by Kali Brixton
“Hello, pretty girl. I was wondering if you were working tonight.”
I nod at him and draw myself a little closer, looking for a place in the song currently playing to start my routine. As the chorus starts, my hips begin to sway, setting in motion the rest of my body. If only there were a glass enclosure to put myself in, to be observed but not touched. If only people would play by the rules and not harass us dancers.
If only…
As I perform for Gerald and try to pretend I’m somewhere else far away from here, I catch a glimpse of Marco looking in the direction Eden went a while ago, his jaw locked tight and heavy arms banded across his chest. But instead of anger in his expression, worry seems to bury itself deep within it.
Maybe it’s the lighting or maybe I’m being paranoid, but why do I feel I just sent a lamb to the slaughter to pay for my sins?
Those who come to RISE to dance have many protective measures in place for them that we the Core Four didn’t at The Devil’s Playground. However, training them to handle their own in our self-defense classes wasn’t the be-all and end-all of keeping them safe, as there are some of our employees who have a daily battle against the demons residing within them…
And those are a lot harder to defeat.
“Anything we need to know about, gentlemen?”
“Nothing seems out of the ordinary,” Zeus replies, never taking his eyes from the screens as he peers through the blinds.
Washington shifts his weight from one leg to the other, his hands pulled behind his large back. “Is there anything in particular we should be watching out for?”
I think back to the conversation I had with Eden and Addy one night that Magnolia was off, not long after my last big conversation with Luca back in January. They had agreed to keep things hush-hush so long as there wasn’t anything to suggest Lia was in immediate danger, which given the few times I had talked to Luca about the Giacomo situation, there didn’t seem to be anything to worry about—for now. The next meeting we all had together, we convinced Lia that we needed to add to club security given how much the business had grown in the past couple of years. This also brought Colt, who’s built like a Belgian horse, and a few of the other men to RISE’s security team—one of the most valuable and desired assets in this establishment. However, only Zeus and Washington are in on the secret because they’re our eyes and ears in the security room.
I exhale sharply, a feeling of unease settling in. “Nothing as of right now, but we all know the fox waits until the farmer’s asleep to raid the henhouse.”
They both shake their heads in solemn agreement as Washington clears his throat. “We’ll keep an extra eye on the parking lot too.”
“If someone dealing with that little dickhead is going to try something, they’ll try to make it look like an accident at first. If nothing but to send a message as well as keep their hands as clean as possible,” Zeus deduces.
While it’s laughable to think about someone like Antonio or Giacomo trying to keep their hands clean because they both have their share of blood and grime on them, the guys are right. They’ll avoid detection at all costs or will use their most dedicated cronies to take the fall for them. So, in the meantime, we stay vigilant.
“What the...?” Zeus mutters as Colt bolts from the room, his chair spinning from his quick exit. We filter out of the meeting room quickly and catch a glimpse of what set Colt’s tail on fire. Mr. Hansel has Greer by the throat, pressing her against the wall, her feet only touching the ground by her toes as she struggles to loosen his grip. Instead of tapping into her training, she’s panicking, which sends the three of us galloping after the wild stallion on a rampage.
When we arrive at the partially open door, Greer is slumped against the wall and gasping for air as Colt pummels Hansel, the distinct sound of flesh meeting bone. I go to her as I instruct them to get Colt off of Hansel, who’s whimpering for help. Colt’s got a hell of a swing and the bastard crying on the floor deserves it, but we need him in our security room, not in a jail cell.
“Greer?” She flinches when I softly whisper her real name, pulling herself further against the wall as she gasps for air. “Honey, it’s me,” I say as I kneel before her, blocking the sight behind me.
The choking noises subside as she looks up at me with wild eyes, tears filling them. “I…I hit…the button.” She sobs into her hands, repeating I hit it over and over again. Her knees pull to her torso and she wraps those thin arms around them.
I rub my hands up and down her lower legs in soothing strokes, not wanting to cause her more alarm by caging in her arms or putting my hands near her throat or face. “It’s okay, honey. You’re safe now.”
Looking over my shoulder, I notice Washington is holding back Colt while Zeus has Hansel sitting in a seat, trying to block him from Colt’s murderous gaze. Washington’s eyes meet mine and I nod for him to bring Colt to me. “Greer, I’m going to have the guys take you back to get checked out with Madam Siren, all right?” Times like this are proof of why it’s good to have a nurse nearby, even though we’d rather not have “times like this.”
“Washington, will you help her up, please?” I ask as I pull Colt to the side. His face is red with anger but those big gray eyes of his are running over with concern as he watches Washington ease Greer up from her sitting position.
Oh yeah. He’s got it bad.
“Colt…” I make sure the firmness in my voice balances my concern for Greer. “I need you to take her to the locker room. Washington’s going to get Madam Siren to look her over. Don’t leave her alone, okay?”
“I won’t,” he grits out. Anger still rolls off him in waves, no doubt from wanting another go with Hansel.
My hand grips as much as of his bicep as it can handle, which gets him to meet my gaze. “She needs you to be calm and collected—not like this, or else, you’ll scare her worse.” His demeanor cools down considerably at my words. “Can you handle that or do I need to have Washington take her?”
He flicks his gray-eyed stare toward the strawberry blonde. “I can, but that asshole—“
“Will be dealt with—I can guarantee you that.”
His steel gaze meets mine and with a small nod of his head, he goes to Greer, who tucks herself into his side and allows him to escort her from the room.
“Madam Siren?” Washington questions.
“Yes, and if you see the other two, please let them know that we need to terminate Mr. Hansel’s membership as soon as they get a free moment.”
He grins slyly. “I take it you’ll be handling the other part of the ‘termination’?”
I only answer with a grin of my own.
He takes his leave as I walk toward Zeus and Hansel, who’s holding his handkerchief to his nose, slightly swaying, the smell of whiskey heavy on his person. “Zeus, I believe our guest needs some ice for his injury. Why don’t you take him to my room and I’ll make sure he gets the treatment he deserves?”
Zeus smirks. “Yes, ma’am.”
As he escorts a staggering Hansel out of the room, I walk over to where the hidden button is located and press it down. Instead of dimly lighting up to signal that security’s been alerted, the button stays dark. Strange. I’d better mention it to Zeus so he can get the guys to check it out immediately.
We definitely don’t want a repeat of this happening again.
I take my leave, closing the door behind me and making my way to my room, only to run into Eden.
“Washington just told us what happened. Lia’s going to check on Greer, and Addy’s going to pull up the contract and membership log in the office. Need me to do anything?”
I look at the door to my room, then back at her. “You may want to stop by security and make sure the cameras are working in my room. It’d be a shame if any footage were to get lost.”
She purses her lips to conceal her laughter, knowing that she’s in for a treat. “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”
“The worst,” I agree, runni
ng my hands over the white bodice of my bustier, which currently houses three knives of various sizes and a plan for revenge. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a client that needs to be taken care of. Properly.”
The silver-blue color scheme of my Tundra room along with the small fairy lights and various clear plastic touches scattered throughout help transform my domain into the perfect ice palace. A beautiful ruse for what this room is typically used for, as my guest is about to find out.
Walking into the room, I hear Zeus’s deep voice giving a semi-drunk Hansel orders to quit squirming and to stay still until I tell him otherwise. My aerial silks hang gracefully from the reinforced beam in the ceiling a few feet from the seat and are carefully tied to the wall, itching for the chance to be used. Unfortunately, they’ll have to wait until later when I can have some alone time to practice. For the time being, school’s now in session and I have some lessons to teach a defiant student.
“Mr. Hansel, I see my friend has helped you get more comfortable,” I muse, taking in the leather cuffs that now bind his hands to the wooden armrests and his ankles to the chair legs, spreading them apart for my pleasure. A ball gag protrudes from his mouth, carefully padded to not leave any marks, and muffles the angry sounds coming from him in protest. He jerks against the bonds that Zeus placed upon his warm olive skin, ruffling his paper-thin ego and bringing a smile to my deep crimson pout. Our mighty god of security stands over in the corner behind him, stifling a laugh, no doubt amused.
I saunter over to the chair, watching him still long enough to take in the sexy gait I’ve honed and perfected over my years here at the club. My long silvery white wig sways against my back and my ice blue contact-covered eyes lock onto his pale brown ones, emitting the promise of a good time—one that I’ll be having by my lonesome.
Strolling by the chair he sits in, a chair reserved for only my most special clients, I take my place behind him, letting him feel the anticipation of what’s to come—or at least what he thinks is. Trailing my hands down his shoulders to his firm stomach, then raking my fingernails firmly back up his dress shirt, I lower my mouth to his ear and whisper, “I’m going to send Zeus away so we can start our playtime. Okay?”
No longer fighting against the restraints, he jerks his head up and down.
I laugh to myself. You’re gonna regret that answer. “Zeus, would you care to step out for a moment?”
He makes his way to the door with me in tow. Before leaving the room, I cast Hansel a glance over my shoulder, and throw him a wink.
Out in the hall, Zeus levels his stare at me. “You need me to stay?”
“If you will, go check the panic button in the room Greer was using. I don’t think it’s working correctly. We probably need to check all of the rooms, just in case.” I stretch my arms and limber up a bit, cracking my neck twice. “I’ve got a show to perform.”
Zeus’s rich laugh echoes down the hall as he leaves. “Knock ‘em dead, boss lady.”
Re-entering the room, I see Hansel sitting quietly, awaiting my arrival. Clicking the lock on the door in place, I grin as I make my way back to him, the same sexy gait as before. “Mr. Hansel, I see that you’re a client who has specific tastes.” If that tent in the front of his pants is any indicator, I’d say he’s enjoying himself so far. “As you can see, so do I.”
The remote for the sound system in my room clicks, filtering my playlist through it from the last time I practiced on my silks. Tate McRae gives me a beat to begin, and my hips start to sway and figure-eight to the intoxicating sound. Now this fucker’s gonna learn what happens when the grit and grime of life try to sandpaper your shine and ends up sharpening your claws.
I let the music move through me, guiding every movement as I slink toward him, channeling the inner vixen buried deep within the layers of snow. My hands smooth over my curves, his hungry eyes following their sensual paths up and down, up and down as I draw closer. When only five feet separate us, I lower myself to my knees and crawl, prowling toward my prey. His reaction is exactly what I had hoped for—half-lidded eyes, an erection begging to break free, and his body straining against the cuffs, which aren’t giving him an inch.
Perfection.
His legs serve as ladders to climb, helping me to rise out of the floor while giving me a chance to draw him in deeper. My eyes never leave his as I skate my fingers over his thighs as his lower half juts toward me, aching for my teasing touch. My cleavage is now on full display as I lean over him, smoothing my left hand over his stomach, then his chest as my right frees my weapon from its hidden compartment. Bringing my face to his, I trill my tongue to make soft purring sounds. He bucks against the restraints, unable to break free, as a smile settles into the lines of my face.
“Do you like the sounds I make for you, Mr. Hansel?”
His enthusiasm is apparent in the way he moves his head and his body.
My left hand traces his collarbone as I circle around him, using his lack of vision behind us to flick open my balisong and ready it for battle.
My feet come full circle to bring me before him again, Osiris hidden safely behind my back.
“I suppose you’d love for me to be your personal sex kitten.”
“Mmmm! Mmmhmm!” His pathetic whimpers fuel my seething rage at what he did to Greer.
“Hmmm. That’s just such a shame because I’m no kitten, Mr. Hansel.” The knife emerges as I stand up straight, glinting in the light. I swing Osiris into a Cherry Picker, his mesmerized gaze giving way to fear when he realizes I’m rolling around a knife precariously above his junk. The purr to my sugary voice now steps aside for a deeper growl, fury slowly unleashing as the weapon comes to rest in my hand, the shiny blade now exposed and full of menace. “I’m a motherfucking tigress who could slit your throat with one swipe of my blade, then watch you bleed out for the hell of it with a smile on my face.”
Ignoring his confused stare and his widening eyes, I slowly lick the clean, dull side of Osiris for effect, before flipping in upside-down. I grunt as I slam into the special slit I had put into this chair, making it seem as though the blade’s now embedded—a trick I learned after my first few lessons as Madam Isis. Like I’d waste another good blade on these worthless piles of shit for a simple lesson in manners.
His hips retreat back as far as the chair back will allow him to go and his quickly deflating hard-on tries to escape the path of my knife. Bullseye. Panic is etched in his face as he continues to try and squirm away from the blades, no doubt fearing for his testicles, as he should.
My tone now drips with malice as I stand and tower over him. “You think you can come into this club, treat one of our girls the way you just treated her, and get away with it?” The back of my hand finds his face, now streaked with terror, and stings from the hard contact. Another crack resounds throughout the room as I hit him again.
He screams through the ball gag, as if his pathetic cries will actually get someone to come to his rescue.
I grab his jaw in a punishing vice grip and lower my lips to his left ear, whispering, “Keep screaming. It only makes me crave your pain more, you whiny bitch.”
He stills, tears now flowing over the leather straps of the gag.
“You ever put your disgusting hands on another woman like that again, not only will I see you rot in a jail cell, I’ll make sure you get placed with the horniest motherfucker in the joint and let him know you like it dry and rough while having your air cut off.” My fingers, now banded around his neck, tighten as his face grows red. “I’ll make sure you wish for death long before it catches up to your sorry, worn-out ass.”
He squirms, no doubt feeling the loss of oxygen, and gasps, only to find the ball gag blocking any attempts to take in the life-sustaining element. His eyes now bulge, the fear of never breathing again evident in their glassy gaze. He struggles against the padded leather cuffs that trap all four limbs, but it’s in vain. There’s no escape from this, just like Greer would’ve faced had Colt not been watchin
g her room so diligently.
I tighten my grip once more. “Is that what you want?”
He shakes his head, now blood red from forehead to chin. I release my hand on his throat and loosen the top strap of the ball gag, allowing it to slip enough for him to gulp in some much-desired air.
The sounds of his hurried gasps are drowned out by the music playing in the background, but I savor every last morsel of them.
I allow him to catch his breath until he starts to moan around the gag, then wrench his head back, securing the top once more to conceal his mouth. “As of this moment, you are officially no longer a member of this club. Nod if you understand.”
His head bobs furiously, the pungent smell of his urine now accompanies the large wet area on his pants.
“I suggest you look into other living arrangements too. Because I know where you live, asshole. Instead of letting the justice system have its way with you, I may just pay you a personal visit and finish what I’ve started if I ever hear of you repeating your mistake again.” My eyes travel down to Osiris, then flick back up to him. “Got it?”
With another quick, tearful nod of his head, I remove my balisong from the chair, the sound of metal gliding against mahogany a melody to my ears. Walking to the small cabinet holding the music dock, I make sure my back is turned toward a now-sobbing Hansel and smile into the hidden camera in the corner, signaling I need a cleanup crew to come and take this garbage out of my sight, far from this club.
Zeus and Washington enter with amusement dancing across their handsome faces and unstrap him. The two then take him out a side entrance away from the main club area and the rooms.
I snatch a towel from the cabinet and shine up Osiris, making sure he didn’t get any fluids on him from that vile piece of garbage. While the guys come in and take care of Mr. Hansel’s little “accident” he left behind, I leave my room to go check my wig and makeup in the locker room.
I pass by Eden and Addy, who are laughing and applauding from the entertainment I just provided them.
