can find out about this place while you all rest.”
“Sounds like a plan. If you want food, please have one of us to order it for you. The extra precaution will make me feel better.”
“Right.” I offer a tight smile because, apparently, even ordering food on the telephone with a fake name is dangerous. Why didn’t my father feel the need to bring this up if it’s so serious? This pisses me off like no other, but I respect my father, so he must have his reasons.
My detail walks me to my room, checking the inside once more before leaving me alone with my laptop and suitcase. They didn’t offer up a keycard or anything, and it has me feeling more like a prisoner than the senator’s daughter. I call my sister’s number like I do every day at this time, but Madison doesn’t answer. She never answers, and as far as I know, she doesn’t have a phone connected to the number, or else my dad would track her. I still call, just in case, and at the same time, so she can rely on me. She has access to her voicemail, so I hope she hears my messages and, at some point, calls me back.
With a disappointed sigh, I decide on a long, hot soak in the tub before I do some detective work. It should keep me busy enough, along with a call to my mom. The poor woman is kept out of the loop without my updates. It’s cruel of my father, but he swears it’s for my mother’s own good. He doesn’t want to worry her and stress her out when a lead turns to nothing. I get it; however, I don’t agree with him, so I call her with details, and she pretends to be clueless around my father. She loves him enough to act like she’s going along with his wishes, but she’s always kept up to speed. Madison and I get our rebellious streak from her, and stubborn women like us always find a way to get what we want.
Chapter 3
Hell is empty and all the
devils are here.
- William Shakespeare
“Everything cherry at BJ’s?” I ask as Powerhouse plants his ass next to me. I’m drinking a beer out back behind the club, chilling in the silence. I’ve got a small fire going in the pit before us—perfect on a chilly night like tonight. We’ve got some stumps and lawn chairs strewn about for the brothers, and whoever else may be around. Some nights we’ll come out here to shoot the shit around a fire. It’s relaxing, especially if you’re hungover.
“Yeah, all good, Prez.”
The owner pays us to help out with any issues he may have. Powerhouse throws his bulk around once a week to put a little fear into the customers messing with the strippers. He’d be there watching them dance regardless, so he may as well make some cash while doing it. Rarely do we all need to be there busting heads, but occasionally, we all show up to make our presence known. The owner doesn’t mind if we invite the strippers back to the MC for a private performance, either. It gives the females a chance to make some extra fedia, and in return, they stay working for his wrinkly perverted ass longer.
“You were there a lot this week,” I mention. All the brothers noticed—not just me. I don’t want him to grow too attached to the strippers. He’s fixated on watching them whenever he can. “You have a favorite or something?”
“There were a few new guys; some suits that I was keeping an eye on. They were too clean-cut to be in there. I wasn’t sure if they were gonna fuck up one of the dancers.”
“Ah. You find out who the fuck they are? Were they selling anything or peddling in flesh?”
He shakes his head. “They kept to themselves, didn’t bother anyone. Maybe, since it’s not far from the airport, they were looking for easy pussy.”
I rub my face, not thinking too hard on it. “Should’ve had the girls grab their wallets. Could’ve gotten paid and had their names.”
A devilish grin pulls at his lips. “I didn’t feel like burying the bodies, or I would’ve.”
A chuckle leaves me as I shake my head. He’s a crazy fucker, and I don’t doubt it for a minute that he’s telling the truth. “Speaking of getting paid, that sale I was waiting on came through. Plague and Whiskey went out to meet