Tough Guy: A Hero Club Novel by Jamie Schmidt (e book reader free .txt) 📕

hand after wrapping the belt over his shoulders. It was only Highway’s hand on my shoulder that stopped me from following.

“Not a good idea, boss.”

I thought it was a fucking great idea.

“Did you know that Paulie was selling drugs out of the club?” I asked instead.

Highway frowned. “I never saw anything, but it makes sense.”

“Why?”

“I couldn’t figure out why Ginny was fucking that little prick.”

Paulie was the supplier. I had a solid lead for Grier. “What about Dee or Zeke?”

“They weren’t fucking Paulie.”

I supposed that was information that was important to someone. “Do you think they were selling to him or buying from him or Ginny?”

“I don’t think so. They did hang out with the dancers after their shifts.”

“Which ones?”

“The ones who had a side business after hours.”

I snorted. That wasn’t drugs. That was sex. I didn’t care what the dancers did when they were off the clock and off my property, as long as it didn’t affect their jobs when they were on stage.

“Did they hang around with Broadway?”

“Zeke did. He was the only one who liked her. I don’t think she let him fuck her though.”

Holding up a hand, I said, “I don’t care who is fucking who. What I want to know is what’s going on with my employees. They’re dropping like flies.”

“Shit happens.”

I couldn’t argue with that. My eyes slid over to the closed VIP door where Jackie and Chance had gone. “Has it been fifteen minutes yet?”

“No, but Chance paid for an hour.”

“What?” I whipped my head to Highway. “How the fuck do you know that?”

He tapped his headset. “I heard her call it in. His card went through.”

I usually didn’t need to be on the headset until later in the evening so I hadn’t turned on my Bluetooth. “That son of a bitch spent four hundred dollars on Jackie?”

“La Vie Bohème,” Highway corrected me. “More like five twenty after the booze.”

I forced my jaw to unclench.

“And that’s not including tip,” he added helpfully.

“Fuck.”

“You shouldn’t get involved with strippers, boss. They’ll break your balls, your heart, and your bank account. And not necessarily in that order.”

Just what I needed, love advice from my head bouncer. “Look, just ask around and keep your ears open. Find out everything you can about Paulie, Dee, and Zeke—especially if it has to do with Broadway. I don’t think Broadway’s white haired friend is going to come back.”

“Where are you going?” Highway asked.

“My office,” I snarled. If Zeke and Broadway met up outside of work, he might know where she was. Or if I was really lucky, Lisa would be with him and her sister could get off the stage and away from Chance fucking Bateman. I had some calls to make.

Chapter Eight

Jackie Mitchell

I tried not to flinch as the door shut behind me. I carried in a bottle of Jose Cuervo and a tray with ice, glasses, salt, and lemons. My mind could barely tally what I was going to make this hour. It was at least two hundred dollars and I knew I got a cut when the client ordered premium booze. That wasn’t counting the fifty bucks I had already made in tips tonight.

Or the tip Chance Bateman might leave me. Oh my God, Lisa would shit if she knew.

“Poor me a drink, would ya luv?” he said in a sexy Australian accent.

“S-sorry,” I said, hurrying to put the tray down on the table.

“Join me in a shot?”

“Yeah,” I said.

He licked his hand and I dotted the salt on it. I filled the shot glass with the Cuervo. Sucking the salt off his hand, he then tanked the shot and I popped the lemon wedge into his mouth. He grinned, showing me the rind of the lemon over his teeth.

I laughed at his antics and relaxed a bit.

“Your turn,” he said. “You look like you could use one.”

“It’s my first night.” I licked my hand and blushed at his appreciative look.

“No shit.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only because you haven’t sat on my lap yet.”

I nearly dropped the shot I had just poured myself. “Am I supposed to?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said with a smile, and took the shot out of my hand and tanked it.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” I said, reluctantly. I handed him a lemon slice, but he waved me off.

“It is with me. But I am going to make you pour me a real drink.”

I couldn’t believe how relieved I was to hear him say that, and I quickly blinked back tears so he wouldn’t see. My bravado that had gotten me this far was rapidly fading away as the adrenaline from being on stage wore off. Chance Bateman was hotter than the sun, and was even more attractive because he was kind and funny. But I didn’t want to grind on his lap. I didn’t mind being nearly naked in front of him, mostly because he wasn’t leering, and his admiration was a confidence builder. But there was only one man I wanted to rub against in the VIP room, and he probably was busy in the club making sure no one was out of line. “How would you like your drink?” I asked.

“On the rocks with a salted rim and a twist of lemon.”

I figured out how to create that, and handed it to him.

“Feel free to make yourself one.”

Looking at the tequila bottle longingly, I sighed. “If you want me to dance, I shouldn’t.”

“Are you okay with dancing?”

“I love it.” I felt the last of my nervousness slip away. Chance didn’t turn me on, but he made me feel safe.

Leaning back into the couch, he waved at me to start.

“Music on,” I said. “Play ‘Baby Did a Bad, Bad Thing’ by Chris Isaak.”

“Good choice.” He crossed his legs and winced. It reminded me of Lisa. Chance must have hurt his knee at some point.

I lost myself in the music, using the entire room to dance, leap, and shimmy. It should have been tawdry, and I should