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She nodded, and I laughed as her eyes roamed around the club, landing on the heaps of bodies writhing on each other in the go-go cages and users getting their powder fix just a few feet away on the dance floor.
Billie smiled over at me as I maneuvered us toward the VIP sections at the rear of the club.
“I hate this,” she spoke above the music.
Shaking my head, I got close to her ear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I do, too.”
We zigzagged through the crowd, making our way back to the areas I knew would be quieter and would most likely be where Cohen and Teddy were holding up. Obviously, you didn’t do business on the dance floor, and you typically didn’t do it in the saunas either. That was actually for relaxing, even for mob thugs.
As we crossed from one section of the dance floor to another, Billie was made abundantly aware of why the club was called RainBooms. The neon-lit dividers that looked like twinkling lights were actually water curtains, and the gentle mist sprinkled over us as we walked through.
“How do people not slip?!”
Right on cue, someone did, and I pointed at the little rubber mat on the floor just past the curtain. The one that drunk asshole clearly forgot to use.
“If you wipe your shoes, it’s not so bad. There’s also a few connections without the mist curtains, but they’re way off to the side.”
She scowled, but we both took care to wipe our shoes as we made our way to the main entrance to the multi-tiered VIP suites.
The roped-off entrance to the back was guarded by another set of bouncers. While they were still employees of the club directly, the men also knew the type of shit that went down just behind them and could be considered loyal in the fact that they clearly didn’t care.
I hooked my arm around Billie’s waist again as we approached and held her close. I nodded to the first bouncer, who made eye contact with me.
“Reservations?”
Billie’s eyes darted to mine briefly, her nervous energy making her buzz against my side. Exactly why I pulled you close, love.
“Standing reservations. Under Vadim.” The guy regarded me from top to bottom.
I didn’t recognize him, so I had to assume he was new. Still, he leaned toward a stanchion, pulling out a slim tablet and flicking through the screens.
“Pietor?”
Nodding with a bored smirk, I squeezed Billie tighter. “And guest.”
“Head right in, sir. Do you require a booth?”
The tall meathead gestured inside as he unclipped the thick rope that hung in our path and held it to the side. I nodded again, leaning into the guy’s newness to increase the likelihood that I might hear something good from Cohen.
“Mmm, yeah. Meeting. I need something by Donahue’s guy.”
The bouncer looked down to his tablet again, scanning over the layout of the VIP areas pulled up. With a quick jerk of his head that I assumed was a nod, he set the it back down and looked back up.
“Right this way, sir.”
I pulled Billie along as I followed him inside, and I could feel her relax a little against me. Espionage was clearly not something she was wholly comfortable with, but there was still plenty of time to learn.
“Relax, sweetheart,” I whispered against her ear. “It’s time to bust your boss.”
Chapter 21 - Billie
The club had already been a spectacular display of wealth, hedonism, and excess. It had already cemented in my mind that I knew so little about the world outside of my work. It had already proven just how out of my depth I was.
And then there was the VIP area.
The lighting was dimmer, colored in tints of purple and blue. Still, there was no mistaking the various “activities” that went on in the numerous private booths we passed. The booths themselves were square or long rectangular spaces along the walls that were open at the front—just three walls of privacy and occasionally a crystal beaded curtain.
It didn’t stop anyone from fucking or doing drugs inside them.
