Page 23 of Property of Rattler

I don’t think it’s possible to fake how Satin blanches.

Prez sighs, having noticed her face paling as well. I suppose it could be guilt that she’s been found out, equally as much as it could be a sign of her innocence. “Rat? Take the girls back up to your room, then come back down. I’ve called all the brothers in for church.”

CHAPTER TEN

RATTLER

Church. Just what I wanted. Now all my brothers are going to hear how I spent the night locked in the storeroom along with the worst server on earth. I’m usually the one dishing out the shit, and definitely not taking it. They’re going to have a fucking field day. Open season on Rat.

When I escort the girls out of the room, Ames touches my arm. “I know it’s Sunday, but I didn’t realise you all were religious.”

I bark a strangled laugh. “We’re not. Church is what we call our meetings.”

Spying Dee, I call him over and give him instructions to take the girls back to the bunkhouse and to make sure they stay there, just like before. When they disappear with their escort, I go to the bar and demand a double of Jack from Dum. Fuck knows I’ll need it to get through the next hour or so. A few lingering out-of-town brothers are preparing to leave. I slap a few backs as I pass, exchanging greetings and wishing them a safe onward ride.

Unable to delay any longer, I head into church. On entering the room, I find most of the brothers already in attendance, alllooking to be in some stage of recovery from the night before. A couple have beers in front of them, most have coffee, and Woody is nursing a glass of something which looks suspiciously like Alka-Seltzer. Next to him, Paint is tapping out two white tablets from a bottle and using water to swallow them.

“I’m going to fuckin’ kill whoever’s responsible for this meeting,” Winchester growls. “I was hoping to sleep last night off for a few more hours.”

Occupying myself by looking steadfastly at the table, I try not to draw their attention. They’ll learn soon enough that I’m the reason they’re here. But hell, it could have been either Paint or Stalker who’d landed themselves with this problem if they’d been the ones on call for Royals last night.

Gradually, all the chairs are filled, the latecomers not looking much better than those who were already here. Finally, Bullseye, Saint, and Tempest walk in, closely followed by Genie, who’s hugging his laptop. Last to enter is Freak.

All eyes turn to Bullseye as he bangs the gavel to get the meeting started.

“I know no one expected to be called in for church today,” Prez starts. “But we’ve got a problem, or an opportunity, whichever way you want to look at it, and we need to make some decisions. Rat?” After I perk my head up at my name, he asks, “You want to tell them or have me summarise?”

“Fuckin’ Rat, should have known the rodent would be at the bottom of this,” Winchester growls. “Whatcha gone and done now?’

“You stick your dick in the wrong stripper?” Paint asks.

Prez bangs the gavel. “Shut the fuck up.” Without mentioning it, he rescinds the offer to allow me to tell the story myself, for which I’m grateful. I’m getting enough flack as it is. “Rat, here, was called out to Royals last night. The new girl Freak recently employed…”

“Are you talking about the dancer?” Stalker asks with a frown. “I hope nothing’s happened to her. She’s doing great. Is popular with the?—”

“If you’ll shut up and let me speak, I’ll fuckin’ explain.” As the recipient of Bullseye’s piercing scowl, Stalker mimes zipping his lips. “Rat was asked to go down there as Ames had locked herself inside the storage room and refused to come out.”

“She actually wasn’t able to…” I feel bound to correct.

Prez slams both hands on the table. “You want to take over?” After I shake my head, he continues, “There’s apparently only one key to that room, and she took that inside with her. By the time Rat had picked the lock, the rest of the staff had left the club for the night. Rat got inside to drag her out, but the door locked behind him.” Fucking Prez’s traitorous lips curve as if even he finds this amusing. “Turns out she couldn’t come out as the lock was fucked. Rat was trapped inside with her for the rest of the night.”

There are some chuckles, some outright laughter. Words gives a deep belly laugh, and Stalker bends forward, clutching his sides.

But it’s Woody whose eyes narrow as he asks, “Why the fuck didn’t you call anyone?”

“Too fuckin’ embarrassed,” Words offers.

“Nah, he was too busy fuckin’ the server,” Stalker, now recovered, growls. “Fuck, Rat, she was just starting to prove her worth. We going to have a sexual assault charge against us?”

“Fuckin’ Rat.” Paint shakes his head.

Having had enough of this, I stand so fast that my chair falls over. Leaning over the table, I rasp, “I didn’t fuckin’ touch her. And as for my phone? The fuckin’ thing didn’t work. Turns out the storeroom must have been a safe room or something as the walls were all metal lined.” I focus directly on Stalker. “You really think I wanted to spend all night with that bitch?”

“She’s not that bad,” Stalker says immediately. His brow creases as he tilts his head to the side. “What do you mean, there’s a safe room in the club?”

“Not important right now,” Prez states firmly. “Got worse things to worry about. Like how someone turned off the power and the alarms and walked into fuckin’ Royals as if they owned it.”

Genie blanches white, though it’s obvious he’s already been told. Stalker and Paint get to their feet as I sit down. Freak’s face tightens, and I brace for a storm that might be coming.