Men of Mayhem

by Anthology

  I watched as Alex touched up her lip gloss, adjusted her boobs for maximum cleavage, and shifted toward the door just as it opened. We got out of the car, and Alex handed him a tip as she passed before grabbing my hand. She walked right up to the line where women of all shapes, sizes, and colors turned to look at us. The bouncers practically tripped over themselves to open the velvet rope and let us in. I heard a few snickers and snide comments from the ladies waiting in line, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to see what the fuss was all about.

  The club vibrated with sound, wall to wall people dancing to the music that shook the floor. Alex bobbed every now and again to the beat as she glanced around, getting a good look at her surroundings.

  She found an unoccupied couch on the opposite side of the room. It overlooked the dance floor and had easy access to the bar. I sat down with her, my purse in my lap, clutching it with a death grip to my legs.

  “Do you want a drink?” she asked, and I nodded.

  She walked off toward the bar as I sat there protecting that little space of couch we occupied. I’m sure I looked out of place. As I glanced around the room, careful not to make eye contact, I noticed the women who weren’t on the dance floor were grinding on men, sitting on the various couches looking like they would start having sex any minute. I didn’t get it, maybe because I’d been raised to handle myself with decorum. It isn’t like we lived in glass bubbles, we just never did anything stupid or reckless.

  There were people out there, paparazzi types, who were ready to catch us in something. Which is another reason why I kept to myself or to my close-knit group of friends and family. The last thing I wanted was to be involved in a scandal and become national fodder for late night talk show hosts, or worse, online tabloid websites. I had known at a young age to always watch what went on around us, since my mother had made a name for herself in the fashion industry, and Dad was the attorney general.

  Alex made it back to me with her signature Sex on the Beach, carrying my Pink Lady in her other hand. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but when I went out I preferred a drink that had less alcohol. I took a hearty sip, enjoying the perfectly fruity taste.

  “See anyone interesting?” Alex asked as she sipped the straw that bobbed out of her glass tumbler.

  “I haven’t really looked around. Well, except to the left there’s a couple that looked like they were going to have sex right there on the couch.” I snorted, taking another sip of my drink.

  Alex turned and gasped. “Some people have no class.”

  “Maybe we just have too much class, and don’t get all this.” I gestured to the rest of the room.

  She huffed loudly, vocalizing her irritation. “We belong here. We’re hot, we’re single, and this place was made for us. It’s time you realize it. You’re only twenty-three. You need to experience this in its entirety. You’ve got to live, bitch, live!”

  “You know you just called me a bitch, right?” I gave her a confused glance.

  “You’re my homie, you’re my bitch, you’re my baby sister, and you’re everything, Chris. I’m determined that tonight is going to be the most unforgettable, incredible night of your life.”

  Alex always had good intentions, which normally had me curled up on the couch in my living room binge-watching an Atlanta Housewives marathon while indulging in a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream, while she went off on one of her sexcapades. I wished that were the case now.

  Downing the rest of her drink, Alex set her empty glass on the table in front of us before turning back to me. Noticing my glass was a little less than half-full, she cocked her head and sighed.

  “Look, I’m going to go out and find a man to dance with. Finish your drink. Hopefully, it will loosen you up a little bit. If not, get a second, and then come find me or I’ll find you. We’re going to make tonight our bitch.” She cheered as she jumped up and shook her ass down the stairs toward the dance floor.

  I laughed. Even though I wasn’t ready to admit it to her out loud, she was right.

  Nicholas

  My hand flew straight toward the face of the man who stood before me. His head rocked back and to the left, sputtering blood all over the basement wall.

  “You really think you could steal from me and I wouldn’t find out about it?” I yelled. Derrick had betrayed the family.

  “I…I…I’m sorry, Nico…”

  Before he could finish his sorry excuse for a lie, I rocked him with another punch to his jaw. This time he stumbled backward and fell to his ass, clutching his face.

  “I don’t have time for lies, nor do I want to hear your excuses. You’ve skimmed almost a quarter of a million dollars from my club and you have the audacity to think you have any justification for doing so? I don’t even know why I would even waste my fists on you. You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as me.” Pulling out my gun, I didn’t think twice before I sent one bullet through his head.

  I watched as he slumped over and took his last breath, satisfied it was over. I turned to the guys who were standing around me, watching.

  “Does anyone know where the money went?” I asked, glancing at each of them.

  “Seems he had a drug and girl problem, boss,” Bobby replied.

  “Of course he did.”

  “He had several properties and cars. We could leverage them to get the money back.”

  “Knowing he won’t be stealing anymore is enough for me,” I snapped. “Feel free to do what you want with the rest. Make sure you call to have this cleaned up. I don’t want him found.”

  Slipping my gun back into my shoulder holster, I turned and walked up the back stairs to my club. Stepping into Prima Vista through the back room, I blended in with my employees who were wandering around taking care of various things. I nodded to one of the bouncers as I passed through the secured door and up the stairs to my office. Once safely inside, I took a seat behind my desk. Powering up my computer, I went into the program so I could check on the sales for the night.

  Looking at each of the three bars housed in my place, I saw that the bar on the third tier wasn’t doing much business. I picked up the phone and called Joey, one of my line guys on the floor.

  “Boss?”

  “Joey, what’s the deal with bar three?” I asked.

  “Got a private party up here. They got bottle service about two hours ago.”

  “That’s unacceptable. They either turn over the bottle faster or they start buying more alcohol. Either that, or I’ll open up the third floor to everyone. I’m sure there’s a line of people outside wanting to come in here and get drunk.”

  “Sir, he’s one of the Wash—”

  “I don’t give a fuck if he’s the President of the United States. I’m a businessman, and my business thrives because people are here buying alcohol. If I let some rich motherfucker sit in my place and take up valuable real estate while he doesn’t pay for the right to be here, I might as well just close the place down. You either tell him to abide by the rules, or he gets the fuck out,” I screamed into the phone.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll tell him.”

  I hung up. My office door opened and Luke walked in with an expression of annoyance on his face.

  “I could hear you yelling downstairs.”

  “Good, because I’m pissed.”

  Luke walked over to my desk with his hand out, holding a piece of paper. I took it from him and opened it up.

  “We’re doing amazing numbers at the door even with it being ladies’ night. There’re at least a hundred outside waiting to get it.”

  “They may be in sooner than expected. Some asshole has been keeping bar three private and hasn’t had a bottle in two hours. The bar is doing zero business up there.”

  “Do you need me to go up?”

  “No, that’s why you heard me yelling. Joey’s relaying the information for me. I told him to tell that entitled bastard to either start buying or get the fuck out.”

  “I don’t understand why they’d let
that go on. They know the rules.”

  “Obviously not. Make sure they learn them again, or no more private parties. This night was important. I wanted to see if we could give the ladies a night free with the rest handled. Even though the numbers are fucking awesome, they could be better.”

  My desk phone rang, and I reached for the receiver.

  “Yeah?”

  “Boss, he’s leaving. Said a few things, his entourage said a few things. I’m having them escorted out now.”

  “Good, make sure all of them get ID’d. I don’t ever want them to step in here again.”

  “Already done.”

  I hung up the phone and stood quickly away from my desk. I walked over and stood at the two-way mirror that surrounded the whole length of my floor. I kept my gaze focused on the far wall and watched as the party of assholes was led down the stairs and out of the club.

  “Ah, damn. Is that the football player…Sam something?” Luke asked.

  “Yeah, he’s lucky. I should have gone up there and introduced my fist to his face.”

  “We don’t need that at all, Nico.”

  “I know, I’m just…I don’t know, still pissed about this shit tonight.”

  “Sorry I didn’t catch what Derrick had done sooner, Nico. He had it hidden well. Who would have thought he could fix the invoices to look like we were getting shorted product?”

  “From now on, I need you or Bobby to do it. Don’t let anyone from the outside work on it anymore.”

  “Will do. So, you haven’t said anything,” Luke added, as I continued scanning my club.

  “Said anything about what?”

  Luke laughed a little, and I turned to see what was so funny. “Man, where is your head? Look.” He pointed behind me.

  Turning, I saw it. I didn’t know how I hadn’t noticed it before. In the middle of the floor by the far wall was a floor to ceiling pole with a platform.

  “There’s a stripper pole in my office.”

  “Yeah, for entertainment.”

  “Yours or mine?” I questioned.

  “Everyone’s.” He laughed.

  “Thanks, man.”

  “What are friends for?”

  I shook the hand of my oldest friend, one of the few people I trusted with my life. I knew he had my best interests in mind, and for him to put that pole in my office was fitting.

  A flash of something sparkly glowed to my right, and my eyes zeroed in on it. There, sitting on one of the couches, was a beautiful brown-haired woman who looked completely out of place. Even more so when a man slid onto the couch next to her. She glanced up, her eyes widening in surprise. I watched her mouth move, her head shake no before she moved away, but he followed.

  “I’m going to get a drink,” I said before heading out of my office and down the stairs.

  I made my way through the throngs of people as I watched her get up and head for the bar. I slowed my pace a little bit to observe. The guy on the couch glanced between the girl and his friends. The looks they shared didn’t seem right, so I watched for a moment as he shifted something in his hand.

  I gestured to one of my guys, and he stepped over to me.

  “That one on the couch,” I said. “And the group over there by the pillar. Escort them out, please. Before you do, have one of the door guys check them. They’re holding something, and I don’t think it’s legal.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  She remained at the bar, her gaze down as she stared intently at her girly pink drink as if frightened it would get up and walk away. I prepared myself with each step; I would introduce myself using my fake name, buy her a drink or two, and see where the night led us.

  I walked over and stood behind her for a minute. Her body stilled. I could smell the faint scent of vanilla coming from her hair. I walked in closer and stood shoulder to shoulder with her, watching her face flush and her fingers twist and twirl the straw in the glass.

  It’s okay, my beauty. You don’t need to be afraid of me.

  Christianna

  I wondered if they put something in the water to make men so rude. When the guy sat next to me, I told him I wasn’t interested, that I had a boyfriend even though I don’t. Finally I told him to go away, and when he moved closer to me, I figured the only safe place was at the bar surrounded by people. Maybe I could hint to one of the bartenders for help. They wouldn’t let me be harassed all night, right?

  When I asked for another drink, I took a chance to look around to see if I could find my sister. Alex had been dancing with a man who couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and it was intense watching them move across the floor. I felt like a voyeur, watching as they danced slow and seductive. Then I turned back around just as my drink was placed before me. I slid the man a twenty, telling him to keep the change as I took a hearty sip of the concoction.

  I felt a bump from the side and then another, which had me a little freaked out. In my college days, they lectured us about date rape drugs and how easy it would be to slip it into your drink. I always worried about that, especially in this setting. I wasn’t sure what anyone would do. I certainly didn’t want to take any chances.

  And then I felt something that I couldn’t describe, like a sensation of someone watching me and wanting me. I shifted before straightening as the feeling moved closer. I didn’t see him, but I didn’t need to. Whatever was happening between us seemed to be radiating off him in waves. I could smell him, a mix of rugged man and fresh laundry. I probably looked like a dope because I kept inhaling him repeatedly. Something desperate in me wanted to register his scent to my memory.

  I watched as he placed both hands on the bar, and I admired them for a second from the corner of my eye. They were big, and he wasn’t wearing a ring. He never said a single word nor gestured with his hands to the bartender but when I looked up I saw the bartender call out that he’d be right with him.

  I took another sip of my drink, twirling the straw again one final time.

  Well, at least the scenery is nice to look at, I thought, before setting my drink back down. I noticed a subtle movement to my right, and then the man leaned in a foot from my face and smiled.

  “Hello,” he said, and I turned slightly toward the sound of his voice. He had exquisite silvery gray eyes that seemed to twinkle as he looked intently at my face.

  “Hi.”

  “My name is Mason.” He extended his hand, and I slid my hand into his and shook it in return.

  “Christianna.”

  “Lovely name.” A green bottled beer was placed before him.

  “Thank you,” I said with a smile, his eyes still locked on mine.

  “So, Christianna, I’m not going to encounter a pissed off boyfriend while I’m standing with you, am I?”

  I giggled, then covered my face. “Um…no, no boyfriend.”

  “You’re not here alone, are you?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “No, not alone. My sister is out there dancing.”

  “And what, you don’t dance?”

  “I do dance, it’s just that this isn’t really me. I’m not a dance club kind of girl.”

  “I understand.” He took a swig of beer.

  “So what about you, Mason? Why aren’t you dancing?”

  He smiled, big and bright, before placing the now empty bottle on the bar. “Well, if I may be honest…”

  “Please.”

  “I was wondering where my night was going to take me and then a shimmer caught my eye. You. So I came over, and here I am. Would you care to dance with me?”

  “Okay.” I left my empty glass on the bar.

  “You should never leave your glass unoccupied. Bad things can happen,” he warned.

  “Oh, I know. I’m done with it.”

  Mason gestured with his hand and the glass and his bottle were scooped up by one of the bartenders.

  We glided out on the dance floor, the music and mood changing so rapidly, as if someone had created this moment just for our dance. Mason placed one of
his hands on the small of my back before using the other to place my hand on his bicep. I placed my other hand on his other arm.

  He didn’t dance close, the way the guys did in high school or the way the guys at frat parties did. Although he remained close enough so it looked to outsiders that we could possibly be a romantic couple. My gaze never left his face, my hands stroking and caressing the muscles of his forearms underneath his perfectly tailored jacket.

  The slow songs seemed to go on forever. I raised my hands to his shoulders before both of my hands rested softly at the back of his neck. As we danced, it started to feel as if we were in another place at another time. I didn’t see anything around us because my sole focus remained on him.

  Suddenly we were just standing in the middle of the dance floor. His hands gripped my waist harder than he’d ever touched me. When I finally snapped out of it, I noticed we were standing in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by a bevy of gyrating bodies and women who were rubbing up against him.

  Mason shielded me from the group, making his way through the throngs of people. He led me up a set of stairs that seemed a bit quieter than where we were. By the time I reached the top step his hold on me lessened and I was able to take in my surroundings. We seemed to be on another level of the club. I could still hear the music downstairs but it had gotten quieter and the softer music was playing up here.

  Leading me to a quiet corner, Mason tucked me into his side on the booth. I didn’t understand why he’d made this move though it made me feel a way I’d never felt before.

  “Would you like something to drink?” he asked while brushing the hair out of my face.

  “Yes, please.” I smiled, and he stood up and walked toward the bar.

  I watched as he spoke to the bartender while the drinks were being made. As soon as they were done, he walked back over to me, scooting in next to me. His eyes were only on me, and he only seemed interested in me. It shocked me, considering all the beautiful women surrounding us.

  “So, tell me about yourself,” he said. It seemed as if he genuinely wanted to know.