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Jess is nowhere to be seen.
W-where is she?
My attention whips to Kio who emerges from the shadows. “Kal swung by The Spot on his way over here. Your outfits are behind the bar.”
Murmurs of excitement web through the dancers, and several of them break away to dig through the stack.
Kio continues, eyes boring into mine, daring me to question why Kal picked up the outfits instead of Jess. “Cash and Bay took care of the booth setup early.”
“Wow, chivalry is still alive after all. Thanks guys.” I flash Bae and Chaz a plastic grin — the two friendliest assassins of the bunch.
Usually.
Chaz, still leather clad from toes to neck, slips a few fingers under his collar and adjusts the top zipper of his riding suit so the metal stops digging into his skin.
Even Bae refuses to make eye contact with me, his lips curling inward until they are nearly invisible.
My empty stomach contracts and churns. The muscle relaxers may have my mind a bit slow to pick up all these ominous nuances but not slow enough, seeing as I built somewhat of an immunity over the past several years. By several I mean since my early teens. Being clean for a few months was not quite enough time to remedy that.
The only other time I have ever seen all the Hell for Leather men look so dour as a collective was when Rachal, a Tit for Tat favorite and my best friend, died.
The relaxant in my system is not enough to slow the galloping of my heart. Not a drug in the world can cure the all-encompassing fear of losing someone close. With how Kio is standing there, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for me to lash out, he might as well be a cop knocking on the door in the middle of the night to deliver heart-wrenching news.
I blurt out the only question I can safely ask in this setting: “Where is Jess?” I may not be able to get any confirmation about my parents right now, but at least this is something.
One of the new girls responds right away. “Oh, sorry! I was supposed to tell you something came up, and she has some personal business to tend to. She texted me about an hour ago and asked if I would swap shifts with her today.”
When I look to Kio for a reaction, all I get is his usual stoic expression.
“Thanks, Snow.” Chaz pops up in my peripheral, jumps onto the stage, and circles us back around to the purpose of this meeting. His nickname for the fair-skinned, ebony-haired vixen is fitting. Having him apply it, however, stirs a cruel, bitter envy inside me, challenging my psyche a hundredfold. “As an added precaution, all bikers will be vetted first. Vincent, our Road Captain, will be our safety coordinator during the endo runs.” Chaz gestures toward Vee, but Vee is still completely zoned out. “The kissing portion of the booth will open half past the hour, every hour, for twenty-minute stints.”
Caring a lot less about what Chaz has to say and more about appearance, Josie chimes in. “Are the hose a requirement?” she asks, holding up the thin, black, lacy stockings, her gaze floating toward Kal. Guess she enjoyed wrapping her lips around his cock after all, performance issues aside. Careful, princess, that one-eyed snake is venomous.
Ball in my court, I respond, “Hell yeah. That and the little bit of lace at the cleavage are the only parts representing us ladies. We wouldn’t want the guys getting all the credit, right?”
From the back near the bathrooms, a disembodied voice asks, “Even you?”
“Even me. While I would definitely prefer to show my tattooed lace, this is more about camaraderie. I can handle a day without showing off my ink. I guess.” I pop my bottom lip out in a dramatic pout and earn at least a few chuckles.
Even if it is a lie. Toss my leather and lace straitjacket into the donation pile for all I care. This siren evolved and is ready to fly.
