, pushing forty, his belly pushing forty inches, exited one room, the room opposite Mindy’s, and I froze, waiting to see what he did next.

  With a chubby fist, he rushed Mindy’s door, pounding his knuckles on the wood, his shiny shoes kicking at it. “Mindy, open the goddamn fucking door!”

  I laughed under my breath. He had chosen the wrong night and the wrong time to kick off.

  Still ambling, watching his fat face grow more crimson with each curse, with each thumb against the door, I placed my empty glass on a small table and cracked my neck from side to side. Too wrapped up in his vendetta that he never saw me coming.

  “Mindy, I swear to God, woman. I know where you fucking live. Do you think I don’t know you stole from me? You’re all the goddamn same, fucking whores!” he bellowed, and as I stepped closer, I recognized him. A relatively new client of Vladimir’s, Petey, or some shit, he’d begged for months to try some of our brand. Jumped through fucking hoops, and now, well, I’d be revoking that privilege.

  The floorboard underfoot creaked, alerting him to my presence, and his beady fucking eyes widened in horror when he saw who was approaching. “Jax, I didn’t see you there,” spider veins, purple and red, crawled over his cheeks as panic captured him.