“Tis a good night, Keenan joins us on the lash,” Nolan says as we pile into the car.
“We’ll see ’tis a good night,” Boner says. “See if he snogs someone, aye?”
Nolan snorts. “Snogs? See if he bangs one, more like.”
“Not gonna happen, lads,” Tully says, pulling a flask out of his pocket and taking a hearty swig. He hands it around, and I take a good pull myself. “Don’t you got eyes in yer heads? Bejesus, he’s got a sweet little flack waitin’ for him at home.”
“The prisoner?” Nolan asks. “Got a good eye full of her myself, and she—” he shuts his trap when I punch his arm. “Aw, I mean her eyes, brother, not her body.” He rubs his arm and pouts.
“Y’all have been runnin’ your gobs about this place for so long, I figure it’s time I get a good look,” I say. Boner grins. We’re good. He’ll pay his penalty at the weekend, but he knows I’m not holding a grudge. We can’t, in the brotherhood. Have to have each other’s backs.
We pull up to the club, and I don’t miss the way people whisper when we arrive. Three large bouncers at the door let us in without carding us, and we’re brought immediately into where I’ve been before, the main club entrance. I walk to a table and go to pull out a chair, when Nolan’s hand comes to my arm and he stops me.
“Keenan, are you out of your fucking mind?” he says. “You don’t sit in here, brother.” He shakes his head and casts his eyes heavenward.
Boner said something of this before. I don’t reply but cross my arms on my chest and look to Nolan for the lead. He leans in, whispering in my ear, “This is only the front, ya plonker. You’re feckin’ heir to the throne. You come with us.”
There are dozens of people in here, throwing back drinks and cajoling one another. Several couples are groping and snogging, and one girl’s sitting on the lap of a man who looks old enough to be her father. But Nolan and Boner lead us past the throng of people on the dance floor, past the dimly lit bar, past the waitresses that look longingly after Nolan. They stop when we reach a silver elevator with two large men guarding the door. Their clothing’s black as midnight, matching the color of their skin, their eyes glittering with the promise of violence to anyone who dare step a toe out of line, but when they see Nolan and Boner coming, they smile.
“Where’ve you been, mate?” one asks. “Missed you at the weekend.”
“Had some business to attend to,” Nolan says, then he grabs my arm and yanks me over in front of him. “But I brought a guest tonight. My older brother.”
The men incline their head in greeting. “Heir to the throne, aren’t you?” one asks. I nod, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone else. Nolan beams with pride. “Best leader we’ve ever had,” he says. “You boys treat him well, aye?”
My younger brother’s proud of me. Proud.
“Certainly,” the one on the left says. “Aye. This way, sir.” He slides a card in a slot by the gleaming elevator door, and we step inside. The elevator quickly swoops downward, and when the doors open, I realize these two are right. This is nothing at all like I’ve seen above. Down here is another world altogether.
I step off the elevator and try to take it all in, but it’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. The bar lines the left side, a gleaming affair lit with golden lights that highlight the bottles upon bottles of drinks and taps. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling in golden clusters, and circular glass high top tables welcome patrons to come and sit for a while. But it isn’t the bar scene that catches my attention first.
A woman walks by on stilettos wearing nothing but the shoes. Her breasts hang free, full and beautiful, and her arse is utter perfection. I blink in surprise, when my eyes cast behind her to a couple on a golden leather loveseat. The woman’s dressed in what appears to be pink latex, her hair plaited, and she’s kneeling before the man. She’s attached to him by a thin metal chain around her neck that clips onto his belt, and he’s spreading his legs for her to service him.
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
Light strings of melodic music plays in the background, and the air is thick with the smell of whiskey and sex. In the far corner of the room, I see various accoutrements lined up, and I’m familiar enough to know there are several spanking benches, a whipping post, and metal rings for restraints.
“Come with us, brother,” Nolan says, leading me past the bar and to another room just off the main entrance. “We’ll see you sorted.” He beckons to three beautiful women dressed in violet dresses that barely cover tits to arse.