Page 9 of Marked By Tank

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Chapter 2

Tank

Iknowabadroom the second I walk into it.

Velvet Reign is a bad room dressed up pretty.

Gold light.

Red velvet.

Too much money.

Too many men pretending this place is clean.

I stand near the edge of the room in a black suit that pulls wrong across my shoulders and keep my face blank while I watch the floor. That is why I am here. Count heads. Clock the exits. Track security. Figure out who moves first if this place goes loud.

Our treasurer, Sin, is here too. A couple of Damned Saints prospects are working the room.

I handle security for the Saints. It is what I do best.

I wait.

I decide where violence needs to land when it is time.

The first girl comes out in a silky chemise, looking too damn angelic for a room like this.

Bare feet.

Face blank.

And Christ.

Every man in the room looks at her like she is something to buy.

That lands wrong in me fast.

She is all soft curves and pale skin, chestnut-brown hair loose around her shoulders like somebody touched it without permission, green eyes gone distant and glassy under the lights. Too damn pretty for a place like this. Too sweet-looking for the way these bastards are staring at her. The chemise clings to her like a second skin.

Something hard and possessive turns over in my gut.

The room sees merchandise.

I see a woman who should not be standing under those lights for any man here.

The man with the microphone smiles down at his clipboard like he is selling a bottle of whiskey instead of a human being. The men in the room smile with him. Some lean forward. Some lift their paddles. Some just watch like this is what their money is for.

I do not look at them.

I look at her.

Too young.

Too pretty.

And drugged.

I know that on sight.

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