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“He took all my body glitter with him.” Another stripper, Sassy, groaned. “Do you know how long that takes to apply?”
Then, as if he didn’t have a care in the world, Kirk strolled through the door from the back room and walked right up to our group.
Taking one look at me, then the strippers, followed by Adam, he grinned.
He reminded me of a Saint Bernard. All happy and goofy and fluffy—though that fluffiness seemed to me located in his head.
“Kirk,” I said. “I didn’t know you were here.”
He walked up to one of the security guards and wiped some glitter off of his arm.
He didn’t even stop when John glared hard.
“Kirk,” Adam said. “What are you doing here?”
“I was waiting for you to show up,” he commented. “I stayed back while all of that was going on, though. My girl would kill me if I came home covered in glitter.”
“It’s about to be all over you if you don’t back the fuck away from me,” John growled.
“Sorry, sorry.” Kirk held up his hands and then backed away, turning to face Adam. And then me. “I need y’all to move closer together. It’s really hard to talk to you both when I can’t see you.”
Adam rolled his eyes but took up a seat at the bar.
“All right, ladies,” Lynn said. “Time to get back to work.”
All the patrons, who thankfully hadn’t entered into the fray, went back to their respective tables as well.
The strippers returned to their duties, waitresses started serving drinks again, and Nadine went back to work while I took a small break so I could listen to whatever Kirk had to say.
The rest of the SWAT team that Adam had brought with him—Nathan, Saint, Sammy, and Malachi—took seats at the bar, too.
Kirk stood in front of all of them while I leaned over the bar.
“Turns out that Rogan’s been losing money. Lots of it,” Kirk said, his eyes full of mirth. “He’s lost so much, in fact, that he’s getting desperate so he can continue his lifestyle.”
“Lost it how?” I asked curiously.
“Lost it to where he has four bodyguards that follow him around, not because he needs protection, but because someone hired them to stay with him at all times,” Kirk said. “Apparently, Rogan has a gambling problem. A big one that requires him to gamble with some big-time players. Big-time players that don’t like when he can’t pay up.”
“So what I’m hearing is that I just need to keep my nose clean until Rogan gets whacked?” I teased.
Kirk looked at me, something different rolling through his eyes at my comment. “Yes. Exactly.”
Surprise lifted my brows.
“That was totally a joke on my end,” I commented. “But you’re being completely serious, aren’t you?”
Kirk nodded. “Hunt shared that he found out through some creative hacking—that’s the shit that he does that’s illegal—that Rogan has until the end of this month to get the money. If he doesn’t have it by then, they’ll start taking it in whatever means they find fit.”
“You’ve talked to Hunt?” I asked. “When did you talk to him?”
“I didn’t,” Kirk admitted. “I told you, there’s a thread I follow about Hunt. People talk about him like he’s God or something there. Everything he does they share. That information about Rogan being one of them.”
“What thread is this?” Adam finally spoke.
Kirk pulled out his phone and showed him the link. “You’ll have to be approved, but I can do that. I’m one of the admins.”
With that, Kirk shoved his phone back into his pants. “I gotta go. My wife’s been expecting me for an hour and a half now.”
Without another word, Kirk turned around and left.
We all watched as Kirk walked out, spotted Bruno, and gave him a head nod. They walked up to each other, shook each other’s hands, and then laughed about something before going their separate ways.
“You know,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Bruno laugh before.”
“Me neither,” Nadine murmured softly. “He’s always so scary looking. His face cracking into a smile seems odd. Like it doesn’t belong there.”
“You know,” Malachi said in an off-hand comment. “It always surprises me when men like that score hot women.”
“How do you know she’s hot?” I wondered.
“His lock screen. She was beautiful,” Malachi murmured.
I sighed and stood up straight.
“I have about two hours left.” I directed that message to the man that had turned around on his bar stool and was now staring at me. “Do you want a table? Or you gonna stay right here?”
I tapped my long nails on the bar top, and his eyes went to them.
He grinned when he saw the nails.
“King?” he teased.
I’d gotten my nails done before work by one of the strippers who was in school to be an esthetician/nail technician. I’d even had her paint on some really cute corgis that looked a whole lot like King.
