Rage slowly turned the door knob and cracked the door open enough to make sure the biker wasn’t facing the door. He wasn’t. He was fully focused on Luscious shaking her bare booty in his face.
He opened the door wider, hoping like fuck the hinges didn’t need any WD-40, then quietly slipped inside the room and softly closed the door to avoid any witnesses.
Besides Luscious.
He was so damn proud of how completely professional she was handling the situation. She didn’t give the Twisted Soul any unintended visual clues that someone had joined them in the room.
When their eyes briefly met, Rage gave her a signal to keep dancing but to back off a little so he had room to work.
A fully naked Luscious dropped to her knees in front of the biker, then spread the man’s thighs, acting like she was about to pull out his cock and give him that freebie hand job.
Rage’s jaws clenched when the Soul grabbed her head and shoved it in his lap while at the same time fucking with the zipper on his stained jeans.
Normally, customers weren’t allowed to touch the dancer unless she gave him permission. As well as a shitload of scratch. The club took a good portion of any private dances, but anything earned above and beyond the basic lap dance belonged to the women.
Rage didn’t encourage the women to do that, but he also didn’t discourage them from making any extra cash that would help feed her and her family.
As soon as Luscious broke free of the biker’s grip, Rage jumped into action and hooked his left arm around the asshole’s neck, jerking his chin up and exposing his throat. At the same time, his right hand swiped left to right, the freshly-made gap in his jugular making it easier for the Soul to breathe for about a half second.
At least until the gurgling started.
Rage leaned forward and murmured, “Thought you were so fuckin’ slick. Scopin’ out our shit so you bastards can try to take what’s ours for your own.” He straightened before he got any blood on him. “No risk of you spillin’ your guts to your club now, is there?” Only spilled blood.
What a fucking mess. But necessary to protect their MC and territory.
Rage wiped the bloody knife clean on the man’s T-shirt before snapping it shut and tucking it back in his pocket.
He glanced at the dancer and saw she was taking everything she just witnessed in stride.Thank fuck.“Turn off the music, get dressed, go clean up to make sure you don’t got even a drop of blood on you. Got it?”
Luscious nodded. She gathered what she’d been wearing out on the floor but didn’t put it back on. Instead, she held the balled-up dress to her chest and muttered, “Not sure this was worth a hundred bucks, boss.”
Rage cocked an eyebrow. “What’s it worth?”
“A year’s worth of fucking therapy.” With that, she shook her head and snuck out the door.
He glanced at the Soul in the chair, with his head fallen forward and still bleeding out. Yeah, he had no problem giving her more than a hundred bucksfor her effort.
Rage grabbed some towels from the room’s supply cabinet and placed them on the floor around the chair to sop up the blood already puddling and to help catch whatever the man’s clothes didn’t absorb.
“Stupid fuck,” Rage muttered and stepped back out into the hallway. He pointed at Gerbil, then jerked his thumb toward room three. “Don’t let anyone inside that room. Rooster!” When Rooster’s head peered around the wall, Rage ordered, “Send Pugsy into room three. Make sure no one else wanders back this way ’til we get this broken bottle of champagne cleaned the fuck up. With all the glass in there, someone might get cut.”
“On it.” Rooster’s head disappeared.
Pugsy appeared at the hallway entrance and lumbered Rage’s way.
Rage tipped his head toward the room. “Inside.”
As soon as the prospect crossed the threshold, he stopped short and Rage shut the door behind them.
“Holy fuck,” Pugsy muttered, taking in the scene.
“Your job’s to make sure every fuckin’ drop of blood is cleaned up. Not one damn drop of evidence can be left behind. That means you’re gonna burn everything. His wallet, every damn stitch of clothin’, those towels. Take that chair and lose it somewhere where it’ll never be found. Dump this motherfucker’s naked body in the quarry off Sandstone Road. Make sure to weigh him down, too, so no one spots a goddamn floater.”
With a gaping mouth and wide eyes, Pugsy asked, “Did he stiff Luscious?”
“You’re a goddamn prospect. Don’t ask fuckin’ questions. Just do what the fuck you’re told.”
“Got it.”