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He was acting like The Peach Pit was a damn brothel and he was the pimp. Fuck that.
“She’s retired from dancing. I’m not okay with her getting naked in front of other men.”
“She will do what I tell her to do.”
Finn cocked an eyebrow. “That’s my job, not yours. She’s a top-notch manager and you could never replace her. That’s what you pay her for.”
“Didn’t hear me askin’ your fuckin’ opinion. You wanna be in this club, you keep that shit to yourself. If you can’t, then you know where the fuckin’ door is.”
“When it comes to MJ, I have a say as her man. You should know how that is.”
“How long have you been her man? A fuckin’ second?”
“Longer than that. I’m sure you can understand what it means when I say I claimed her.”
Saint stared at him, then his gaze sliced to Mel, held for a few seconds, then came back to Finn. “When she’s here, her ass belongs to me. When she’s out there, it belongs to you. You don’t like it, you can get the fuck outta here and take her with you.”
Mel slipped her right arm around his back, planted her left hand on his gut and leaned into him. She turned her face up to him and away from Saint, widening her eyes slightly, but enough for him to notice. “Honey, it’s okay. I need this job.” She patted his stomach.
That was a good reminder to back off. Finn was too close to getting his ass kicked out and that would defeat the whole purpose of playing Mel’s boyfriend.
He shoved down his rising annoyance. “You’re right, baby. I know you need that money. You just know how much I hate sharing you.”
She got up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “It’s just business.” She released him but didn’t move away from his side.
“She’ll be rakin’ in a whole lot more with her time in the VIP room.” Saint smirked and raked his gaze over Mel. “Might have to book a lap dance for myself.”
Fucking motherfucker.
His nostrils flared and he choked down the words on the edge of exploding from him.
She isn’t your real girlfriend, dummy.
“Might even be addin’ some more options to the VIP room menu. The more scratch a customer’s willin’ to part with, the more he’ll get.” Saint stared at Finn, waiting for a reaction.
He struggled to keep his face a blank mask. “The girls should have the option on how far they’re willing to go.”
“They got options. It’s called a fuckin’ door. They can stay or go. That’s it.”
“You’re going to lose dancers,” Finn warned, not wanting any of the girls to be in a situation where what they do could be considered prostitution. It could not only get them in hot water, but get the club shut down, putting them all out of work.
“Then I’ll fuckin’ replace them. Now,” the Demon turned to Mel. “Go work on partin’ these men from their money. Nobody should leave here without an empty wallet.”
With a last look at Finn, Mel nodded and turned. When she did, Saint smacked her ass so hard, the slap could be heard over the music.
Mel jerked forward, but caught herself. It took her a second or two to shake it off and after inhaling deeply, she strode away.
Finn was damn sure if she had a gun, that motherfucker would have an extra hole dead center in his forehead.
He was tempted to put one there himself. The only thing holding him back was he knew karma would eventually make herself known to the Deadly Demons and he’d be the one to help introduce them.
Saint’s smirk widened. “She got a tight snatch?”
Finn turned his attention back to the asshole biker. “You’ll never fucking know.”
The Demon’s grin disappeared and he took a step closer. “Givin’ you two options, too. Stay or go. You stay, you better be spendin’ some scratch. You don’t, you’ll be goin’ with some help from my bouncers. You got me?”
Finn met the asshole’s eyes and held them. He counted to ten in his head before responding. “Yeah. Hear you loud and clear.”
Chapter Sixteen
Only two vehicles were parked in the employee lot behind the club this morning. No, three. How could he forget the stash van sitting there like a sore thumb?
He punched in the four-digit code and waited for the lock to click. As soon as he yanked open the door, he heard it.
Music. Not quite as loud as when a DJ was in the booth, but loud enough to hear strains of it all the way at the rear of the building.
Tomorrow he would start dropping her off at work and taking her home, just what a controlling boyfriend would do.
The office door was open, but the lights were off. The same for the dressing room.
