“Leave it alone. You have more important things to work out. Like I said, it doesn’t affect my case. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“We’ll wrap back around to it later. Let me get this weekend over.”
“Good luck, man. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thanks.” I hang up and toss the phone across the sofa, sinking back.
I replay the conversation from this morning, lying in bed with her before she had to leave for the day. I knew something was off the second I started the conversation, but it didn’t register. Now, it’s nagging at me.
“I don’t want to get out of bed.” She snuggled in closer, trailing her fingers over my tattoos.
“Then don’t.” I kiss the top of her head.
“Maren will be upset if we miss this spa day. Rachel has organized quite the princess treatment, including lunch from the French bakery on the corner.”
“Well, you can’t miss the princess treatment.”
“We haven’t done this in a year.”
“What?”
“A true spa day.”
“I thought you did it all the time. Even a few weeks ago in Myrtle Beach.”
“We did small things like manis and pedis, but today is all out. We’re having facials, scrubs, waxing, manicures, pedicures, and maybe even a massage.”
“Why so long?”
She stiffens, her finger stopping mid-scroll. “Carlton was an ass. We could get away for a few hours, but every single time we made plans for a whole day, he had something come up. Maren was torn between making one of us upset, so I always settled for whatever she had time for. Finally, I stopped trying. When she brought it up the other night, I jumped on the idea.”
Without knowing it, she opened the door for me. “She seems to be doing much better with their break-up.”
“She’s completely fine now.” The answer comes out swift and terse.
“The trip to Myrtle Beach made her see perspective?”
She pauses, her body going tense against mine. “Yes, that was it. The trip to Myrtle Beach. It cured everything.” Her voice is low, almost regretful.
“Marcus heard Nina mention something about her uncovering Carlton’s cheating anonymously, but you mentioned the evidence fell into her lap.”
Her body jerks, her hand flattening on my chest. “It wasn’t a coincidence. She hired a group when she became suspicious. It wasn’t like she could go to anyone around here. She was scared word would get out that she was looking into him. She hired an anonymous group she found online. They brought her almost everything she needed. She knew she needed help when she found the syphilis medicine hidden in his car.”
Syphilis? The motherfucker had syphilis?
“Why are we talking about Maren and Carlton?” She looks up at me, her honey brown eyes sharp and alert.
“We’re not, at least not anymore.”
I felt like shit. Fucking Marcus.
Now, after watching that video, I have more questions than answers. The rumbling in my gut tells me it’s too big a coincidence. But my head tells me to leave it alone.
I scrub my hands over my face and close down the computer. One hour until the SLED assigned limo picks me up. I dial Emi’s number, figuring it will be the last time I talk with her today.
“Hey, sweetie,” she answers against the sound of women chatting in the background.
“How’s it going?”
“Awesome, I’m officially spoiled. Rachel has outdone herself.”
“That good, huh?”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure even Rico makes bikini waxing a memorable experience.”
I bolt up at her statement. “Are you fucking shitting me? Please tell me Rico is a woman.”
She starts to giggle, the sound doing nothing to calm my rising anger.
“No, Rico’s a guy. He’s also a master. I have a surprise for you.” Her voice lowers, and I miss the intention because all I can see in my head is a man looking at her practically naked.
“Walker? Are you still there?”
“You’d have been better off telling me he was a woman. Now, I’m thinking I need to make a stop by the spa on my way out,” I grumble. Images run through my brain of her bare, and my cock stirs, then stops, thinking of another man seeing what I claim as my own.
She giggles again and lowers her voice this time. “He knows all about you. He actually did me a favor, a special treat only for you.”
I remain quiet.
“Walker, stop stewing. Rico is gay, and he’s a professional. I swear, you’re going to love him by tomorrow night. Well, maybe not tomorrow night, but soon,” she rambles.
“What exactly did he do?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I’ll keep that in mind as I try to forget the fact that he’s been looking at your pussy.”
She inhales sharply. “Walker!”
“This is a good time to change the subject.”
“Okay, so are you ready for tonight?”
“As ready as I’ll be. Speaking of tonight, I’ll call you on my way so you can open the door.”
“You can do that, or you can use your key.”
“My key?”
“Yes, look at your keyring.”
I reach for my keys on the coffee table and spot a hot pink key I didn’t notice earlier. “Hot pink?”
“I wanted you to be able to recognize it. You have a lot of keys.”
“When did you do this?”
“I slipped it on this morning after our shower.”
I grin at the memory of us this morning, her writhing and begging for mercy as I pounded into her. Our showers have become a favorite part of my daily routine. Anything that involves Emi has become my favorite.
“Oww!” she screeches, jarring me from the memory.
“What’s wrong?”
“Maren threw a nut at me. It hit me in the eye.”
“You’re a bitch that keeps bragging! I bet you like nuts in your eye! Our shower… oooh, Walker… he’s so perfect… I’m getting laid…” Maren shouts loud enough for me to hear. Which means anyone in twenty feet heard, too, including Rico.
“Baby, you telling people about our sex life again?”
“No! Well, at least, not the public. Maren just has a bug up her ass. She needs to get laid.”
“YES! That’s the point! We’re going out tonight!” Maren screams again, this time sending a prickle down my spine.
“What did she say? You’re going out tonight?”
“Well, I was going to talk to you about that. It seems we are. Maren’s decided she’s on a mission—again. And since we’ve been beautified today, she wants to go out.”
I fight the urge to demand she stay home. I’ll be out of touch most of the night, and the thought of her and Maren getting into trouble crosses my mind. But I hold back, hoping Emi won’t willingly get herself into any situations. “Let me know where you’re going. I’ll make a few calls and find out who’s either at the door or in the area. You need them, they’ll be available.”
“We’re going to behave.”
“I’d like to be one step ahead. If you start a bar brawl, it’ll be nice to know—”
“We won’t start a bar brawl!”
“Time will tell.”
“You’re going to be upset when I don’t show you your surprise because of your smart mouth.” She lowers her voice. “And you really don’t want Rico to be the only one to see this surprise.”
I leap off the couch, grabbing my keys, then see the time on the cable display. Fuck! I can’t get to her. “Don’t mess with me, Emi.”
She starts to snicker again, knowing she’s gotten my attention. “I love you, Walker. Be safe tonight. I’ll see you when you get home.” The phone goes dead before I can respond.
A text comes through a second later. The picture of her neon pink toenails with small shiny crystals fills my screen, and I groan out loud.
This woman is going to be the end of me
.
Let’s get this fucking show on the road. I say to myself, running my hand through my hair and checking myself in the mirror one last time. SLED spared no expense on the new black suit, custom fitting it to my body. One of the perks of acting the part of a million-dollar investor is looking like one.
Agent Ross sends me a text when the limo is outside waiting. When I slide in, I give a half-wave to Ross and Collins in the front and settle next to Agent Kelly.
There’s an envelope on the seat between us with all my credentials, including my temporary ‘Suite’ membership card. The owners of the club were more than willing to extend an invitation without going through the vetting process once they saw our false bank statements and lists of other businesses. The only caveat was our promise not to open a similar club within ninety miles. Otherwise, they were happy to host us for the evening.
I have to hand it to SLED; they impressed even me. In less than a week, they had created an impenetrable identity, and Kelly and I were currently armed with some of the most state of the art undercover surveillance equipment. The watch on my wrist is worth more than my first truck. Even Captain Corny looked envious when we unloaded the equipment last night.
“Did we arouse any suspicions with our request to come in early?”
“Nope, we’re all set. They understand our desire to arrive without an audience and get settled,” Kelly explains. “There is one development that came up today.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands at his coy smirk.
“They’ve reserved a room for us, if we want to partake in any of the activities. We also have a list of members who like to play. Not much is off limits.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“These people think we’re into the lifestyle, Scott, so they’ve provided us with women to service our needs.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” A nasty taste forms in my mouth.
“All we have to do is say the word. We’re given carte blanche to the room all night. Privacy is promised.”
“You sure they’re not selling sex?”
“Nope, this lifestyle isn’t about that. Do you know anything about BDSM?”
“Not enough, obviously, but I’m beginning to think you do.”
“Occupational requirement. Follow my lead and you’ll be okay. But do me a favor and don’t look so disgusted if approached.”
“Shit to all hell,” I mutter under my breath.
As promised, when we drive up to the entrance, SLED’s undercover bartender, Sam, is waiting with the doorman. We present our IDs and are swiftly led to a VIP area upstairs.
Sam remains stoic, ensuring we have all we need before going to the bar downstairs completely in view. The open floor plan gives us direct visuals to the entry hall, the two bars, an expansive dance floor surrounded by high-top bar tables with stools, and six other VIP sections similar to ours. Each of them is set up for the night, with a private waitress preparing for guests to arrive.
While the place is mostly vacant, Kelly and I take a walk around the downstairs, scoping it out. One of the owners, Ray, meets us and shakes our hands a little too eagerly before insisting on leading us around the viewing areas. Down a dark hallway, we’re shown several rooms flanked with furniture I assume fits the lifestyle as Kelly called it. I may not be an expert, but I recognize all the traditional props lined on the walls, and several shelves of equipment. What does catch my eye is the seating area in the rooms where spectators can watch what plays out in front of them.
Then we’re led to a group of smaller rooms with no seating areas, just the basic equipment. Lastly, there are three doors for private rooms. These are decorated softer, lacking the massive amounts of toys, but still have beds and other elements. We’re told one of these is ours for the evening.
Ray takes us back to our area and pours a drink, continuing to boast about the success of the club and the discretion of the members. Kelly and I share several glances, communicating silently that Ray has no clue his place is possibly being used as a meeting ground for drug dealers.
After an hour, the place starts to fill up with patrons, and he excuses himself.
“Finally, I thought the guy was going to stay all night.” Kelly exhales and puts his ear bud in, testing the frequency.
I do the same and play with my watch until I’m satisfied Kelly, Ross, Collins, and Oliver all have communication.
For the next few hours, Kelly and I sip on our drinks, watching the club fill up by masses. All but one of the VIP sections are full.
People mingle back and forth from the back hallways, some gone for a few minutes, some for longer.
“Head’s up, we have three men, each exiting a different car, coming in,” Collins announces.
I stand and go to the railing, crossing my arms and trying to stay in the darker shadows to view the inside entrance. One by one, the men come through, and I use the camera in the watch to snap pictures, which immediately transfer to the computer Oliver is using for face recognition.
The men all climb the stairs and go directly to the last empty VIP space. Their waitress greets them with drinks, then excuses herself when one of them whispers something in her ear.
“I’m up.” Kelly straightens his jacket, pops out his ear bud, and follows the waitress. When he gets close enough, he brushes against her, placing a bugging device on her dress, then passes by to the bathrooms.
Now, we wait. I lean over the railing, scanning the room below. Cocktail waitresses scamper around trying to keep up with the high volume of tables, the DJ starts playing music while a few people gather on the dance floor, and the bar is slammed as the bartenders try to serve everyone.
My eyes zoom in on two ladies perched on one end, sitting facing each other, sipping on martinis. One of them has strawberry blonde hair that falls in layers to her shoulders and is wearing small square-framed glasses. The other has long brunette hair that is swept to the side and held in place by a large jeweled butterfly clip. She’s also wearing glasses, these with thin black frames. I don’t recognize either of them, but there’s a familiarity that nags at me.
I continue to keep an eye on them as Kelly rejoins me and sits at our table.
“Two more men headed in now. Different cars, both alone, both wearing thousand dollar suits,” Collins speaks into our ears.
I take my stance and snap their picture with the watch when they walk thru and are led straight to the other three men waiting.
“All five are together. We may have our crew. Stay sharp.”
“I’m working on identifications now. Can you get some shots of them together?” Oliver asks.
“It’s pretty dark, but I can try.” I throw my arm out and pretend to fix my sleeves as I point the watch in their direction and take some shots.
“We’ve got audio,” Ross announces, signaling the bug on the waitress is working.
“Sit back and relax, guys. We’ve got this,” Oliver assures us.
I shift to sit across from Kelly, keeping my eyes trained on the women at the bar who are now talking to Sam. He serves them another round, and a knot forms in my gut when I catch the lemon peel in one of the glasses.
I jump to my feet a little too quickly, our waitress rushing to my side. “Is there something you need, Mr. Miles?”
“I’m going downstairs.”
“Would you like me to escort you?” she asks in a low, suggestive voice, flashing me a seductive grin. The meaning in her tone is clear; she thinks I’m ready to participate and she’s offering herself.
My ear fills with the sound of snickering from all the men who heard her, too. Even Kelly is looking at me with amusement in his eyes.
Well, two can play at that game.
“Not now, sweetie, but I think Mr. Phillips could use some special attention. He’s had a rough day.”
Kelly’s grin dies on his lips, and his eyes slant in warning as she turns to him. I leave him alone as I pop out my earpiece and go downstairs to t
he far end of the bar. Sam makes his way to me, laying out a napkin.
“What’ll it be?”
“Whiskey, neat.”
He pours and places in front of me. “You have a waitress for this.”
“The women at the other end of the bar, the ones you were talking to, did you get names?”
“Yeah, I think Carrie and Miranda.”
“Thanks.” I face away from the bar and rack my brain. I don’t know a Carrie or a Miranda, but the uneasy feeling in my gut grows with every minute that passes. Two men approach them, buying them drinks. I can’t make out what they’re saying from the distance, but it’s easy to assume what these guys are thinking by the way they eye the women. One of them jerks his head and points to the back hallway.
The women lean in, talking into each other’s ear, then they stand, taking their drinks and purses and making their way to the hallway leading to the rooms.
I freeze, my heart thundering loudly when the brunette comes into full view. She’s at least fifteen feet away, but I know that body. The skin-tight dress hugs every curve of her shapely frame, highlighting her hips and ass—the same ass that sways as she walks away. Then the last piece of proof comes when she twists on her heel enough for me to see her neon pink toenails with crystals.
My blood starts to boil, roaring through my veins as Emi’s swooped into the crowd of people. One man steps to her side and takes her elbow, ushering her in front of him and disappearing behind a door.
A viewing room door.
My grip on the tumbler in my hand grows so tight the glass cracks. Rage and jealousy spike in my veins as my blood pressure skyrockets. I attempt to calm myself at the sight of another man touching her. The full picture keeps replaying through my mind.
I slam my already broken glass on the bar and take the steps three at a time until I reach our section. Kelly is alone and eyeing me with hostility.
“Nice of you to come back.”
“Not now.” I motion for him to remove his earpiece then join me at the railing.
“What the fuck?”
“Give me a second.” I inhale in a few deep breaths and feel my heart rate returning to normal. “I’ve got a problem.”
Trixsters Anonymous Page 20