by K. J. Dahlen
Spotlights cut through the darkness and beamed down onto the empty dancer’s stage at the far end of the room beside the bar; upon it stood a lonely stripper’s pole. Both the dancer’s stage and the musician’s stage looked as though they’d been constructed out of wine crates or some similarly cheap or free material.
Everything about the club made me instantly suspicious. It was obviously a front for Viper’s drug cartel. It wasn’t just the stages that were cheap… I could tell, even in the low lighting of the place that all the furniture was dusty and scratched up. I’d been in enough strip joints in my youth to know when it was a front and there was no doubt about this one…no more than two male customers in the place, sloppy untrained dancers and terrible music.
Why in the world would Viper bring us here? She was hardly making a very good first impression. My next thought was that perhaps first impressions didn’t mean anything to her, judging by how hostile and dismissive she’d acted toward me so far. What the fuck was that woman’s problem?
I stood in the middle of the room, and with no sign of Viper or Bruno, I looked for somewhere to sit. Red, leather couched booths sat around the perimeter of two sides of the room. They appeared to be ‘reserved for VIP customers only’ or so the signs said on the wooden ends of the couches. I started to head over to take a seat in the booth in the corner.
One girl hurried over to me and pulled back the rope barrier that separated the booth from the rest of the club. “How’s it going?” she asked in a thick southern accent.
“You’re out of luck. I didn’t bring any money with me,” I replied flatly.
As expected, she walked off looking bitterly disappointed.
I sat down and looked toward the bar. The countertop ran along the far wall, and a male bartender in his thirties stood behind it looking bored. What a fucking waste of time this was. A single candle sat on my table, as though somebody had taken a half-assed stand to try to liven the place up a bit.
“ARGHHH!” one woman grunted while performing stretches to my right.
The dancers started to huddle and murmur to each other as they glanced over at me from fifteen feet away.
I didn’t want to look at them. I was here on business, and I had Chloe at home.
The next girl who approached me was dressed differently than the others, a black vest top on with huge tits and an ass that spilled out of her tight belt-like skirt. She offered me a drink from a tray of tequila shots but I declined.
At this point, most of the women stopped staring at me so intensely, realizing I wasn’t parting ways with any money tonight. They lost interest like vultures realizing there was no meat left on the kill.
They all ignored me from then on, except one.
A girl who had just stepped onto the stage and she looked at me. Really looked at me.
Fuck this. I wasn’t getting involved in this shit. Ignoring the girl, I glanced at my watch. It was 10pm.
My unease at the situation vanished and was replaced with seething anger. If the Viper wanted to talk business then she damn well should’ve had enough respect to take us to a proper office, and if she wanted me here then why the fuck had she vanished with Bruno?
I reached into my pocket to call Bruno and stood up to make my way outside, so I could call him. If Viper didn’t show herself, I would be gone – just as soon as I knew Bruno was okay.
Just as I was about to ask somebody where Bruno and Viper had gone so I could tell Bruno we were getting the hell out of here, the sound of the music dimmed mid song. A warm, friendly voice said, “There you are!” Viper exclaimed, absolutely beaming, as though I was her best friend. “Bruno….Jax… you need to meet someone!”
The woman made no sense to me. So totally bizarre. I had to wonder if she was using her own product. If that was the case, I wanted nothing to do with her. I don’t deal with junkies. Even though she’d finally acknowledged me, she still kept her distance from the other side of Bruno. I had no respect for somebody like this. I was ready to give the Viper the message that she could go fuck herself and her stupid strip club when she said with a gesture of her hand toward somebody a couple of tables away from me, “Boys, meet my main man, the Ghost.”
I swung my gaze over, following her pointing.
The light from the candle on his table flickered on his darkened face. I had completely missed him in my survey of the room. “How’s it going,” a deep, husky voice asked. The dark figure raised his glass at Bruno. His greeting was more of a comment rather than a question. From what I could tell, he didn’t care one way or the other how it was going.
We moved over to his table. “Where the fuck did you go?” I whispered to Bruno.
“She didn’t want to talk to you, so I just had to convince her. We need their help so just sit down and nod along,” Bruno whispered in my ear from next to me.
The three of us settled in seats at his table. I didn’t even give Viper a second glance when she sat down beside Bruno. What was the fucking point?
“I hear you want to do business with us. Why would you want that when your rep around here says something different?” the Ghost asked in a hushed tone.
Bruno pulled in his chair closer to the table and leaned forward. Shrugging he commented, “Maybe it’s just the right time for us to do something different. I want to retire soon and I need to set something up for the club to go on without me. Younger minds want something different or some shit like that.”
I scooted my chair in and gazed across at the man; what I saw shocked me. The Ghost looked like he didn’t just trade drugs, but was using himself. His blue checkered shirt blocked any evidence of track marks down his arms but he looked about fifteen pounds underweight, like Viper, and his eyes were sallow and dull.
The man’s clothes seemed as though they hadn’t been washed or ironed in a week, and he wore what looked like Michelle Pfeiffer’s leather Jacket from Dangerous Minds over his skinny body. We stared at each other, both sizing the other up. I was at least three times his size but there was no fear in his eyes. He was hard looking with the cold eyes of a killer. He had scars all over the place and a deep laceration on his jaw.
“I can fix that,” he said with and nod of his head. What he said next told me this bastard had about as much respect for me as the bitch that sat beside Bruno did, “If your people can’t make things right, I’ll sort it for you, Bruno,” the man said, eyeing me up and down.
Bruno gave the man a stare of contempt in warning. “Jax is my best man,” he said, his voice cold and firm. “This is Jaxson. Jaxson Coltrane. He’s the brains behind our operations and the new President of the Black Devils,” he declared, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back in his chair.
Very slowly, the Ghost gave me a small nod of approval.
“Pleasure,” I said – insincerely ‒ as I held out my hand to meet his.
The man hesitated as he looked at me suspiciously before grabbing my hand briefly and letting go half a second later as Viper had when I met her.
I gave Bruno a sideways look but he didn’t acknowledge it.
“The Ghost has got operations running all over the US,” Viper declared. “Sixteen isn’t it?”
“About twenty,” he corrected. The man shrugged in a faux modestly “Apparently, I’ve got a knack for what I do.”
“So what do you want from us?” I asked, abruptly.
Viper’s gaze turned toward the Ghost.
He paused for a beat before explaining, “Ok, here’s the deal.” He took a breath. “There’s a high demand for marijuana and cocaine in Tijuana and Coronado. I import the stuff directly from Mexico with the help of Santiago Escobar, the Mexican Drug Lord,” he said, all business. “I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”
I didn’t respond.
Bruno nodded. “I don’t want my club on the wrong side of that man, so let’s get one thing clear… Santiago hears nothing of this, understood?” Bruno cautioned.
The man smirked and gave Bruno a nod of his
head. “You have my upmost discretion.”
Bruno and Viper gazed at each other and she gave Bruno a nod.
As I watched the candlelight flicker and flash across the Vipers sunglasses, I wondered again, why she still wore them. Like our clubhouse, there wasn’t any sun in here. I’d thought it was to protect herself in case a deal went bad, as I had thought before. Now, I thought perhaps it was because she’d had some terrible accident. Was she disfigured in a job that went sour? Even her hair looked fake as fuck, up close. It only made me even more distinctly uncomfortable about allowing my brothers’ to work with somebody like this. Those men were my family. And I don’t put family in danger. If anything happened to my boys, I would hold myself accountable.
The Ghost interrupted the weighty silence, “What we need is transport. Your guys provide safe transport of our goods and we’ll get you everything you need in return to get started.” He gave another smirk. “After that, we deliver and take a cut of the action. But understand this, this is a business and we will conduct it as such. If you don’t try to rip me off, we can do business for a long and profitable time. If you try to rip me off, we will have a problem and I do so hate problems. Don’t you?”
His last words were little more than a threat. He knew it and so did we.
I could feel Bruno stiffen in outrage and I knew I had to defuse a problem before it got out of hand. “How much are we talking about here?” I asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction. I needed to be certain that Bruno and I had full control over the quantity of drugs we would be trafficking into our town.
“Not a lot. Like fifty kilos. It’s more about us establishing your…good faith.”
My blood ran hot; I didn’t like the implication. If I knew my street math that was a hundred pounds of poison. It was blindingly clear that the cartel wanted to use this job as a trial run for future operations. My club was never getting involved with a drug cartel long term. I pulled out my phone and began taking notes.
Bruno gave a nod of his head at the man but I knew what he was doing. He would take what he needed from the drug cartel and then cut all ties.
“Fifty?” I asked, “Do I have your strict assurance that we will traffic no more than that into my town?”
The man nodded his head. “You have my word.”
Bruno cleared his throat. “While we’re negotiating terms, we also have a mark we need taken care of. I hear you’re the best trackers in the business,” he said with a glance at Viper.
She gave the first, and last, smile she would ever crack in my presence jumping at the chance to show off, “The very best. We—”
“I’ll put Jumper in the ground, don’t you worry about that,” the Ghost interrupted with an unnerving look in his eyes, the little muscle in his jaw ticking with suppressed emotion. “He’s been a thorn in my side for years anyway.”
His words hung heavy in the air.
I shot a glance at Viper. Did Bruno already tell her it was Jumper we needed to get rid of?
Her fingers on her right hand had been in constant motion for this entire meeting, gently tapping on the table and fiddling with her coaster. She put her hand to her mouth, as though in deep thought. “I’ll leave you two to talk,” she said, apparently addressing myself and the Ghost. “I’ve got some matters of business discuss with Bruno, now,” Viper said, getting to her feet and heading away from the table without another word to me for an added measure of disrespect.
Both Bruno and I stood up. “Anything that impacts my club business I need to hear about,” I protested.
“Ten minutes, Jax,” Bruno stated.
I nodded and sat back down.
Bruno followed the bitch through a door that said “STAFF ONLY” beside the gentleman’s toilets. Ten seconds later two girls came out, half-dressed as though Viper had just thrown them out. Another tried to enter a moment later but the door hand been locked.
When I turned back to face the ‘Ghost’ he had gotten up, a cigarette in his mouth, lighting it as he crossed the room toward the exit door.
I grunted in disgust. Charming.
The music from the bland reared back up from directly behind me. I got up from the table too and walked over to the booth with comfortable seats nearest the door, inadvertently placing myself directly facing the twenty-something that was still on the dancer’s stage that had been giving me the eye before.
The bartender brought me over a scotch. “On the house. If you’re a friend of the Viper, you’re always welcomed here,” he said with a smile.
“Thanks,” I replied.
“You like her?” he asked with a grin, as we both looked over at the girl.
“Nah, I’m tied down and happy about it,” I responded.
“Fifty dollars a night and Sasha will give you anything. I swear. Anything. She’s incredible.”
“I’ll think about, thanks,” I replied vaguely. Chloe was my girl and she gave me everything.
He gave me a nod, turned on his heels and strode back toward the bar.
I sipped the scotch as I glanced over at her and the other dancers politely. Sasha was looking me straight in the eye as she stretched her arms in the air waiting for the next song to begin. She was a beautiful girl, but no Chloe.
Two other girls climbed up onto the stage. She said something to the other two and they promptly ditched her. As the next song started, the spotlights on the girl dimmed. I peered toward the woman to get a look at her.
Ten more minutes and I’ll return Dino’s call outside and get the hell out of here.
The tune kicked off and the spotlights beamed onto her body. The contours of her body were illuminated in the lights and she held out her arms again and lifted them above her head, making the stage her own before moving her body time with the music. It was entertaining but it was all too sloppy, too overdone to turn me on.
The music picked up, as she stood in the center of the stage and bit by bit, she edged the side straps of her G string down, and then up again.
“Take it off. Take it off,” the two other guys in the place hooted drunkenly.
She ignored them and turned her back to her thin audience with a flick of her platinum curled hair as she grabbed hold of the pole directly behind her. She twisted and contorted her body around it and rolled her head back as she hung from it ‒ completely letting go, like the tune was stirring something deep within her.
I shouldn’t have been watching her with Chloe at home but I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of her. It was memorizing. I also felt oddly sorry for her, putting in so much effort for so little attention.
“Oooo that’s it, girl. Take it home Sasha,” the lead vocalist called out on his mic.
Gradually, she ramped up her dance, circling the pole faster and spinning down to the ground onto her knees. She crawled to the front of the stage as she beckoned me with her finger making it abundantly clear that it was me that she wanted. I paused. What the fuck was I doing? I slid my cell out of my jean’s pocket and turned on my phone to call Dino. I should have left at that point.
When it was clear I wasn’t about to move from my seat to join her on the stage, she sat back on her heels, dropped her back to the ground like one of those contortionists, before thrusting her hips upward in a desperate and overzealous movement for my approval.
Unfortunately for her, the move instantly made me envision a Jane Fonda workout my mother used to do in our living room as a kid, effectively pulling the plug on my minute of almost fun.
As the song concluded, she plunged down into a split and threw her arms in the air. Her friends and the two drunks clapped as she did a mock curtsy before hurrying down the steps at the side of the stage into the darkness. Just when I thought I was safe, she appeared near the front of the stage and made a beeline for my table.
As she advanced toward me, she shimmied her shoulders again and the two other men hooted, imitating her dance with their shoulders in what they thought was the same movement before holding their beers up to me.
I decided to leave and stood up but she swooped in, leapt onto my lap and threw her arms around my neck. Up close, her body was warm and her makeup was clotted on her face. Fake tan streaked over her arms. She plastered my neck with giddy, emotional kisses as though she’d met the love of her life after being separated for years.
I tried to pull away from her lips but couldn’t get far enough away to make her stop.
“Whew what a buzz! You liked it? You liked my dance?” Sasha asked, pulling back from my neck to look at me. Her warm breath in my face.
“You looked lovely,” I remarked, politely. My phone vibrated in my pocket but I couldn’t look at it with the girl on my lap.
A burst of music started up again from the band but she didn’t move. Her hand wrapped around my cock and it twitched in her hands.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
“I’m seeing someone, honey.” I shuffled back in my seat as far as I could.
Slowly, she let go – but she didn’t give up. She picked up my drink and took a sip from the glass. She smiled, leaned in to me, took a breath, and inhaled me into her lungs, before kissing my neck one more time. “She’s a lucky girl.” She reached her fingers out to my chest, and stroked my collarbone wither finger.
“What do you do in the day?” I asked.
“I’m a dancer,” she replied. “And an actress,” she added.
“Oh? Anything I’ve seen?”
She smirked but didn’t answer.
The music was getting louder, obnoxiously so, and I couldn’t even hear myself talk or think. This was worse than the bikers bar back home. “Hold on a sec, honey,” I said, shoving her near bare ass off of my lap.
I held up my hand to the front man in the band and pulled back my jacket with the other hand giving him a flash of my gun.
His eyes widened and the band finished playing a few seconds later. The front man addressed the thin crowd, “We’re taking a quick break, folks.”