Twerk by Isobel Blackthorn

Author:Isobel Blackthorn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, psychological, dark romance, stripper club, strip club
Publisher: HellBound Books Publishing LLC
Published: 2018-12-07T00:00:00+00:00

Lana

My Friday night shift drags on. The percussive beat of Jacquees’ At the Club, the dim lighting, the backlit bar a beacon in the gloom; it is during the hours after midnight that the moody atmosphere oppresses the senses, time seems to drag, and I find myself flagging. I’ll pick up later, though, I always do. Until then, the hustle will be grueling.

I circulate tables and hover in all my favorite spots – by columns, the fireplace, the bar. Amy is leading an athletic-looking guy to the lap-dance booths, passing by Jasmine who is heading to the bar with a guy in tow. He is kitted out in a gold suit and looks ridiculous. Kendall and Steph have teamed up to hustle a party of flashy, grey-haired guys in expensive suits; the casino contingent is rolling in and those two dancers look all set to get a VIP out of that lot. I shift my gaze, not enjoying the brief wave of jealousy that rises up, unbidden.

In an oddly possessive, if not unexpected move, Britney has co-opted Dallas, and is no doubt filling her head full of nonsense, and I immediately think of my Instagram. Yet social media seems petty somehow and my suspicions futile right now, so I force that particular crisis – and Britney – out of my mind.

Guillermo chooses this section of the night to go all late-90’s retro-style with Jeremih’s I Think of You. It feels like an admission of his own feelings for me, unless I’m reading into his song choices meanings that simply aren’t there. Although, I do need to give the poor man my answer, I’ve already kept him hanging on for half the night; if I were in his shoes I’d be pissed off by now. After all, on any other night, I would already have gone over for a banter at least three times. Instead, it probably looks like I’m avoiding him, and the guy can’t possibly know what is going on in my head unless I tell him.

At least the ratio of guys to dancers has improved. Only, it’s proving much harder to pick someone out of the crowd, especially with the lighting so dim. I keep circulating, hoping Frank is still around.

It’s a long shot. Frank has already said he doesn’t know Billy, although in our brief conversation I sensed evasion, rather than honesty.

Casinos are huge, with a large clientele, and Billy could have been talking about anyone when he told Amy he had knowledge about someone and could get them into a lot of trouble if he blew the whistle. If it was true, and not just Billy bragging. If Amy has her facts straight. Then again, if he really did have something on someone, and that information was dangerous to know, it could easily have gotten him killed. I have a motive, right there.

Frank might not know a thing about any of that, but then again, he might. When a casino is stripped of its transient custom, a core of regulars, management and staff are all that remain.

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