“Not today, asshole.”
They walked in the place. Unlike Sonny’s, this place lacked any class. In fact, it exuded tackiness. This time of day, there was only one guy on the door. He looked them over, saw there were six of them and wasn’t about to try to prevent their entrance and sure as hell wasn’t going to demand the cover. Cole wouldn’t have stopped if he had.
Crash and the rest followed Cole to a table, center stage. The few customers the place had, scattered to other tables when they saw the six MC members coming.
They sat down. A moment later, a cocktail waitress approached to take their drink order.
Cole’s eyes ran over her, knowing waitresses could be a font of information, if he used his charm. Going with that, he smiled up at her. “Bourbon, darlin’. Your boss in?”
She nodded.
“What’s his name?”
“Artie. Artie Gorman.”
“He the owner?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Be a sweetheart, and get him for me.”
She nodded. “Yes, sir.” She turned to leave, but he caught her wrist gently, and she turned back to him, her eyes big.
“He treat you girls well?”
She barely shook her head in the negative and whispered, “Not really.”
Cole slid a card across the table and noticed how she glanced around the room, checking to be sure she wasn’t being watched, before taking it. She read it. “Sonny’s Gentleman’s Club?”
“It’s a big step up from this place. He takes care of his girls. Tell him Cole sent you. He’ll treat you right. The other girls, too.” He nodded towards the stage.
“Thanks,” she whispered, pocketing the card and heading off.
Cole turned back to the table. The guys’ attention was all on the dancer on stage. Cole ignored the woman gyrating up there, his eyes instead sliding to the back doorway, where the waitress had headed. He had a clear view down the hall. He could see a big man grab a girl, obviously one of the dancers, by the arm and maul her. Pinning her up against the wall, he forced a kiss on her while he felt her up. Cole elbowed Crash, who looked back at him. Cole nodded toward the hall.
Crash followed the direction of his eyes and commented, “That ain’t right.”
“That look like a man who takes care of his girls to you?”
“Nope. That looks like a man who thinks he’s entitled.”
“When he comes out, go have a word with the girl,” Cole ordered.
Crash nodded. “Will do.”
A few minutes later, Cole saw the waitress reappear, followed by the guy from the hall. She gestured toward their table, and the man followed the direction she indicated, spotting Cole. He headed over to their table. Cole sized him up. He was in his fifties, a big guy with a beer gut and black rimmed glasses. He looked smug and full of himself. Cole’s favorite kind. It was always a pleasure to take his type down a notch or two.
He stopped at the table and stared down at Cole.
“Have a seat,” Cole issued the invitation, which wasn’t an invitation at all, but an order. He nodded to an empty chair.
The man glanced at the chair, but made no move to sit. “Got no business to discuss. You want to drink and stay for the show, fine. Otherwise, you need to leave.”
Crash stood up, so did all the brothers, except Cole, who just smiled up at the man, not breaking eye contact.
“You heard the man, sit down,” Crash growled.
The man broke eye contact with Cole to glance over at Crash and the four brothers at his back. “You try anything I’ll call the cops,” he threatened.