Page 82 of Sling’s Awakening

Crystal probably just called last call, which means there’s still an hour until actual close. Considering he took me off manager duty for the night, it’s his time to actually do his fucking job.

Maybe it’s for the best.

I quickly change and head to help Crystal stock the bar and take inventory as fast as possible.

I’m so done with this place.

Chapter

Twenty

SLING

Iwas reeling after leaving Brad’s place.

Beating the shit out of him barely took the edge off.

The only thing I knew would keep me sane was seeing Blake.

So once we got back to the clubhouse, I rallied everyone up, and we headed to Losti Ravn.

Watching Blake walk her tight ass around a room full of men who want to fuck her but knowing I’m the one who actually gets to do it is something I didn’t know I would find so goddamn hot.

But when we walked into the club and settle in, I don’t see Blake.

One of the girls we saw at Scar’s birthday is on stage. A cocktail waitress comes around and takes our drink orders. I order a whiskey as I scan the room.

Still no Blake.

Mountain leans over to me. “Where’s your girl?”

“Around here somewhere,” I answer, but I’m starting to doubt if she’s actually here.

I didn’t tell her I was coming, but that doesn’t stop the fact that I’m getting pissed off she hasn’t come and at least said hi. The way she managed this place during Scar’s party all while working the bar was crazy. I was impressed.

The DJ announces Hex will be around as she struts off the stage and onto the floor, heading straight for a table of guys that’s near the front. He has a few twenties in hand ready to go.

I lose track of how much time has passed, but the DJ announcing the next girl has my attention moving to the stage as I bring my glass to my mouth. “Everyone welcome Gin back onto the stage.”

I freeze with my glass to my lips, my body growing alert.

Gin.

That can’t be right.

Blake’s stage name when she was working the bar was Gin.

They wouldn’t have more than one girl with the same stage name, would they?

An outline of a figure I’ve committed to memory steps into the shadows before emerging into the spotlight.

My hand balls into a fist as I watch my girl wearing a bikini that leaves nothing to the imagination wrap her hand around the pole and hoist herself up.

Can that thing even be called a bikini?

My jaw clenches as I hear the guys in the crowd catcall and cheer her on. Bills are flying with every bounce of her tits and jiggle of her ass.

I’m pissed.