Unkinked, page 22
“Of course,” said Phil, his surprise turning into a smirk when he spotted Maddy. “I wouldn’t want to inconvenience any of your paying members.” He chuckled again, and Clint laughed nervously in response. Maddy cracked his fingers on the bar top. He wasn’t a fighter, but he was not going down today.
“Exactly,” said Maddy. “We have our set hours, and they have to be complied with for both city and permit regulations.” It wasn’t complete bullshit, but it certainly tested the waters. Phil’s smirk dropped away.
“Madison,” said Phil, sliding up to the bar and tapping the shining surface. “You the newest whore—I mean…member?”
“No and no,” said Maddy, struggling to keep his voice even. He was not going to react to Phil.
To his credit, Phil managed to keep the surprise from his face, but his frown deepened. “Let’s get this over with. I need your financial records, licenses and member lists now. And a tour, if those all check out.”
Thank God Maddy had stumbled on a detailed financial report on the not-password-protected-because-Clint-was-way-too-trusting laptop, which he pulled up, along with the member list documents that he had just typed. It was short by a few, but Phil didn’t have to know any of that.
“All my licensing is up to date, and we always check ID of any guests, and as well, members must be of legal drinking age,” said Clint, his professionalism hitting the room out of nowhere. Maddy blinked with surprise. “Learned that one the hard way from your boy.” He winked at Maddy, a smile flitting on his lips before it disappeared.
“There are massive discrepancies here each month,” said Phil, the glee obvious in his voice. He swept a hand over his greasy head, his fingers staining the keys as he started to type again. “All of your profits seem to just disappear into thin air. Looks like money laundering to me.”
Maddy rolled his eyes. If only money laundering was so easy to detect. There was a reason that crime organizations used it—because it was sneaky and it worked nine times out of ten.
“There’s a detailed report and a list of donations to non-profit charity organizations here,” said Maddy, clinking another document that he’d just made an hour before. “I think you’ll see that everything adds up.”
Phil grumbled, a weak pathetic sound that made Maddy want to smash his face in. He tightened his fist instead, his nails cutting into his palms. He was winning so far, but one slip-up and they would be done for.
“Give me a tour, then,” said Phil, lifting out of his seat with an arthritic grunt.
“You’ve already seen the facility,” said Maddy, cutting Clint off with a look. “You must’ve seen every room when you were a member here, or could you not get anyone to agree to go back there with you?” Maddy lowered his voice. “It would be a conflict of interest for you to tour a place where you may or may not have fucked someone before.”
“Yes, but that’s my place to decide now, not yours,” said Phil, taking a few short steps until he was inches away from Maddy’s face. Of course, Phil had to be taller than him, too.
Maddy paled, his gaze flickering to Clint. Phil could fine the club into bankruptcy, and no one would question him. Maddy could make an anonymous phone call, but who would respond to it?
“It’s interesting that they put a rapist in charge of a decision like that—or did they not know?” As soon as Maddy said it, he wanted to take it back. Phil’s eyes narrowed into black slits, his mouth going hard.
“And a club like this that knowingly invites a sex offender into their fold? Something like that could be dangerous if it continued.” He looked to Clint, his smirk reappearing. “I don’t think that tour will be needed after all. I think I’ve seen enough.”
“Phil, wait,” said Clint as Phil turned toward the curtain. Clint turned a glare on Maddy, clenching his hands into fists. “Maddy, get out.”
Chapter Eighteen
Maddy
That had to be some kind of a record. Three—no—three-and-a-half hours?
Maddy hit the street, the thin layer of air conditioning stripping from his skin in a matter of seconds. He’d worn a sweater—because of course he had, and the morning sun had him instantly regretting it.
The rain had given them a quick reprieve, but the humidity had set in with full force as everything struggled to dry. Somehow, the intensity of the humidity was worse.
Things had been different after the last scene and with Derreck. He had thought that maybe he would have had the courage to go with short sleeves, but nervousness had set in as he’d prepared to leave. Clint, along with a host of other members, had seen him shirtless after all, but without Derreck there with him, the idea had put him on edge.
The T-shirt was out of the forecast permanently now. Three-and-a-half hours. He’d held down a job for ten years, and he’d maybe developed a bit of a working attitude, but he hadn’t expected to get fired so instantaneously. Not when he’d finally started to do some good work for a place his boyfriend—Dom, lover, whatever—loved.
Why had he pushed Phil like that? Maddy shook his head, blinking against the light as his stomach rumbled. He should have retreated back to the office and let Clint take lead. It was Clint’s bar, not his, and Clint had managed to keep it running so far.
It was just that…Clint had looked a bit desperate, and his office had been a maze of the past, where things from fifteen years ago were collecting dust. He seemed like a good man, but he’d been exhausted and in no shape to face something of such importance.
Maddy leaned against the brick of the building, soaking up the heat from the stone. He longed to reach for his phone to call Derreck, but he was probably dead asleep.
Derreck’s boss had texted them while they were lying in bed to let Derreck know that digging was resuming as soon as the sun set. It still gave Maddy the jitters when he thought about tunneling at a graveyard in the middle of night. Derreck said the silence was calming, but maybe he wasn’t afraid of ghosts?
Hey, so the club is probably getting shut down and I got fired. Maddy could imagine how a text like that would go over. He’d seen Derreck rage at Phil before and he didn’t want to go down that path again.
He glared at the Buick parked behind his trusty companion, knowing instantly that it was Phil’s. The exterior was spotless, presumably from going through the car wash every day, and it had all the extras. Peering into the passenger window, Maddy touched the keys in his pocket, more tempted than he had ever been to mess up someone’s paint job.
Even with the spotless exterior, there were wrappers and tissues jammed into every available orifice of the interior that Maddy could see. It was as if Phil couldn’t be bothered to clean something if it wasn’t automatic.
Huffing out a laugh, Maddy gently tapped his key against the window, so tempted to leave a mark that his hands shook from the force of holding back. Maybe if he popped the hood, he could leave a nasty message on the inside? Phil would probably never see it. There was no way he changed his own oil.
Looking back to the club door, Maddy gritted his teeth and slid his keys back into his pocket. He could work at a coffee shop? But he’d probably get fired the first time he served a rude customer.
Anything related to manual labor was out, or he’d probably lose an arm. Other bars were out, too. People always asked the most uncomfortable questions when he had no desire to give them the answers.
He phone vibrated in his pocket, and he nearly sank to his knees. Please let it be Derreck. Please. He pulled it from his pocket, unlocking the screen and squinting down at it.
Unknown caller.
Not Derreck then. With nothing to lose, he accepted the call, bringing the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”
“Where the fuck are you?” a voice growled into his ear.
He pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at the screen. He didn’t recognize the number, either. Whatever. He did not need anything else on top of his wonderful day. His give-a-shits had officially expired.
“Wrong number, asshole,” he imitated the same growl, probably failing pathetically before he ended the call.
The time shone back at him in giant glowing numbers on his screen. It wasn’t even lunch time, and he was already hopeless. He should have stayed in bed with Derreck, and maybe poked him until he got fucked again.
His ass ached at the thought. Or not. There was only so much his body could take, even if he did like to push it. Even his dick was a bit chafed and his balls were a whole different story.
His phone rang again, the same number appearing on the screen. Whoever it was, they were persistent. What do I have to lose? Laughing, he accepted the call and put the phone to his ear.
“House of the Lord, God speaking,” he answered, almost making it through without laughing again. It was the same way that his dad had used to answer the phone when he had been younger, at least, until a priest had called one day. Oops.
“What the fuck?” The angry stranger now sounded closer to enraged. “Okay, that was actually a bit funny, but seriously, where did you go?” Their voice softened. “I hope you aren’t walking out on me, ’cause I spent all morning training you.”
Maddy paused, looking at the screen again. Shit. The number was a bit familiar. And the voice was too, once he thought about it. “Clint?”
“Yeah, of course,” said Clint. “Who else were you expecting? Baby Jesus?” He snickered, the sound sending another wave of confusion through Maddy’s day.
“I left. You told me to leave, so I did. I’m just by my car,” said Maddy, kicking Phil’s tire. His toes ached as his foot bounced off the surface.
“Shit, Maddy, seriously? I meant get out of the room, not the club. Get back in here!”
Maddy tilted his head, looking back at the club door. “I thought you fired me.” He took the few steps back to the door. He knocked three times, just like he had that morning.
The door swung open seconds later, revealing Clint on the other side, who still had the phone pressed to his ear. The man’s hair was in complete disarray, and he looked positively frantic. Snapping the phone shut, he gestured Maddy inside.
A flip phone? Do they even still make those? Maddy shot off another mental groan. With the money that went through the club, Clint should have had a proper phone.
“Come on in. I was just about to see Phil out of the door,” said Clint, opening the door wider to let Maddy in. Sweet air conditioning greeted him like a cigarette after good sex, which was something he was going to have to try sometime. A sex bucket-list was definitely a thing.
“I can see myself out, thank you,” said Phil. His beady gaze shifted around the floorboards, never looking up to Maddy or Clint. Even in the dim light of the bar, the guy looked like he’d seen a ghost.
“Take care of yourself, Phil,” said Clint as he held the door wide for the guy, who slipped by without a word, his gaze never lifting from the ground. The moment he was outside, Clint let the door slam shut, locking them in cool silence.
Maddy looked around. There were no closed signs or caution tape that he could see—not that auditors worked that fast or had those things with them. And Clint didn’t look upset. In fact, he was smiling.
Clint rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about the misunderstanding, but yeah, I’m not going to fire you. I would end up six feet under, if you know what I mean.”
Maddy did, and it didn’t sit right with him. He wanted to be here on his own merits, not someone else’s. “If it’s not working out, just let me know. I’ll take care of Derreck.”
Clint’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “You two are fucking made for each other.” He turned away, strolling to the bar before flicking on several sets of lights. The lights alone gave the room new life. “Now, where did we leave off? Do you want to keep working in the office or did you want the down-low on the bar?”
Who says ‘down-low’ anymore? “How old are you?” asked Maddy before he could stop himself. Clint was a blond, which was a great way to hide gray, and his blue eyes were crystal clear. No age spots or even freckles, but that probably came with working inside for so many hours per day.
“Uh, I’m legal drinking age, if that’s what you’re asking. And you actually don’t have to ask that. Everyone is vetted at the door and guests have to show ID and sign waivers and consent forms, which you already knew.” Clint rambled on as he punched a few things into the till. The drawer slid open with a ding, only for Clint to snap it shut again.
“So, the club…it’s okay?” asked Maddy, longing to relieve the pit in his stomach before it could get any worse.
“Fuck yeah, don’t worry about it,” said Clint, waving his hand like he was shooing away a fly.
“But, Phil,” said Maddy, looking back to the curtain like Phil would suddenly appear and change his mind. Phil had been seconds away from tearing the place apart. What had changed in the few minutes that he was away?
“Like I said, don’t worry about it,” said Clint, leaning on the bar top and resting his chin in his hands with a grin on his face. “In this world, Phil might have one friend, but I have thousands, and all of them would put themselves on the line to save this place. This is a safe place and a home for members, and a little shit like Phil can’t fight against that.”
Maddy slid his hand over the countertop, feeling every ridge and bump in the surface. Clint was right. It really was like a home.
Chapter Nineteen
Derreck
Freezing-cold hands touched his back, breaking him from sleep and putting him on alert in seconds. His body went taut on its own as he lunged at his attacker, twisting in the sheets and grabbing them by the wrist. Using his momentum, he slammed them to the bed face-first.
His home was rich in community and unspoken laws of trust and reliance, but there was always a druggie or two thrown into the mix. No one was taking his fucking kidney that night.
Once he opened his eyes when he realized that they were still closed, the strangeness of his dream started to dissipate. A familiar groan cut the air, and he blinked in the semi-darkness. Dark hair splashed against the pale cloth of his pillow, and a wide, familiar eye looked back at him.
Maddy. He released his sub, flicking on the lamp before pulling Maddy’s wrists to him to make sure he hadn’t squeezed too tight. They were a touch red and there was a chance they might bruise, but it could have been worse. Derreck bit back the guilt that seeped in as Maddy looked at him with a grin on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes.
“I could have hurt you,” said Derreck, looking over at the clock before shuffling back under his covers. They were all askew and Maddy’s weight was pinning them to the bed in the wrong spot. It was too fucking early, and he still had another ten minutes before his alarm would go off.
“Did I scare you?” asked Maddy, poking Derreck’s ribs with a freezing-cold finger. He was worse than his cat. “I didn’t know you could even get scared. I just thought demons ran away from your glare or something.” He laughed, the sound light and rich, before he slid his hand down Derreck’s ribs again.
Derreck grunted, flexing under the touch. How could Maddy be so cold? It was hot as hell outside, and his air conditioner hadn’t stopped running since he’d rolled into bed at a sparkly five a.m.
He peeked one eye open, taking in Maddy’s grinning form. He was in a tank top with his arms on display, as well as his designs. That would probably explain the cold. Maddy was most likely used to sweaters, and the sudden lack of layers was bound to make anyone a little chilly.
“I think I freaked out those kids,” said Maddy, apparently noticing Derreck’s gaze on his marks. “They saw these and I think I’ve been upgraded from ice-cream cone to crazy psycho killer. We make a good match, Derreck. With my skills with pointy objects, and your killer glares, the world will fall at our feet.” He let out a fake evil laugh and Derreck groaned, covering his ear with his arm.
Sleep.
“You shouldn’t leave your doors unlocked when you are sleeping. That’s just asking someone to steal your shit. You didn’t even wake up when I said hi to Demon—who I fed, by the way. Apparently, she was starving.”
Why is he still talking? He glanced at the clock. Down to five minutes. Five minutes of peaceful sleep where he could walk in his dreams instead of reality. Five minutes of…
“Did you fall asleep again?” asked Maddy, skimming his warming palm down Derreck’s side to settle on his hip. He finger-walked over Derreck’s hip and groin, getting closer and closer to Derreck’s morning wood. “Because I need to ask you something.”
The bed creaked as Maddy leaned in closer, his breath brushing over Derreck’s ear. “I need you to hurt me.”
Fuck sleep, wake up! Derreck growled, turning and grabbing Maddy by his shoulder and rolling so that he ended up on top with Maddy’s face buried in his neck and their groins aligned. Derreck, braced himself on his hands, so he didn’t completely squish his sub.
“Tell me what you need,” said Derreck, grinding his hard cock against Maddy’s awakening one. A flush colored Maddy’s cheeks as he lowered his gaze, his inner brat receding to his more submissive nature.
“I crashed a bit at work yesterday. There was a misunderstanding, and I thought Clint fired me—”
“I’ll kill him for ya. Just tell me how you want him to go,” said Derreck, moving down Maddy’s body so he could suck a spot on his neck. He slurped until the spot had to be aching before he bit down, pressing his teeth as hard as he dared. Maddy bucked against him, his cock suddenly rigid.
“Is it bad if I believe you would do that for me? And that it turns me on?” asked Maddy, bucking again when Dereck reached down to squeeze his cock harshly.
“It means that you’re mine,” said Derreck, “and you’ll take anything I give you, even if it terrifies you.” He moved his mouth to Maddy’s nipple, pinching the bud between his teeth. It would sting like a motherfucker, and from Maddy’s gasp, he was getting close already.
