Hellion, a New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) (33 page)

“Maybe you should wait in the car,” I offer, feeling a little bit sorry for her.

“Heck no.
 
I’m not going to sit out here with all the creeps and perverts while you’re in there getting all the glory.”

“Glory?
 
Are you kidding me?”
 
All my pity disappears.
 
Poof
.
 
Gone.

She shakes her head, chagrined
 
“No, I didn’t mean it like that.
 
I just … I want to help.
 
And I can’t help by steaming up the inside of Mick’s windows.”

I don’t like the way that sounds, so I take her by the hand and pull her along with me.
 
“Fine.
 
Come on then.
 
Let’s get this over with.”
 
I really wish I’d worn something sexier.
 
Something tells me I’m going to stick out almost as much as Alissa will.

“What are we going to do exactly?” she asks, for the first time not sounding so sure of herself.

“We’re going to go in there, strike up conversations with people who work at the software company, and find out what we can about Teagan’s father.
 
Simple corporate espionage, no big deal.”

“Okay.”
 
Alissa hesitates as we arrive at the front door.
 
It’s painted bright red and we can hear music beats pumping out from behind it.
 
“But how do we do that?” she asks.

“I have no idea.
 
I figured I’d just wait until inspiration struck.”

She takes a deep breath.
 
“Okay.
 
So here’s hoping inspiration strikes us both, then.”
 
She squeezes my hand and then lets it go.

I take the door handle and pull, trying not to cringe as the sounds of stripper music and the smells of sour spilled alcohol wash over us.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

IT’S MOSTLY DARK INSIDE, FLASHING lights of every color occasionally lighting up a corner or a table.
 
The stage is empty and the only thing visible on it is a pole.
 
There’s a spotlight above it, shining down, reflecting off its metal surface.

“Wow,” says Alissa, “so this is what a strip club looks like.”
 
She nods as her eyes scan the room.

“IDs, ladies?” says a man off to my right.

I glance over and find a really old man sitting on a stool.
 
He looks like he’s about to fall asleep.
 
His very sad mustache droops almost as much as his eyes do.
 
A very round pot belly completes his très sexy look.

We walk over and produce our driver’s licenses.
 
He hands them back and gestures to the inside of the club.
 
“Enjoy yourselves.
 
Hands off the girls.
 
Well drinks are half price until ten.”

I swallow the sour spit that suddenly appears on my tongue.

“
Ew
. Like we’d feel up a stripper,” Alissa says.
 
“Do girls even do that?”

I shake my head.
 
“I have no idea.
 
Maybe.”
 
I look around the room for Colin and Mick but can’t see far enough into the space to see much of anything.

“Let’s go to the bar,” Alissa says.
 
“I need a juice or something.
 
I think my blood sugar is low.”

I glare at her as I hesitate.
 
“Are you serious?
 
Are you having a medical issue right now? Right in the middle of our recon mission?”

“No, I’m not having a medical problem. I’m having a thirst problem.
 
And I’m hungry.
 
I’m eating for two, you know.
 
I haven’t eaten since lunchtime.”

Instead of making a scene and pointing out how many times I tried to talk her out of coming with us, I bring her over to the bar.
 
A semi-hot guy with too much muscle for my taste and a leather vest that would have been better left in the eighties pours me a beer and Alissa an orange juice.

“Yuck. It’s concentrated,” she says, her face scrunched up and her nostrils going out sideways.

I can’t help but smile.
 
“Did you seriously expect a strip club to serve you fresh-squeezed orange juice?”

She stares down into the glass.
 
“I guess not.”

I take a sip of my beer and look around the room again.
 
There are dark corners all over the place, several created by strategically-placed booths and walls between them.
 
I can only imagine what’s going on in them since the only thing I can see clearly from where I’m standing is the stage and a few tables around it.
 
I’m about to suggest we cruise the floor when the lights blink on and off and then a voice comes out over some speakers somewhere.

“Gentlemen! Ladies!
 
Get your seat in the front row because we have a special treat for you tonight.
 
All the way from Orlando, Florida … put your hands together for our special guest dancer Kiki!”
 
Music blares out of the speakers next, mostly beats and some techno rhythm.
 
I think it’s a song from Nine Inch Nails, but I can’t be sure; it’s been re-mixed or something.

I can’t not look at the stage at this point.
 
I don’t even know who this chick is, but I want to see what all the fuss is about.
 
The seats around the pole are already full in seconds and guys are standing around behind them, pulling money out of their wallets as they get ready to pay out for the hootchie.

“Oooo, it’s a show,” says Alissa, sipping her orange juice through a tiny bar straw.
 
“I’ve never seen one of these before.”

A guy nearby glances back and then does a double-take when he sees her belly.
 
She winks at him and he turns around quickly.

I laugh.
 
“Well played, pregnant lady.
 
Well-played.”

“Hey, some guys think pregnancy is sexy.” She shrugs, going back to making out with her straw.

“I’m pretty sure no one in here does,” I say, scoffing at the very idea.
 
I wonder if pregnancy can make a women clinically insane.
 
I know for a fact it at least makes them delusional.

A woman appears on stage and the music becomes more recognizable.
 
Yeah.
 
Definitely Nine Inch Nails.
She’s wearing a business suit outfit with a very short pencil skirt and pearls around her neck. She even has big, black-framed glasses on. I think she’s supposed to look like a conservative librarian of some sort, but there’s no way she could pull that off.
 
She’s way too tall, way too pretty, and way, way too sexy.
 
I feel like a toad in comparison.
 
I nervously look around the room for Mick.
 
If he sees her anywhere near me, I’m done for.

The first words of the song come out of the speakers:
You let me violate you.

“Oh my god,” Alissa says.
 
“She is
amazing
.
 
Do you
see
her?
 
She hasn’t even taken her clothes off yet, and look … they’re giving her money!”

“Come on,” I say, taking her by the elbow and dragging her down the bar.
 
“Let’s go find some people to talk to.”
 
She’s calling way too much attention to us the way she’s pointing.

I get to the end of the bar and stop when I see a table mostly around the corner from a wall that lies between us and the far end of the club.
 
The girls from that office we were waiting outside of are all there, sitting around a few tables pushed together. At that same table are faces I recognize.
 
Mick and Colin.
 
And they’re both smiling and laughing and holding mugs of beer.

My lips pinch together like I just bit into a lemon.

“Oh, goody.
 
They’re doing recon,” says Alissa leaning into me and yelling in my ear.
 
“Now we can just watch the show.”
 
She turns back around to face the stage.
 
“Can you see that Kiki girl?
 
Those guys are too tall!
 
They’re blocking my view!”
 
Several of the tall view-blockers in front of us turn around, because it’s impossible to not hear her.
 
One of them doesn’t turn back after realizing she’s pregnant.
 
He sees her belly and smiles.
 
It’s beyond creepy.

I put my arm over Alissa’s shoulder, pretending to be jealous or something.
 
I use my best eyebrow moves on him, signaling that he needs to just move along.

It doesn’t work.
 
His smile gets bigger.

“That guy is staring at us,” Alissa says.
 
She steps closer to me.
 
Now we’re touching rib to rib, hip to hip.

“Yeah, no shit.
 
Creeper alert.”

I can almost see the gears grinding away in his head.
 
As he turns more fully around, ready to make his move, I shake my head.
 
It’s the least I can do to give him advance warning.
 
Anyone with a brain would see my signal and stop or continue past us, pretending like he wasn’t going to come over and talk to us.
 
But not this guy.
 
Mister Brainless stops right in front of Alissa and puts his hand out.

I grab his wrist before he makes it all the way to her belly.
 
“Don’t even thing about touching her, dude.”

He frowns, but lets his hand drop.
 
“You’re pregnant, huh?” he asks, taking a swig of beer from his bottle.
 
He’s got a really old-looking black heavy metal t-shirt on and saggy jeans.
 
His stomach has seen way too many beers over his lifetime of approximately thirty years.

“Yes, I am. You’re very observant,” she says, her sarcasm hiding beneath a polite exterior.

“It looks good on you.”
 
He nods, letting his eyes roam from her face down to her belly then lower.

“Ew, God, get a life,” I say, pulling her away a little.

Her feet stick in place and I find my arm slipping off.

“Thank you,” she says, smiling genuinely now.
 
“That’s very sweet of you to say, even though I know it’s not true.”

I roll my eyes. Jesus H Christ on a friggin sesame seed bun, she’s feeling flattered by a prego-perv.
 
What’s next?
 
A marriage proposal?

He nods his head with his lower lip stuck out in appreciation. “Oh, I mean it, all right.
 
You’re beautiful.
 
Stunning.
 
Your face is glowing.
 
You’re going to be a great mom, I can tell.”
 
His hand comes out for another touch and Alissa doesn’t act like she’s going to stop him.

I grab her by the arm and pull her back so he misses.
 
I lean over and whisper loudly into her ear. “Hello!
 
Earth to Alissa!
 
Perv alert!”

She shakes me off.
 
“Stop, Quin.
 
He’s just being cute.”

“Cute?
 
He’s just being cute?
Gah
.
 
I think I just barfed in my mouth a little.”
 
I look nervously over at the table with Mick and Colin at it.
 
I’m out of my league with this turd basket hitting on Alissa and her encouraging it like that.
 
I have no idea how to step between a delusional pregnant person and a deviant freakazoid without hurting someone.
 
This operation requires way gentler skills than I possess.

“Is there a problem here?”

I get a little light-headed with the relief that passes through me.
 
“Colin.
 
Hi.
 
Yes.
 
Alissa was just saying how much she misses you.”
 
I point to her and the guy.

He looks up, and the weirdo’s face falls when he sees Colin there.

Alissa scowls.
 
“No, I wasn’t.
 
Go back to your table, Colin.”
 
She turns back to her suitor.
 
“You were saying?”

Colin looks at me in confusion.
 
“What’s she doing?”

I throw up my hands.
 
“I don’t know!
 
Ruining my plan!
 
Going AWOL!
 
Flirting with disaster!
 
Suffering from pregnancy-induced psychosis! Take your pick.”
 
I cross my arms, too disgusted to think straight.
 
“I hope Mick is getting some good info right now because this is turning into a total bust as far as I can tell.”

“Yeah, he’s doing fine.”
 
Colin leaves me and moves over to stand on Alissa’s other side.
 
He doesn’t say anything, he just stares at the guy who can’t keep his eyes off Alissa’s belly.

I’m impressed by Colin’s completely cool attitude because all I can do is shiver at the whole thing.
 
I notice as the guy holds his bottle in front of him that his fingernails are chewed so far down, they have dried blood on them and sores on the sides.
 
Holy murderer molester cannibal guy.
 
No way can I let Alissa go anywhere with this dude, not even over into a booth.
 
Thank God Colin is here because I’m not sure I can take the guy down.
 
He’s got at least fifty pounds on me, maybe more.