AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Max
Maxwell entered the club, brushing past a large, brutish-looking bouncer. The room was poorly lit, no doubt to hide the stains and tears in the carpet and upholstery. It smelled of smoke, sweat, and arousal. Why he’d agreed to come here with his best buddy, Foster Hyland, and a handful of their friends was beyond him. Clubs like this weren’t his scene. Most of the guys he knew loved them, but watching women remove their clothes for a room full of strangers for money didn’t do it for him. At least not since he’d been eighteen. At that age, all guys cared about was seeing tits and ass.
Making his way toward the main area with the tables, Max took a good look around. Almost all twenty or so tables, as well as every booth, were filled with drunk, rowdy onlookers. One large stage—with multiple poles reaching from floor to ceiling—and a DJ booth took up most of the east wall.
The waitresses moved slowly, as if they couldn’t care less who got their drinks and who didn’t, or it could be the ridiculously high heels they all wore. Someone whistled loudly over the booming music, catching Max’s attention. He noticed his best friend waving to him from across the room. Two tables in the back had been pushed together to hold his party, and Max made his way over to where the other men were now standing to greet him.
Foster was the first to grab him in a manly shoulder hug. At six-foot-two, Foster was an inch shorter than Max. He still wore his sandy blond hair short on the sides, but it was longer on the top than it had been the last time they’d hung out a few weeks ago. That’s when Foster had told him he was getting married.
“Glad you could make it.” Foster had to raise his voice to be heard over the thumping beat.
Max grimaced. The music was already grating on his nerves. “I almost didn’t. You’re lucky I missed all your dumb asses.”
Smiling, Max made the rounds, embracing the guys he knew and thought of as brothers while giving a polite hello to the few he didn’t. The gang was all here tonight: Benjamin “Benji” Agani, Mortimer “Mother” Neville, Paxton “Tank” Sokolofski, Kasper “Gutter Mouth” Gutermuth, and Foster. Plus, the few guys Max didn’t know made for a table of ten.
“For those of you who don’t know, this is Max Fear,” Foster announced, clapping Max on the back. “My best bud and personal ‘Savior of my ass’ on more than one occasion.”
Max took a seat, with Foster on one side and Tank on the other. Ordering a beer from the waitress before she could scurry off again was harder than he thought it would be. The atmosphere sucked, but the company was what really mattered.
Tank turned toward him and grinned, his massive arms straining the thin cotton of his green t-shirt. With his buzz cut and olive skin, he looked like he’d just finished a tour overseas. “Max! Good to see you, man.”
“It’s been too long, Tank. How’s that baby sister of yours?” Max teased, knowing damn well how protective Tank was over his little sister.
“A pain in the ass as always,” Tank grumbled, shaking his head. “She pops in whenever she feels like it. Messes up my kitchen and leaves again.”
Max raised his eyebrows. “She in town now?”
“Stay the fuck away from her.” Tank bared his teeth, and Max burst out laughing.
The Boys in Blue back together again…Well, not all of them fell under that title anymore. Max had left the police force over a year ago. He hoped to open his own security firm, Fear Incorporated, in the near future. Gutter Mouth and Tank had retired two years before Max did. They were both doing private securities as well, only with different firms. Max hoped to poach them both once his business opened. He was close, but not quite there yet.
With a cold MGD in hand, he leaned back in the chair and listened to the guys tease and laugh around the tables. Taking a long pull off the bottle, one conversation caught his attention.
Across the table, a man with short blond hair shook his head. “She’s great, but she’s so, I don’t know…vanilla.”
Foster stared unbelievingly at him. “Brody, I’ve heard stories of her and Mirabella. Are we talking about the same girl?”
Brody shrugged. “Whatever you’ve heard, I’m sure it was a lie. I don’t even think she likes sex.”
The waitress came back to refresh drinks. She was tall in her heels, with a strategically placed, tiny bikini covering her important bits. The fabric looked like foil, if foil were bright pink. She had great legs, probably from wearing ridiculous heels like that every night. Breasts like hers screamed silicone from across the room, and her hair was dyed to a bright candy apple red. Both her look and demeanor screamed cheap and easy. She stopped behind Brody, brushing her tits against the back of his shoulders.
“Comin’ over tonight?” she purred.
Brody raised his eyebrows and grinned. “What time you off?”
“One.”
“The boys and I should be done about that time.”
“Great.” She smiled before spinning around and running back to the bar with her empty tray.
Foster frowned. Max was sure he’d missed something being exchanged between the two of them. Whatever it was, his best friend looked disappointed and Brody looked indifferent. The guy was clearly a douchebag.
Foster narrowed his eyes. “Thought you stopped seeing Carmela?”
Brody winced. “I did…mostly.” He reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Aww hell, man. Don’t look at me like that. A man has needs.” Finally he had the good sense to look ashamed.
