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You address me as ‘sir.’ Surely a club whore knows her place. I’ve seen everything you do. Not sure what kind of barback you make, but a hell of a good whore.
Dahlia straightened her back and shot up from her chair, rushing out the door to the end of the hall. She scanned the club. As per usual, it was wall-to-wall people, so she slowed her review of the faces, taking in every inch of the club. Three-quarters of the way in, she spotted him near the second bar, in line with the DJ station. As people passed by, obstructing her view, she focused in on Rod.
Oh, you bitter motherfucker!
How had she not remembered him?
I know you!
****
Trey grasped his glass, staring down at the amber-colored liquor. He hadn’t overreacted, but his anger was directed at the wrong mark. He looked over to the men standing in line, sharpening his glare on who should’ve been his intended target. Motherfucker!
Dahlia had given him the rundown and all of her reasoning. It was valid, but not at the time, and he’d come at her. Hard and relentless. She’d left his office practically in tears. Embarrassed and humiliated. Trey would take ownership of his part. He’d fucked up with Dahlia. He’d allowed his own perspective to discount her reality. But this wasn’t one-sided. No one was walking away unscathed, especially him.
Trey eyed Rod, who stood alongside security. He wasn’t a full-fledged member, though Rogue had been adamant about taking him on months ago. They all had their own security, individually chosen. Trey and Rogue had a unique situation. Working so closely, they often shared their security, mainly Jared as the lead.
“What do you wanna do?” Rogue asked.
Trey stared back at Rod. “He’s one of yours.”
“I ain’t opposed to scaring the fuck outta him.”
Game fucking on!
Trey raised his hand, calling over Rod.
Rod walked over. “It was a great night.”
He’d been hired months back to train for Rogue’s security and watch the numbers on the club. It was meant to be a silent managerial position. However, it seemed he’d started to play a bigger role.
Rod stood at the end of the table, his arms behind his back. And he waited. He showed all the signs of a good and loyal soldier to the Underground. Except you fucked with the wrong woman!
“Why does she call you sir?” Trey asked, fisting the glass in his palm. Just saying it drove heat through his body, spurring the need to throw his fist through something.
“Sign of respect.”
“Have you earned her respect?” Trey cocked his brow.
Rod blinked, veering his gaze toward Rogue. Trey glanced over and watched Rogue’s glare harden.
“I’m just doing what you hired me to do. Keep everyone in line.”
Wrong fucking answer!
“You don’t fucking keep her in line!” Rogue shouted.
Trey should have expected it. Rogue could never stay quiet for too long, though it was surprising, him taking Dahlia’s back. Again, game-changer. Rogue had always been labeled a hothead, unpredictable, irrational, and impulsive. It was fitting. But he was intuitive when it came to Trey and Oz. The three were like moving parts, knowing how the others thought, sometimes knowing their next move before they even acted on it. Trey, making it known Dahlia was off-limits, set Rogue into protective mode over her. In his mind, she was Trey’s, an extension of his own.
Trey drew in a breath, watching Rod squirm slightly. “Dahlia doesn’t answer to you. She doesn’t report to you. And you will not speak to her again.”
“I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
“No!” Trey snapped, then regained some control. “It won’t. Do you understand what will happen if it does?”
“I’ll be fired.”
Trey smirked. “Termination is going to be the least of your concerns. Am I making myself fucking clear?”
