Goddess of Justice by Dwayne Clayden (mobi ebook reader TXT) 📕

After distributing her load, a waitress stopped by Brad, empty tray in her left hand, and right hand on her extended hip. She didn’t make eye contact, and her eyes roved the bar as she smacked her gum. “What’ll ya have?”

“Four draft beer.”

“Ya got it.” She drifted away, never once having glanced at Brad.

He leaned back and scanned the bar from one side to another. To either side of the long bar were doors. The door to the right apparently led to the kitchen, as trays of burgers, hot dogs and fries came out at regular intervals.

His gaze held on the left-hand door. To the handle side stood a beast of a man—six-foot four, at least, well over two hundred and forty pounds with a shaved head and piercing black eyes.

The waitress dropped off his beers, then hustled to more promising tables.

No one went near the left door while the show was on. Brad was on his second beer when someone announced the show would take a break. The waitresses pounced on the patrons, taking orders before they could think of leaving. After about ten minutes, a few men headed to the left door. They said something to the bouncer, slipped something into his hands, then the bouncer opened the door and they slipped past. For the next fifteen minutes, about a dozen men approached the door and gained entrance.

The intermission lasted approximately twenty minutes, then the lights dimmed, and unfamiliar girls took the stage.

While the third act was on, the left door opened, and a teenaged girl talked to the bouncer. She was a girl from the first show. He nodded and headed over to a table. He spoke briefly with the man, who then followed the bouncer back to the door where the girls stood. The man followed her down the hall, then the door closed.

He’d glanced at the first acts with slight interest. When the third act started, Brad almost dropped his beer. It was the girl from the video at the tattoo parlor. This girl had his undivided attention. If he was right, the girls performed on stage, then turned tricks in the back hall. He needed to figure out how this was arranged.

The waitress came back and stood with the same hip-out stance.

“Another round?”

“Sure,” Brad said. “About the girls, can a guy get some time with them?”

“Maybe. Anyone in mind?”

“Yeah, the girl on stage.”

She frowned. “You like them young, huh? I’ll see what I can do.”

She took a few additional orders, then approached the bouncer at the door. He briefly glanced in Brad’s direction, then said something to the waitress who headed to the bar. He stared at the girl again. He was sure they’d say she was eighteen, but he felt she wasn’t over sixteen. What he noticed was most were the same dead eyes he’d seen on the video. She was going through the motions, her body moving, but her mind was blank.

The teen left the stage and was replaced. The waitress brought him four draft beers but didn’t say a word. Brad tossed a dollar on the table for the beer, then added a quarter as a tip.

Brad started working on a plan to get into that back hall. Maybe when the bouncer approached another table, Brad could slide through the door. The problem was that the bouncer never strayed far from the door or for long. That meant he wasn’t the only one making arrangements for the girl. Brad scrutinized the bar and came up with at least three other possibilities, all bikers. Brad had noticed them when he came in but hadn’t given them a second thought. Now he realized they were working a portion of the bar. He watched closer, then saw a waitress approach the biker on the far side of the room. She pointed to a table, and he nodded.

Brad sipped his draft beer and watched the bikers rather than the girls. The lights came up, and they announced another intermission. Again, the waitresses pounced on the customers before they could leave. Brad’s waitress came by. “Another round?”

“I’m good,” he said.

“Vic will come and get you when the girl is ready. Have a twenty ready and give it to him.” Then she headed to another table and dropped off the drinks.

Brad tried not to stare at Vic, but he wanted to remember every feature, so when the time came, they would have a discussion about which hospital Vic wanted to go to.

Intermission passed, and the music started. Another girl took the stage. As he stared at her, a hand tapped his shoulder. He jumped, and his left hand headed to his hip.

“Follow me, bud,” the bouncer said.

The bouncer opened the door and Brad extended his hand. The bouncer took his hand, and they made the exchange. He’d just given away most of the cash he got from Steele.

The teen met him in the hallway and took him to an eight-by-eight room. A bed was jammed against a wall and a coat stand sat next to the bed. She closed the door.

Brad smiled at her. Up close, he not only saw the dead eyes, but her posture was of one who had given up. Her shoulders sagged. Her movements were slow and spastic. When he peered at her eyes, he realized the pupils were pinpoint. They were feeding her narcotics.

“Ten minutes.” She sighed and pursed her lips. “Blowjob or bed?”

Brad held up his hands and shook his head. “No sex. I want to talk.”

“I no talk. Not English. Blowjob?”

“No. Listen. You were at the tattoo parlor.”

She shrugged and shook her head. “No blowjob, you go.”

He dug for some way to communicate with her. He held his hand up like it was a movie camera and with the other hand cranked it.

She stared at him. “Movie?”

“Yes.” Then he noticed the tattoo on her chest, just below her clavicle and to the left. A crown with