Page 18 of Stag

If only. I sighed again, leaning back in the seat, a palm landing on my chest as I moved, because fuck. That fucker.

“She needs to be kept safe, man. She can’t hear predators and stuff. Anyone could sneak up on her, hurt her, attack her. I need to keep her safe, even if I can’t have her.”

Micro and Harley reappeared, both looking grim, and there we have it. I’m out. No woman, probably no job now, and no club or home. This is how it feels to lose everything in one fell swoop. My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest, there was sweat dripping down my back, and everything hurt from the fight. I think I’ve got new bruises on top of the old ones from the Double D massacre.

“He’s in love, Pres.”

Micro groaned, sitting back down on the bench, with Harley joining him. It was like an interview panel, and I’m getting really fucking sick of being interviewed like I’m not just trying to survive every fucking day.

“Here’s how we see this,” Micro started, dragging a hand over the back of his neck, “right now you haven’t harmed the club. Right now, you’re merely straddling a line between them and us. I’m betting they want inside info on us, and I’m also betting you said fuck no to that part.”

Hallelujah, finally someone was getting me right. I nodded, but he wasn’t done.

“Nevertheless, we can’t have a brother working for them unless we’re protected, you get that.”

I stood up, wincing as pain shot through every fucking inch of me, and grabbed my cut in both hands. They were taking it. This is the moment where I lose everything.

“Sit down, you idiot. You’re not getting booted. You fucked up. You do it plenty, we’re used to that. The Bennetts are trying to get all up in our biz, again, we’re used to that. There’s a way we all win, yeah?”

Was there? I couldn’t sit back down or I’d never get up. Why didn’t I ask for painkillers when I got here? I’m such a dumbass.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Pres.”

Micro grinned, looking every bit the deadly man I knew he still was.

“You’ll keep an eye on them for us. Get in with them. Find out what kinda shit they do, and where we might get some leverage on them. This shit goes both ways. They want dirt on us, they want us indebted to them, but why can’t we do the same?”

I was wrong. I’m not getting booted. They’re getting me killed instead. And outside of all of this bullshit, I was still wondering if my woman was awake and getting started with her day. I hoped it was going better than mine.

Claudia

My new phone was great, and I was able to retrieve all my data thanks to the help of my sister, and some frustrating moments for her on with customer service. Having read and been told how frustrating those calls could be, I was glad I wasn’t able to make them. You have to look for that silver lining everywhere, because some days it’s hard to see positives.

It was a few days after the incident and we’d gone to the club to relax and let the music fill our souls. It was really the only place that I felt like I was a normal person, feeling the beat so intensely that all I was missing was the lyrics. It was easy to fill those gaps with an app on my phone if I wanted, but tonight what I wanted was to dance.

The taxi dropped us outside by the door, and we stepped into the long queue to get in. It was always a bit of a wait to get in, but worth it for the freedom it gave me to be my best self.

I caught the eye of the bouncer as I stepped to the side to check the queue, and signed ‘hi’ to him, because he knew some sign language and always made the effort with me. He grinned and waved at me to come forward. I shook my head, not wanting to be a queue jumper, even though I really wanted in, but he did it again, signing the word ‘please’.

Dammit. I grabbed Marissa’s hand and led her past the queue, while people glared and some of them were clearly making comments which I gladly couldn’t hear, although Marissa was flipping people off, while the bouncer pointed and yelled something at them.

*Sorry,* I signed, *We can wait to get in.*

He shook his head, scanning our cards for the cover charge, and pointing at the door. Nice. It was a bit of an ego boost to get skipped ahead of the queue.

As soon as we stepped inside the sights and scents hit me, perfumes, alcohol, that smell of bodies writhing warmly together on the dancefloor. And the booming of the music was vibrating up through my feet, and filling me with the carefree joy of knowing I was in my happy place again.

Marissa tugged on my hand and led me to the bar, where we quickly downed two vodka cranberry drinks, which in here were named Grimm’s Berries, and then we moved to our usual spot on the dancefloor, where the beat was the most intense for me.

A guy fairly quickly started dancing up against Marissa, and she sent me a questioning look, because she’d never abandon me, and I nodded, waving her off. In here, we were safe. In here, nobody would pull anything, because there were at least five large bouncers in the place watching over the dancers, the club, and that motorcycle that women weren’t allowed to get on. The rumour was that he’d claim any woman who climbed on it, and yet nobody had tried since I’d been here. I had no idea why, because he was hot. He looked like a vampire, and mingled with all of us, dancing with the ladies, and fist bumping the men as he passed them. He was an enigma, an extra delight in this place, and it meant I was always scanning for him.

I closed my eyes, letting the beat fill me and lift all my troubles away. This is what I came here for. Freedom. Release. Comfort. For once I didn’t feel like I was missing a sense, or trapped in a silent world, because the beat was so heavy and throbbing that I was feeling it, even felt like I could hear it. It was like my world actually opened up wider. It gave me hope. That’s weird, but that’s how it felt

Some guy suddenly started dancing up behind me, and instead of stressing about who the hell it might be, and if he’s cute, and if he wants more, I just went with it. Marissa was distracted with the guy whose face she was currently trying to devour, and that meant I could just enjoy it. Contact. Physical contact. Maybe I don’t get to have sex very often, but rubbing up against some stranger in a club is good foreplay before I go home and scratch that itch with my favourite toy.

His arms slid around my stomach, pulling me tighter against him as we moved and writhed to the music, and I glanced down to see tattoos reaching almost to his wrists, bright and colourful, although some of that could have been due to the coloured lights moving over the dancefloor.

We were so in sync, moving together as if we’d been made to do it, which was insane because behind me could be anybody, hell even Grimm himself. He was hot, but I wasn’t sure he was my type exactly. If I even had a type. I reached back, sliding my hand around the man’s neck, holding him to me as he held me close, our bodies sliding together in the most intimate way for two people who weren’t actually fucking.