by KB Winters
If I wanted it? There was no damn question that I wanted it. The job paid five bucks more per hour than any of the others I’d interviewed for this past week. I grabbed my phone and returned the call immediately. My excitement, as always, was dampened by the fact that he didn’t pick up, and until he did, the job wasn’t mine. Not really. I called back and this time left a message.
“Joplin this is Hazel Greer, and I would love the job.” I knew the dance before I could start work. The paperwork to complete, IDs to photocopy and tax forms to fill out.
“But I got the job.”
The words seemed more real when they were spoken out loud. “I got the job. I got the fucking job!” Excitement bubbled to the surface as I clutched my phone in my hand, wishing like hell I had someone to celebrate with. I didn’t have those kinds of connections anymore. I used to have them back when I was a naïve teenager who thought the foster families that took me in actually gave a fuck about me, but life and experience had cured me of that pipedream. Quickly.
But I still had Jessie. She was my best friend from foster care. The other kids we’d been in the system with were scattered across the globe, living on different continents, locked up in prison, serving in the military or simply just trying to hide from their pasts.
I had plenty of neighbors, but they weren’t friends because I wasn’t friendly. Not to the couple on my left who seemed to spend all of their free time fucking, not the older couple to the right of me who smoked weed and danced to Big Band music every night after dinner. That meant it was just me and myself alone to celebrate dodging homelessness.
This month, anyway.
I punched in the speed dial to Jessie. Shit. Voicemail. “Hey girl I’ve got some great news! Call me when you get a chance.” I hit the end button and sighed. Jessie was always busy with her kids. She had a great life now.
And maybe I did, too.
Now that I had a job it was time to look at my budget, see what I had to work with until my first paycheck came. My two hundred bucks in the bank would have to last until then, but I hoped this exclusive club meant big fat tips, the kind that could buy late night snacks and maybe a beer after work.
The phone rang, and I answered immediately. “Hello?”
“Hazel? This is Joplin.” He was so stiff and formal I was put off, and since he couldn’t see me, I shrugged.
“Hi, Joplin. How’s it going?”
“It’s, uhm, going.” Okay so he wasn’t a big conversationalist. “You can come in any time before seven today to complete your paperwork, but we need you to start tomorrow night. Will that be a problem?”
“Not at all.” Tomorrow I’d have a job again, which meant I could buy a few groceries after completing my paperwork. “I’ll see you soon, Joplin.”
“Bring I.D.,” he growled into the phone.
I rolled my eyes, ignoring his attitude. “Anything else, Boss?”
“No.” His voice was low and deep, almost angry. He ended the call abruptly, but all I could do was grin. The man was surly as hell and just as quiet. Handsome. Tortured. He had secrets, that much was sure, but I wasn’t in the market for a mysterious tortured man with a stick up his ass. Hell, I wasn’t in the market at all.
And he was my boss, so totally off limits.
I rushed over to The Barn Door to take the grand tour and fill out all of the necessary paperwork before they changed their mind.
***
Standing in front of the two dollar full-length mirror I’d found at a rummage sale, I gave myself a once over, slightly impressed that I’d managed to pull myself together halfway decently. The little black dress used to fit a little bit better, but things had been more famine than feast lately and the dress was a little loose in all the wrong places.
It was times like this that I wished I placed more importance on creating connections because it would be really nice to have a friend I could borrow a dress from for tonight or get some feedback on the current outfit. Hell, if I had a few friends I might invite them along to use my employee pass. My free employee pass to The Barn Door. And since I didn’t start work until tomorrow night, I planned to take full advantage of tonight.
Discreetly.
I wanted to go and get rid of some of the stress hanging around my shoulders that made me look older than my twenty-six years. However, I didn’t want this to be an open invitation to all the men I worked with. The women too, since I didn’t know any of them or how they rolled. They could be complete bitches for all I knew. That was why I wore extra heavy makeup and a short blonde bob wig, hoping it was enough to hide my identity from everyone but the dude at the door.
Luckily for me, when I showed up at the club, the guy at the door didn’t recognize me. He didn’t bat an eyelash as he scanned the card and let me into the club. The music was so loud, so pulsing that I couldn’t hear myself think, couldn’t feel the rush of blood through my veins, and that was exactly what I was after. A night full of distractions and maybe an orgasm or two.
But first, I needed a drink. Just one drink to loosen me up and put an appropriate haze on the evening. Since the bar I would be manning tomorrow was closest, I stood at the edge and waited for the gorgeous bartender to wait on me. He was big as shit with wide shoulders, long brown hair and a scruffy beard that said he wasn’t ashamed to get down and dirty. “What can I get ya, sweetheart?”
Yeah, I’d bet my next paycheck he was ten kinds of trouble, twenty on Saturday.
“An old fashioned, please.” He blinked, clearly unaware of the drink.
“Help me out honey, our new bartender doesn’t start until tomorrow.”
All right, then. “Put a sugar cube in a glass and let the bitters drip with a splash of plain water, muddle until its dissolved. Add ice and pour an ounce and a half of bourbon in and serve.” The guy nodded and motioned for me to follow him to the other end of the bar and I did.
“I’m Slayer,” he said, his tone friendly and open as he scanned the shelves for bourbon and bitters. If he was helping out, then chances were he was friends with Gunnar or Joplin. Maybe even had a different job here at the club. “That wig isn’t hiding shit, honey.”
His words registered a half a beat late and I blinked up at him. “Excuse me?”
“The blonde wig. It’s hot, but it’s not doing a damn thing to hide who you are.”
“What?” I shouted to him over the thumping bass.
He tossed his head back and laughed, showing off full lips, a strong chin and an Adam’s apple that would have any woman licking her lips. “It’s called being discreet. Hazel.”
I took a step back, eyes wide and suddenly feeling like I’d walked into the fucking Twilight Zone. “Forget the drink. Thanks.” So much for a night of relaxation.
“Hey! Wait! I work the ranch and help out here sometimes.” His hand landed on my shoulder, and I shrugged him off because big and handsome or not, he was a stranger. “Sorry.”
“That doesn’t explain how you know my name.”
He sighed. “I saw you when you came in earlier to fill out your paperwork. Asked Gunnar who you were.”
“Well fuck me.”
His chuckle sounded rich and deep, even with the dance beat vibrating every molecule of my body. “I’ve seen worse. You don’t even look legal.”
“Thanks,” I glared.
Slayer laughed again. “Anytime. I tell you what, come monitor the drink and I promise not to tell anyone you’re here.”
“Deal.”
Only time would tell if Slayer was someone I could trust, but if he did tell, it was no big deal. My private life was my own, dammit.
“Is it always like this?” The place was already pretty damn packed, at least the dance floor was, but there wasn’t a whole lot of dancing. Mostly everyone was half-naked or more, bumping and grinding on one another. It was foreplay to music, and I had no problem with that.
“Friday and Saturday are the craziest,” he said, nodding at the sugar cube in the glass, sighing when I gave
a satisfied nod. “We’ll throw you right into the deep end. Old Fashioned.”
“Thanks Slayer. You might have a future as a bartender after all.” I grabbed the glass, took a sip and sauntered off, determined to enjoy my night for the next couple of hours.
With the bourbon flowing through my veins, the sexy Latin dance beat made my hips swirl with every step as the music soaked into my bloodstream. The back dance floor, complete with a six-foot high stage, was even more crowded than the front. The bar was three people deep, stopping me dead in my tracks.
“Nope.” I turned away down another dimly lit hall that led to a spiral stairway with a soft velvet bannister, which hadn’t been part of the new employee tour.
Big black doors on each side of the hallway gave the downstairs area an eerie, horror movie vibe. Until I stopped in front of what looked like a big ass window and pressed the black button on the wall, because holy fucking shit, this is what I came here for.
A woman lay spread-eagle on a bed, bound by her hands and ankles with silk scarves, a black blindfold covering her eyes so she could feel everything. Four men stood around the bed, stroking already hard cocks and looking at her with fire in their eyes. The first guy knelt beside the bed and swiped his tongue over one dusky pink nipple and the woman gasped and arched into him.
He laughed.
The man opposite him did the same while the third stretched half on and half off the bed, shoulders pushing her legs so far apart I could see the slickness on her pussy lips from here.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he growled a second before he closed his eyes and put his mouth on her, feasting on her pussy like she was a seven-course gourmet meal. It was enough to make a girl jealous.
To make a girl shiver with desire. Hell, who am I kidding, my pussy was so wet and aching and that was before the fourth guy straddled her shoulders and fed her his cock.
A strangled groan escaped, and I took a step back before I did something foolish before my job technically started. I liked to wait until I had something to lose before I fucked up irrevocably. But fuck, I’d love to be in her position.
I wandered to the next room, set up strictly for those who liked to be watched, with auditorium seats all around a big stage with an even bigger bed.
Inside another room I happened upon a man and two women. One of the women was strapped naked to a St. Andrew’s Cross, with a ball gag in her mouth. She shivered while the couple knelt before her, giving her a two-tongue salute. All she could do was take the erotic torture and let her moans do all the work, tied as she was to the structure. The scene was enough to make me wish I’d left my panties at home because they were soaked, and I hadn’t even made it to the end of the hall yet.
I didn’t join in with any of the kinky fun being had all around me, but I was happy to find this place. My place. The other rooms had me intrigued enough to keep going but when I got to the final room, the big velvet room, I couldn’t help but stop.
Watch.
Enjoy.
The whole group was naked, a rainbow of skin tones ranging from the palest white to the darkest mahogany and every shade in between from English rose to butterscotch brown: three women and four men in various stages of ecstasy. One woman sat on a man’s face, rolling and grinding her hips while she took a cock down her throat. They were all connected by one erotic act or another. Another woman was flat on her back while the redhead ate her out and took a cock from behind, moaning into her pussy.
The door wasn’t open but even still, I swear I could inhale the scent of sex in the air. Damp skin, the thick musk of arousal and sweat, the desperate strain to receive more pleasure, it all had a unique scent. The kind that stuck to your skin and your hair, didn’t go away for days and days.
As much as my fingers itched to join in, to strip down and close my eyes and let pleasure take me over, though it was exactly what I needed, I knew it was too soon.
I wasn’t ready.
But when I was ready, this room was where I would start.
Chapter Five
Saint
The dream was back. It was always the same fucking dream, too. I was back in Afghanistan with my squad. Jerry “Jank” Jankowski was the guy in charge. He only acted like a Staff Sergeant when he sat beside Higgs barking out orders and directions.
Derek “Higgs” Higgins was my best friend and the guy behind the wheel of the tank as we traipsed all over the goddamn desert in search of invisible enemies. Pony Boy was what we called the hired gun. The man could handle anything with a firing pin or trigger. He got his nickname thanks to his love of jeans, white t-shirts, and black leather jackets. Pony Boy was our eyes and ears, and I was the intel, talking to villagers and police officers alike trying to keep the area safe.
Usually we had another guy with us called Polo, a blue blood Army legacy who spoke eight different languages. He’d been given to another unit with an embedded journalist that day.
Lucky bastard.
We drove along the dirt road in the southwest part of the country that bordered Pakistan, necks on a swivel on our way to look into a compound rumored to belong to a terrorist the U.S. government had deemed a BFD.
“What makes this asshole a big fucking deal, anyway?” Higgs shouted the question over one of Jank’s crude jokes.
Jank rolled his eyes, insulted someone had stepped on his salty joke. “The fact that he’s an explosives expert and a former chemistry professor. Allegedly.”
“Shit.” Pony Boy said the words we were all thinking. “Sounds like a fuckin’ wild goose chase to me,” he said and returned to his position behind the gun.
“He ain’t wrong,” I added when the tank fell silent. “This compound is made up of half a dozen structures with underground tunnels that lead to the mountains about forty kilometers away.”
From the beginning this sounded like a shit show, but watching it play in a dream was absolute fucking torture because I knew how it would all end. Knew that Pony Boy was right.
Knew that in the end, none of that knowledge or righteousness mattered one fucking bit.
We were about ten kilometers from the compound when Pony Boy’s voice rang out. “Think I caught a glare at four o’clock,” he shouted. “I’m checking it out.” Those were Pony Boy’s the last words before the shooting began.
It came suddenly, the gunshots fired from a distance, which meant the glare Pony Boy saw was exactly what he thought it was. Trouble for our squad, the kind of trouble that usually ended with no survivors or a bunch of damn medals.
The shots came from the right. At first. When bullets went flying, it didn’t matter than that the tank was thick enough to withstand the onslaught, I fucking dropped down as far as I could while I readied my weapon.
“I got two on the ridge at two o’clock!” There were two men in white, one with a… “Fuck! RPG!”
We were hit hard as fuck from the right but we were still upright and Higgs still had control of the vehicle. “Pony Boy, you all right?”
A long silence fell over the valley, at least it felt long but it was only a matter of seconds before more bullets went flying right at us. Jank was hit first and immediately slumped over.
“Fuck, they got Jank!”
Higgs freaked out but he kept driving, glancing occasionally at our Sergeant and his lifeless eyes. “Jank! Fuck!”
From above, Pony Boy kept shooting and shooting, the hot shells falling everywhere, and that day was well over one hundred degrees even in the fucking shade, but it was nothing compared to those casings.
Another RPG sounded in the distance and we couldn’t do anything in this position but brace ourselves for impact. When it came, the whole tank slid about twenty feet before tipping into a ditch, leaving us completely immobile.
Higgs and I jumped out and rounded the tank, using it for cover once we made sure there were no other shooters on our side of the valley. When Pony Boy didn’t join us, I knew something was wrong.
“I’ll check on Pony,” I told Higg
s and patted his shoulder.
“I’ll hold these fuckers. See if you can get Command on the line.”
I nodded my agreement, but my focus on was our potentially fallen man and when I found him, I knew what real terror was. Nearly split in half from the impact of the tank tipping over, Pony Boy stared up at the sun with blank eyes as all the blood drained from his body.
“Fuck! No, no, no.” This couldn’t be happening, not Pony Boy. Not today. Not fucking today.
“Get your ass back here, Saint!”
Higgs was on his own and outgunned and now it was just the two of us.
“Pony Boy’s gone. Gruesome shit. Let’s get these fuckers.” It was the kind of blind rage they tried to train out of me during my time in the military, that instinct to seek revenge at all costs. It was a human trait but also deadly.
“Fuck, yeah,” Higgs shouted back, an angry wild-eyed grin on his face. With our weapons aimed across the valley, we used all the ammo we could to stop them from advancing on us.
“I’m out,” Higgs announced when the shooting had stopped again.
“Fuck. Check Jank and Pony.” It was macabre but that was war. It wasn’t pretty or civil. It was violent and brutal and no one got out unscathed.
The next thing I remembered was Higgs crying out and me rushing to his side. “I’m hit, Saint.”
“I see that, Captain Obvious. Where?” Jank’s blood was all over him, making it damn difficult to see which blood was his and where it came from.
“Too. Many.” His words were already labored and before I could get his jacket off to check him, he coughed up blood right in my face, all down my uniform. Grabbing him by the collar, I dragged Higgs behind the tank when those fuckers started shooting again.
I had to return fire. It was the only way we’d have a chance in hell of getting out of there alive. When I looked back at Higgs, he was face down in the sand. Unmoving.
