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The intercom buzzes, and I get up to let the pizza guy in, heading to the front door. On my way back with the pizza, I grab two more beers. For the next hour, I forget about tonight, and just relax. I don’t think about Jamie, or the job I’ve got to do. I try even harder not to think about all the ways this could go to shit.
It’s an epic fail.
* * *
We arriveat Tempest around ten, and we collect our membership cards from a more than eager to please blond with bright red lips and a rack that makes it impossible for Jay to keep his eyes on her face. She’s not in the slightest bit subtle with her flirtations, and I wonder if it’s all part of the service or if she’s touting for services of her own.
It’s Monday, and whilst it’s busier than I expected, it’s nowhere near capacity. We move slowly to the bar, skirting the writhing bodies of those on the dance floor, and Jay orders us a couple of beers as we take in the scene.
As it stands, this place looks just like any other club in the city, but it hides a dark underbelly. Hidden beneath all those pretty embellishments lies a serpent, lying in wait and ready to strike as soon as you’re successfully drawn in.
I’ve discovered most things that look too good to be true are. There isn’t a person in this world that doesn’t have a darker side. One that when pushed enough, breaks free from its chains and swallows all the good in one bite.
In my short life, I’ve seen more than enough darkness. Some born of pure evil, some born of circumstance and trauma. All leave a stain on the soul. It doesn’t matter what mask you wear, what lies beneath can never truly be hidden. Especially, from those that share your pain.
“Hey, you listening to me?”
Jay’s voice brings me out if my head. “Sorry, kind of got lost in my thoughts for a second there.”
Jay’s eyes widen in mock surprise before he laughs. “You think? Anyway, as I was saying, to myself it seems, let’s take a walk round and find a good spot to sit. Unless you want to dance with me, handsome?” Jay flutters his eyes, pouting his lips and brushing a hand over my shoulder. I slap his hand away as he bursts into a fit of laughter, so much, that he draws more than a few eyes our way.
“Knock it off, you prat.” I can’t hide the small laugh that slips through. Then leaning closer, I whisper, “This is work, Jay.”
“Yeah, you’re telling me. Hard fucking work if I have put up with your grumpy, and way too serious, arse,” he says before tipping his bottle up and drinking down half of it.
“Come on,” I tell him, moving away from the bar.
We walk past a booth of guys around our age, and a bucket sits on the table with several bottles of Grey Goose, most of them empty. They are loud, and their conversation carries over the thumping music. I catch a few words as one of them brags about his latest conquest, and it’s not flattering at all. It’s vulgar and makes me want to punch him in the face.
I’m still shaking my head as we near the door that leads to the VIP area above, where a fuck-off big guy with midnight skin stands guard. He offers us a nod as we pass before his eyes return to scanning the rest of the floor.
I hear Jay muttering about how a guy that big could snap you like a twig when a door to my left opens, and a girl rushes out. She spins to look behind her, crashing straight into me. She bounces off me, stumbling on her feet, and I snap out a hand clasping her wrist to steady her. Her breath comes out in pants, eyes wide in fear as she gains her balance.
The tank sized guy guarding the VIP door walks towards us, and as she sees him, she positions herself so we’re between her and the door she just burst from.
“Fuck! Sorry, Tank,” she blurts, and I have to swallow the laugh that bubbles up at his very apt name. “I…er,” she stutters, looking between the three of us. “It’s just that—” She’s cut off as the door slams open again, flying back so hard it hits the wall, and a dark figure fills the doorway. His clothes are dishevelled, tie askew and hair sticking up like hands have been run through it. I can almost taste the malevolence pouring from him.
I watch as the girl takes a small step back, but her chin lifts too. It’s hard to see properly in the purple haze of lights cast across her face, but she’s young. I’d say too young, but the make-up plastered on her face helps hide her true age. Her almond eyes widen as the man from the doorway steps forward.
“You little bitch,” he spits, attempting to make a grab for her. She spins as if to flee, but with a quick look from me, Jay stops her. And on instinct, I grab the guy’s arm, spinning quickly and pinning it behind his back. He twists his head, shouting at me to let him go, but I hold him fast. In fact, I lever his arm higher up his back, forcing a cry from him and his body to bend at the waist.
I look around at the crowd the commotion has drawn just as a few other security guys join us, ushering them away.
“How about you calm down, and we deal with this amicably and somewhere a little less public. What do you say, big man?” I hiss in his ear. I feel the moment he realises where exactly he is and some of the tension leeches from his body. Pulling him back up straight, my gaze locks onto Tank, who eyes me with a spark of respect.
“You hankering for a job, pal?” he asks me. I shake my head with a laugh.
“Nah, man. Just protecting my investment. You know, don’t want one stupid prick spoiling the fun for the rest of us.” He nods, stepping forward to take said prick from me, who just sneers at me. From the corner of my eye, I see Jay, quietly whispering something to the girl before another guy comes and takes her too. I lock eyes with her and hope that she’ll be okay.
After Tank and the other guy lead the two of them away, I look at Jay and see he knows exactly what I’m thinking. We slink back into the crowd and slowly make our way to the exit.
Like I said, the beauty of this place is only skin deep and what lies beneath, is dark and rotten to the core. The fact that this place caters to the more respectable members of this city means nothing. If anything, it speaks volumes about just what money can buy you.
Depravity.
Debauchery.
Anything that lives outside the tight moral compass society is meant to live by.
Back in the car, Jay looks pissed, and not the smiley happy kind.
“Man, that was fucked up.” He rubs his hands down his face, stretching the skin below his eyes with the pressure from his fingertips. “Fuck. We should have let her go, man. We probably just signed her death warrant.”
“Hopefully not. Hopefully not,” I tell him, all the time praying it’s true.
