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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
*Baylor “Bae” Secretary*
Light from scattered street lamps and the rove of traffic morphs into a rainbow disco and house music as the saloon doors seal me inside. Rosco, our main bouncer, lifts his chin at me, his flattened and hard eyes only sparing me a second before boring into the entry door again.
Kris, always watchful from the DJ booth as customers enter and exit, bobs her head at me next, in rhythm to the electronic beats. For this being such a western themed club, it always amuses me that very little to no country music is played.
“Hey, sugar.” A light pressure on my forearms pairs with a lyrical, feminine tone as a woman addresses me seductively over the loud music and conversation.
I turn toward her and casually step just far enough away so that her hand falls. “Snow, right?
“Sure.” She presses her bright red lips together then lets them slowly peel apart and open slightly.
“Shift going well tonight?” I inquire.
Her brown eyes, nearly nothing more than slits beneath clunky fake eyelashes, do a slow scan of my body before she states, “Could be better.”
Ready to be done with this conversation, I lift my hand to her face and drag my thumb along her jaw. “How about I put in a word with Kal to take a percentage off your house fee tonight?”
She nods slowly, easily manipulated by the simple touch and my chosen tone of voice. “Good girl. Now, go make us a buck.”
Before she can suggest anything else, I drop my hand and leave her standing there, quickly making my way through the rest of the room, into the hallway, and through the office door.
“Took you long enough,” Kal states. The impatient tone is quite the opposite of his nonchalant posture, though. Kal is leaning back in the office chair, boot propped up on the desk, fingers twirling a pen.
“What can I say? Babysitting grown men takes a while sometimes.” I love my position as secretary when things start getting tactical; being at the center of a communication web gives me the ultimate sense of power fulfillment. Even if, on the best of days, mediating between everyone involved is like managing a damn circus.
When Kal called me with news of a meeting, he explained that Coty was already in the know and could be used as one of our eyes wherever I should see fit. Feeling a little sorry for the guy but also seeing the humor amid all this dreariness, I told him to keep an eye on Lace. From afar. Zane would be the lucky bastard to stay with her tonight.
As expected, aside from Vee and Coty, every other HFL officer is here, ready to hear what Kal is finally willing to lay out on the table. Kio must have gotten here not too long before me, because he is still walking around the room with a bug detector in hand, scanning every nook and crevice as per protocol before every meeting.
Excitement, for lack of a better word, is high. The intensity is heightened by the fact that we are all geared up from gaiters to boots, ready to hotfoot it should the sudden need arise.
I ease down onto the couch next to Chaz. Something pricks me in the thigh through my jeans. With a hiss and twitch, I lift my ass to the side and dig my finger into the spot. After plucking the object free, I hold up the small shard of broken glass, toss the piece into the garbage, lean back, and drop my head onto the backrest of the couch, my eyes drifting upward toward the tin ceiling.
Something different about the mirror that is usually above the couch catches my eye en route, though. I sit up straight again and angle around to look up at it. No mirror. Just a frame.
With shifty eyes, I turn my focus to Kal. “You fuck some girl hard and fast up against the wall or something?”
Kal quirks up his mouth to the side. “Maybe. Want to hear about that or what I called this meeting for?”
“You call the shots, Prez.”
Chaz laughs. “Hey, I am more than happy to change into pajamas, dish and giggle and shit. No shame here. Should I go get a bottle of wine from the bar?”
Kio powers off the bug detector and announces, “All good,” with absolutely zero amusement in his tone. He moves the visitor chair farther away from the desk, and sits down, back straight with his hands on his knees.
“Dude, loosen the fuck up. Jesus,” Chaz sneers at him. “Fucking mood killer, I swear.”
Kal clears his throat, slams the pen down, leans forward, props his elbows on top of the desk, and addresses me. “Since our numbers are slimmer than usual, in lieu of roll call, brief us on what all of our players are up to right now.”
I scan the armrest for more glass before leaning my forearm on it. Starting with the most important first, I reply: “Zane and Coty are keeping an eye on Lace. Zane checked in right before I got here, said they were just hanging out, ‘having a drink and stuff.’ Coty is giving me the silent treatment, but I did manage to get a thumbs up emoji out of him.”
Kal and Chaz huff out brief laughs, always amused at his expense. I continue. “Brodi and Vee are sitting ducks at the townhouse. Brodi is bored and being a little neurodivergent twat. According to the last update he sent me, nothing has changed since Kio left there, including Vee.”
Brodi was given two assignments. Watch Jess, but watch Vee, too. Tranquilize him if necessary. We all know he is about to break. Just a matter of when.
“Last but not least, Revelry has the streets handled. I reached out to Jude and had him get the Midnight Runners to watch the county lines, too, just in case. Got a nasty text from Crow once he found out. Nothing more to it, though; he just had to let his attitude breathe a bit. He then reluctantly let me know that a handful of Stoners were seen driving into their downtown clubhouse.”
