8. Grizzly

8

GRIZZLY

I order my second bourbon, telling myself that I'm just going to sip on this next one while I pretend to be interested in the girls as they come out. Hopefully, my memory holds out and I can remember as many of the girls as possible.

Whether it be code names, or numbers that they're given, or just remembering faces. Anything we can use against them later. I so fucking hate playing nice here, but it's the only way.

A series of hosts dressed in fine suits come up to the tables, placing a large green card in front of each of us. If I flip it over, there's also a red side.

The host begins to explain to us what it's all about. "This is how you bid." He raises the card up just like you would a paddle. "On the inside of each of these is a card with your number. That number is used to track you as a client, so don't go losing it or switching with someone else. Once you bid on a girl, you can go to that table."

He points to the far side of the room in a dark corner. I can barely make out a table, let alone any of the few people sitting at it. Most everything is in shadow, because the lights are turned off in that direction.

"And they will stamp your card with the serial number of the girls you have bought. Everyone gets to claim their product when the entire show is over. Do you have any questions?"

I glance at Trap, who's doing a very good job of holding in whatever the hell he wants to say. Of course we have questions, but we can't ask any of them, not like this.

"Thank you. No, we don't." I try to keep my tone light, but I never have been good at that. Especially since…well, I don't even like to think about it. My losses have been too much.

I'm sure they'll just write me off as the asshole running an MC.

As the host walks away, Dart looks at me with a weird grin across his face. "This sure is some joint, isn't it, Prez?"

I give him a pointed look and cross my arms. "That's one way to put it. It's certainly something. And marketed as a VIP lounge for the elite guests of this club…it's just a matter of time." I don't finish the thought. The runway in the center of the room begins to light up as the other lights around us dim.

"Dart, I need you to go around and see what you can drum up from some of the other customers. Especially when they get a little loose with more alcohol. Be friendly," I add, giving direct orders. Then I turn toward Trap. "I need you to get more of the insider information. Act interested in all of this. Like you're doing my dirty work. Schmooze it up with any member of the route that you can find. Remember names. Be ready to set the trap when it's time."

Trap nods and walks off, though I can see the frustration in his stride. Hopefully he'll go straight to the bar and get himself something else to drink to help him loosen up a bit. Otherwise, they'll see right through him.

But I have to trust him. He's my man on this for a reason.

They announce a number, and the first girl walks on stage. I hold my bourbon in my hand and stand up, looking her up and down. Or at least making it appear that's what I'm doing. Of course, I'm not going to get too close. Most of these girls are underage or damn close to it. I don't want to imagine my precious daughter being a part of something like this.

By the third girl, I realize I need to be bidding. Even if it's lowballing and giving in to someone else. We're supposed to be here to get another club whore. That's the story we told. If I'm not interested, then it's not going to be very believable.

A blonde woman comes out next. She reminds me of someone in a pageant. She waves like she's Miss America or something. Blood-red lips, lots of curves, and very tall. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she wants to be here. I can tell by looking around me that a lot of the men in here are interested in her. I take a sip of my bourbon and then raise my green card. The screen at the top of the stage announces my bid.

They can't really go saying women's names out loud or make anyone think there's an actual auctioneer down here.

I'm pretty sure there's also a shit ton of security here. Even the type I can't point out. Men. Women. Who the hell knows how many? I hope Dart's being careful and not running into any of them.

The night drags on, and I make eye contact to make sure I know where Dart and Trap are at all times. I make sure to bid low on a couple of other girls, but I always let it go to someone else. I wonder if I'm actually going to buy one and save her at some point. I've tried to look for one who seems like she really needs us to save her. I try to decipher if any of them are underage, but it's hard to tell. They've done so much makeup work on these women, they could be fourteen or forty and I wouldn't know it. It's sickening to think about.

A lot of the crowd is thinning out as many have gotten what they wanted. A man two tables over from us has even bought three girls at this point. I'm anxious to get out of here, but I plan to stay until the end. The next one is called out and something about her catches my eye. She's doing the same things as the other girls, except her nervousness is even more clear. She gets closer, and I can tell her eyes are big and scared. Her hands are starting to shake.

Her body, I'm a bit ashamed to say, does draw my attention. Her clothing is more innocent than most of the rest of them, making her look sweet and sexy at the same time. Even though I'm sure the corset is enhancing them, I can imagine her tits are perfectly round under there. I can imagine all kinds of things I shouldn't, and I sit down to cover up my reaction.

But then, something else comes over me as I look more closely at her face. She seems familiar, as if I've met her before. That's when it hits me.

Meredith. Harlow's friend.

She's been at the clubhouse a hell of a lot, but I would never imagine her looking like this. She's always so sweet and quiet. And whatever they did to her hair, it looks like Texas hair. It's not like her usual hair at all, which is straight as a board and normally hangs down in shimmering sheets over her shoulders—it looks much worse this way, I decide.

I clench my fists as Dart comes up to me. As he does, the girl freezes, training her bright green eyes on him. Does she recognize us?

"Shit." Dart is looking up at the stage now. Trap joins us shortly.

"It's her, isn't it? That friend of Harlow's?" Trap asks.

"Yeah, she's the one who's always kind of hanging around me. Real shy," I growl, looking at Dart. When I look back up at Meredith, she starts walking away, turning around to show off more of her assets. It's hard to control what happens next. I'm not supposed to make a scene, and shouldn't even say anything, but I raise my green card.

"One million." Trap and Dart look at me like I've lost my mind. It's way more than anyone has bid on most of these girls. But I'm hoping it's high enough that no one dares to outbid me. The warning comes up on the screen that we're about to be able to claim her.

And I can't help but think about me claiming her later. She turns around and looks at me. And I know she's mine. She has to be mine.

"One point two million."

I look around, trying to find out where the voice came from. There's a guy wearing a hat in the back corner. I can't even tell how old he is or what he looks like, but he's betting on her. He outbid me.

Trap elbows me in the gut. "What the fuck are you going to do? Let him get away with her?" As I look at him, I see the same spark in his eyes that I know is in mine. He wants her just as badly as I do. It's so wrong, but I don't have a single thought about that. Not right now. I have to take her home. I have to get her on the back of my bike and get her the hell out of here.

"One point six million," I call out and look in the direction of the other man. All of us are glaring at him, daring him to bid any higher. It looks like he's about to, and I'm ready to pummel him.

Apparently, I don't have to. Dart is across the room before I can stop him. He's about to make us look really bad, and then we won't be allowed to take her. We'll probably be disqualified or something. Then the Bratva will really hate us. And we need to have this inside position with them.

Luckily, Lorenzo comes up to them, putting his hand on Dart's back. He leans in and says something to the man in the corner. All I can see is his nodding.

I keep looking back and forth between what's happening on the other side of the room and Meredith. Time slows, almost stills.

I grip Trap on the shoulder, probably way too hard. He grips me back, gritting his teeth. "This is such fucking bullshit. How did they get another one? Harlow's friend, this can't be a coincidence. How dare they?—"

"I concede." Whatever Lorenzo said, it made the other guy stop bidding.

An announcement flashing across the screen informs us that she's had the highest bid for the night. I don't care. She walks off stage, and I'm walking away. I'm about to lose it.

"Isn't she supposed to be in fucking college?" I ask the two of them as Dart approaches again. He's red in the face, I can tell even in this dim light.

"I thought so, but she hasn't been at the clubhouse as much as usual. I'm assuming that's why, that or just the fact that Harlow's been so busy with the babies."

I'm pacing back and forth, ready to rip my hair out, trying to rack my brain and think about how this could have happened. Harlow doesn't even know. If she did, she would have insisted on coming with me. She would've told us.

"Just been so damn busy dealing with all this shit. With all the drama with the MC…"

I'm blaming myself, and I can feel myself losing it.

"Somebody has to stop me here, guys," I say, looking at the both of them. "I bet the two of you are just as pissed off, but I will fucking kill somebody, or more than one somebody, if you don't get me out of here now."

"I'm furious, but we gotta play this cool, Prez. Let's just handle this calmly. Let's get our girl, and get the hell out of here alive."

The comment sets me off again. Our girl. This is going to be a shit fest when we get her back to the clubhouse. But for now, we need to make sure she's safe and get my hotheaded ass out of here before this turns into a murder scene.