Viewing Room

by L. P. Dover

  “I told you, I’m fine,” he growls. “I need to talk to the police.”

  Then I hear a woman, her voice gentle. “You need to relax, Mr. Miles. The police will be here in a few hours to ask you questions.”

  I burst through the door and the nurse jerks her head my way. She’s a woman about my age, her brown hair pulled high and she’s pregnant with tired green eyes. I can’t see Hunter, but at least I know he’s okay.

  “Can I help you?” she asks, her voice tired.

  When she steps out of the way, that’s when I see him. His face is bruised and he has dried blood caked on the left side of his face, but overall, he looks okay. I breathe a sigh of relief. His eyes widen when he sees me and then he hisses in pain and grabs his side.

  “Kennedy,” he murmurs.

  “What happened to him?”

  The nurse checks his vitals. “A concussion and two broken ribs. He should be perfectly fine in a couple of weeks.” After she’s done, she walks toward the door. “I’ll be just around the corner.”

  Once she’s gone, Hunter tries to get up, but I hold up my hands. “Stop,” I snap. I want to go to him, but there are so many emotions warring inside my body. My heart aches for him and I know he’s in pain, but knowing what he could’ve been doing in the bondage room infuriates me. “Why were you in the bondage room?”

  His eyes blaze and he shakes his head. “It’s not what it looks like, Kennedy. You know I would never hurt you.”

  “Then why were you in there?” My hands shake and so does my voice. “Are you that willing to screw up everything we have on your pride?”

  His jaw clenches. “I wasn’t going to go through with it. I swear to fucking God, I wasn’t. When I saw my name on the schedule, I knew what I had to do. I was two seconds away from quitting it all but then I heard his voice.”

  His words catch me off guard. “His voice? What the hell are you talking about?”

  He huffs. “Chad. He’s the one who left the bomb. He intentionally requested me so he could fucking kill me.”

  My knees grow weak and I fall into the chair beside him. “Are you sure it was him?”

  He grabs my hand, his battered face more serious than ever. “I’m positive. I heard his voice, Kennedy. Before, at the club, he said we would pay. We have to tell the police before he comes after you. I’ll kill the fucker before he ever lays a hand on you.”

  Holding his hand, I bring it up to my face. “They’re probably already going after him. If he was booked in the bondage room, it’ll be in the system. He’s most likely being questioned as we speak.”

  Hunter shakes his head. “He’s smart, Kennedy. Whatever happens, he’ll find his way out of this and come after us again.”

  I’m not going to let that happen. As soon as the police arrive, I’m going to tell them everything. “I don’t want to think about that right now,” I whisper, running a finger lightly down his bruised cheek. I could’ve lost him tonight. Tears stream down my cheeks, and for the first time in my life, I let everything out. “I’m so sorry,” I cry.

  His voice softens. “For what?”

  I wipe away the tears. “For everything. All this time, you’ve told me how you felt about me and I’ve been too scared to voice mine. It took you getting hurt to make me see.”

  His brows furrow. “Make you see what?”

  I pause for a second and suck in a breath, letting it out slow. “That I love you. I was so afraid I was going to be too late to tell you that.”

  He brushes the hair off my face. “I know you love me, Kennedy. In time, I knew you’d tell me. I wasn’t going to push you.” His brown gaze bores into mine. “And you know I love you, too. That’s why I’m done with the club. I know it hurts you when I’m there.”

  A small smile spreads across my cheeks. “Does that mean you’ll work for me now?”

  “No,” he murmurs. “Not until I’ve earned it. I’m not going to let you pay my way. I’ll figure out something. Right now, I just need you here. That way I know you’re safe.”

  He pats the bed and moves over, his teeth clenched from the pain. I gently climb into bed with him and snuggle against him, terrified I’m going to hurt him. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, Hunter. I’m right here.” We lay there and all I can think about is how I’m going to make Chad pay. He’s not going to get away with this.

  “How did your grandmother take the news?” I ask, grabbing Hunter a bottle of water out of the refrigerator. After the club bombing, it’s been all over the news, but luckily, his grandmother never watches it. It made it easy to lie and say he was in a car accident.

  He chuckles but there’s no humor in it. “She was upset, but I told her I’m okay. I’m just glad she doesn't know the truth. She’ll worry herself to death."

  Giving him the bottle of water, I sit beside him. “Have you talked to the club owner?”

  “Not yet,” he replies with a sigh. “He called while you were at the office to see if I was okay. For now, the club’s closed for a while.”

  I can’t help but be happy about that. I’ve wanted him away from that place for so long. Hunter turns his body to me and rubs my hands with his thumbs. It’s been three days since the explosion and I’m shocked at how well he’s moved around. You would never guess he has two broken ribs.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Not really. I’m ready to find out if they have the cocksucker in custody.”

  We were told we’d get a phone call today, but so far, nothing’s come through. I’m officially Hunter’s lawyer in the matter so whatever happens, I’ll be right there. So far, there’s been no talk of anything on the news, no motives, or suspects. It’s like it’s all been kept under wraps.

  My phone rings and I recognize the number immediately; it’s Detective Van Bryant, the man who interviewed Hunter and who I spoke to about Chad and Jennifer’s court case. He’s also a friend of my parents. “Kennedy Vaughn,” I answer, putting it on speakerphone so Hunter can hear.

  “Good evening, Ms. Vaughn. It’s Detective Van Bryant.”

  “Yes, I know. Is there anything new on the case?”

  He releases a heavy sigh. “There is, but first, I’m calling to let you know Mr. Bates was nowhere near Society X the night of the explosion. He has an alibi putting him at home. Witnesses can confirm his whereabouts.”

  “They’re lying,” I snap angrily.

  Hunter slams his fists down on the couch. “That motherfucker.”

  “We’re still investigating, but you should know we found other evidence that could change things. According to the club documents, there was a man who requested Hunter for the bondage room. His name is Freddie Grant. Our men are bringing him in now for questioning.”

  “Freddie Grant?” I turn to Hunter. “Know anyone by that name?”

  Brows furrowed, he shakes his head. “No.”

  “He’ll be here soon, and hopefully, we’ll get some answers.”

  “What I want to know is how he got the bomb in there in the first place. Security is really tight there.”

  “Christy Mathers would’ve been his escort,” Hunter informs him. “Has anyone questioned her?”

  The line goes silent for a second. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miles, but she didn’t make it. She died at the hospital from her injuries. We’re all wondering how he was able to slip it in under her nose.”

  Hunter’s face pales and he closes his eyes. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

  “Her family’s been notified,” the detective says. “And as soon as we get more information, I’ll let you both know. For now, just be aware Mr. Bates is not a suspect in this case. I know he threatened you, but there’s no evidence pinning him at the scene of the crime.”

  “Thanks, Detective.” We hang up and anger boils in my veins. There is no way in hell I’m going to believe Chad’s alibi.

  If I never break another rib it’ll be too soon, not that it’s changed my lifestyle much. I can still make love to Kennedy
, although she’s doing most of the work. In fact, I think I like the way things have been going lately. At first, she thought I needed to heal and was trying to baby me at night. She didn’t realize that I’d get better being inside of her. When I finally convinced her that we could have sex as long as she was on top, she was game.

  Driving is a fucking bitch though. Turning corners or switching lanes of traffic is a damn nightmare and I’m legit the old man driving in the slow lane right now. I’m on my way to Ward Enterprises to meet with Bryce Adams, the owner of Society X. Apparently this will be his temporary office while the club is being rebuilt. Must be fucking nice, I think to myself as I pull into the underground garage. Even reaching for a parking ticket is fucking painful. You’d think the man in the booth would help a brother out, but nope. He’s just sitting there, staring straight ahead like the zombie apocalypse is about to start.

  “Thanks for the help,” I yell out once I have my ticket. The fucker has the nerve to tell me I’m welcome. I must’ve missed where he got off his stool to help me out.

  Once my car is parked I make my way back outside. Ward Enterprises is not only a massive building, but also one with the highest level of security. The underground garage doesn’t even go under the building, but off to the side where the courtyard is, protecting it from would be bombers who use their cars as bombs.

  The steps to the building loom before me. They’re wider than normal, which for a woman is great because they tend to take smaller steps, but us men have longer strides unless you’re me and you can’t move very well. I’ll be sure to thank Bryce for this one.

  After checking in at security, I’m given a badge and scanned before I’m allowed to get onto the elevator. I press the button that will take me to Ward Enterprises and go over what I’m going to say to Bryce. Telling him that I’m quitting will be easy, but I have no idea what he’s going to ask me about that night. I know he’s pissed. I don’t fucking blame him. He has stellar security and one of his employees fucked it all up.

  “Hi, I’m here to see Bryce Adams,” I inform the woman behind the large semi-circle desk with the headset on.

  “Mr. Miles, you may go in. Mr. Adams is on the right hand side, three doors down.”

  I knock on the door and wait for Bryce to tell me to enter which he does immediately. The one thing I know about him is that he’s very private so barging in on him would be highly frowned upon. Not that I plan to use him for a reference unless I go back to stripping.

  “Hunter, please have a seat.” He points at the chair in front of his desk, which I gingerly take. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore.”

  In my back pocket is the bill from the hospital that Kennedy was able to get for me. With no insurance, I’m responsible for it all. The ambulance ride alone was over a grand.

  “Indeed. I think you were one of the lucky ones.”

  I nod and let out a strangled breath. It even hurts to breathe when I’m sitting. “Depends on how you define lucky.”

  “You’re not dead,” he states matter-of-factly.

  “Well yes, I’m not dead.”

  Bryce doesn’t show any emotion whatsoever as he stares me down. I’m getting the feeling that I’m the enemy here and not Chad Bates, who was in the room with me before the bomb went off. I’m starting to think I should’ve brought Kennedy with me.

  “Do you remember much of that night?”

  “I remember it all. What do you want to know?”

  “Why did you leave the bondage room?”

  I try to adjust, but the attempt is futile, everything hurts. “That night I saw my name on the board for the bondage room and subsequently for the viewing room. I went to Jared to ask about the booking, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. I didn’t want to do it.”

  “But it’s your job.”

  “I know. I heard a crashing noise come from the room so I opened the door to make sure whoever was in there was okay. At that point, I was going to apologize to the client and let them know I wouldn’t be able to perform with them.”

  “Did your dick fall off prior to the accident?”

  I look at him warily. “No, my dick is fully attached and functioning.”

  “So you were going to tell my client, who pays a hefty monthly fee, that you weren’t going to perform for them? And then what?”

  “Then I was going to find you and let you know that I quit.”

  “You were going to quit?” He almost sounds shocked.

  “Yes, I am still. I’m quitting.” I realize I should’ve given him my medical bills before I dropped that bomb.

  “You can’t quit, you’re one of my best dancers.”

  I sigh and press my hand against my ribs. “With all due respect, I enjoyed my job, at times I even loved my job, but I met someone and she’s important.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Bryce laughs as if he’s plotting my demise. “Let me get this straight. You can have all you can eat pussy and you’re cashing it out for a cunt your dick already knows?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Unbelievable.”

  “If it helps you process my reasoning, I’m in love with her.”

  He dismisses me with the wave of his hand. I leave out the part where I met Kennedy at the club. I don’t want him to think I broke any rules and even though she had me in the viewing room three times, he doesn’t need to know.

  “So you’re quitting, great. Let’s get back to the bomb. You were in the room?”

  “Right, I opened it to check on the client because of the noise I heard. I flicked the light switch but nothing happened and that is when I heard a male voice telling me that he was my worst enemy.”

  Bryce shuffles some papers on his desk. “Freddie Grant?”

  I shake my head. “The voice belonged to Chad Bates.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I met him a few weeks back in the parking lot. He accused me of fucking his wife.”

  “Are you? Did you?”

  “No, that is not my girlfriend’s name.”

  “Did you fuck his wife in one of the rooms? Or outside of the club?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know. Not recently,” I tell him even though I know the answer to be without a doubt no. Retaining attorney client privileges is a fucking bitch. I really want to tell him that Jennifer is a client of the firm’s, but I can’t.

  “So why’s he after you?”

  Because he’s fucking nuts. “I’m not sure. Don’t you have the police report from Van Bryant?” If he did, he’d know the answer because Kennedy told the police everything.

  “No, I’m conducting my own investigation. It’s easier this way. I’m not keen on giving the police my client records, especially since I pride myself on everything being anonymous at the club. You know if this man's wife is being fucked on the inside that is really between them. I don’t expect my staff to tell anyone.”

  “We don’t know names anyway,” I point out.

  “True. How many dealings did you have with Christy?”

  “Not many.”

  “According to her phone, you booked the viewing room with her to watch.”

  Fuck. I didn’t think about that. I swallow hard and nod. “Yes, my girlfriend and I wanted to explore.”

  “She knows you worked at the club?”

  “Yeah, she knows.”

  “Maybe she’s jealous of you screwing other women and she planted the bomb?”

  While his thinking could be spot on, he’s forgetting that Jared would’ve had to be the one involved.

  “You’d have to ask Jared, he was her contact.”

  “Interesting.” He continues to read over his papers. “So, she’s not the jealous type?”

  Yes, she is, but she’s not a killer. “No, she rather enjoys getting fucked by me, definite perk of screwing someone who does it professionally.”

  He has a wicked grin on his face while my stomach rolls. This man probably fucks half the staff and c
lientele and never thinks twice about it.

  “I should give these to you.” I slowly reach for the bills and set them on his desk. He picks them up and inspects them without saying much.

  “Whatever else comes in, have them sent my way.” He says this without looking at me. Reaching into his drawer, Bryce pulls out a check. “This is your severance since the club is closed.”

  I take the check and my eyes bug out. “Wow, thank you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I know it won’t cover everything, but I hope it helps. The club will be closed for remodeling and even though you’re quitting, it’s yours.”

  “Thanks. What are going to do with the room?”

  He shrugs and kicks back in his chair. “It’s the least popular of the rooms so I’m thinking of changing it to a playroom. It’ll be a mix of the dark room and viewing room, but more one-on-one and all fantasy play.”

  “That’s cool,” I reply, not knowing what else to say to him.

  “Right. So if you and your girlfriend ever want to play, you know where to go.” He winks and I take that as my cue to exit. Thing is, if Kennedy and I want to play, we’ll do it at home and save the two thousand a month in membership fees.

  I make my way out of his office and back to my car without incident, checking every few seconds to make sure my check is still in my pocket. That check alone is enough to get me through the rest of the semester with the hope that I’ll be hired on either at Kennedy’s firm or elsewhere.

  The drive back takes forever. Rush hour traffic over the bridge keeps us gridlocked on the interstate. Each car I pass, or that passes me has me looking to see if Chad is driving. That fucker is getting away with murder and needs to pay. Except our hands are tied. His shoddy friends offered up an alibi and it’s my word against his. If we could get him in front of a line-up, I’d be able to point my finger at him simply by his voice. I’ll never forget it.

  Instead of going home, I head to the office. I still have a few days of recovery until I’m allowed back at work. These two weeks since the accident have been tortuous. Kennedy goes to work, doesn’t come home for a quickie at lunchtime, and walks in well after closing. Most of the time she finds me in the kitchen with my shorts around my ankles and my cock in my hand, stroking it for her.