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There’s no place a person can hide where they won’t eventually be found.
That’s what my father told me, and I have no reason not to believe him.
It’s made me a little too careful about every decision I make and what I do.
Ames calls it being boring. I think of it as being cautious.
But then she didn’t grow up with a father who watched people for a living, or honorary uncles who were so deep in the military that they may as well not have existed at all.
Lifting my eyes, I see Ames in the farthest cage from the stairs, a pair of black wings extending out from her back as she dances to the beat of the music. At the base of the steps leading up to her cage, Granger stands guard.
Almost anything goes on the top floor, so patrons are allowed to dance with the girls, but Granger has a habit of standing wherever Ames happens to be, a silent warning that nobody approach her.
Even now his eyes are locked on her, his expression a blank mask that prevents anyone from knowing what he’s thinking.
I work my way over to where he’s standing and tap him on the shoulder.
Turning his head, he cocks a brow at me but then presses two fingers to his lips to whistle loud enough to catch Ames’s attention.
When she sees me, a smile spreads across her face, and she hurries down.
“Hey! I thought you weren’t going to make it up here.”
Sweat drips down her skin, strands of her pale blue hair stuck to the side of her face. The edges of her wings brush Granger’s chest as she links her arm with mine and leads me to a bar that takes up a side wall.
When we’re out of earshot, I whisper-yell in her ear.
“He’s guarding you again.”
With a roll of her eyes, Ames pushes me to sit on a padded leather stool. Holding two fingers up at the bartender, she glances over her shoulder before meeting my eyes.
“Whatever keeps him off my back about being late. If a nice view of my ass is what he wants, I’ll give it to him. Plus, he’s driving me home tonight. He’s probably just making sure I don’t run off before he gets the chance.”
Not that you can see her ass. Well, not all of it. Ames traded the leather pants for shorts that hide nothing and a studded bra top, her wings strapped over her shoulders.
This is what a siren who lures sinful men into hell would look like.
“You’re leading him on way too much, Ames. He’s going to want to get serious if you keep this up.”
She shakes her head.
“We’re both adults. I’ve told him it’s just for fun. He has no problem with it.”
The bartender drops two mixed drinks in front of us. Wrapping my fingers over mine, I arch a brow at Ames.
“I have to drive in a little bit. Is it safe for me to drink this?”
She winks. “You’re all good. Bottoms up.”
I take a sip and relax to taste more juice than alcohol.
Behind us, people dance, a few couples heading back into the fetish rooms.
Ames catches me watching them, a knowing look in her eyes. There’s no way in hell I’d be caught dead in those rooms.
“One night, I’ll convince you to go back there. It’s definitely an experience.”
I laugh at that and return my attention to the drink in my hand.
