“Come on, there’s this new waitress I’m digging. I think I’m starting to wear her down.” He flashed a grin.

I could only imagine what his version of wearing her down would consist of, but the distraction in the form of visual stimulation might prove helpful. “I’ll think about it.”

I swiveled in my chair, turning back to my station to prepare for my next client. Tenley was gone anyway, and I doubted she’d stop by tonight. I shouldn’t have kissed her on the cheek. It was too fucking forward, which was laughable, considering the alternative scenarios I’d been entertaining.

It was just before closing, and I was inking an American flag on some guy’s ass. Most ass tattoos took place in one of the private rooms because the general public preferred not to show off their parts in a busy studio. But the guy in my chair flat out refused. Maybe he had a thing for exhibitionism, because he insisted on baring it all front and center in the shop.

The only benefit to the awkward situation was the chance to keep an eye out for Tenley. It was late by the time she came home. She looked in the direction of the shop and her steps faltered, like maybe she was thinking about coming in. She didn’t, though. Instead she continued down the narrow alley leading to the back of Serendipity. A minute later, lights came on in her apartment. It was the last I saw of her that evening, but that didn’t stop my mind from wandering in her direction.

Against my better judgment, I accompanied Chris to The Dollhouse. By the time we got there I wished I’d downed a few shots of tequila to help make the evening bearable. But that would have meant relying on Chris to get home. I wanted to be able to make my own escape if necessary. Our waitress was a girl named Sarah, who had pale blond hair. Chris had chosen the table specifically because she was working the section. Given the fact that she was his most recent conquest target, I felt bad for her. Chris could be persistent.

From what Chris said, she hadn’t been working there long. Staff turnover at such establishments tended to be high thanks to people like Sienna, who treated her employees like commodities rather than human beings. Everything could be sold for the right price, especially dignity. Sarah seemed unaffected by Chris’s charm, which meant his reputation probably preceded him. Rather than titter like an idiot over his compliments, she ignored them and told him off when he asked for her number. I liked her.

It took him all of five minutes to get over the rejection. Chris stuck a five-dollar bill in a dancer’s thong. She shook her ass in his face. I sighed and checked the time.

“You need to relax, you’re too uptight,” Chris said, exasperated with my attitude.

“I’m always uptight.” I took a long draft of the overpriced, crappy beer and surveyed the club. No Sienna. Thank fuck. I’d been on the fence about coming in until we’d pulled into the lot to find her car wasn’t there. If I was lucky, I’d get in a couple of beers and leave without running into her at all.

Chris left me alone for a few minutes while the dancer rubbed herself on the pole. I imagined it would require a heavy-duty sanitizing by the end of the night. Once her set was over, Chris started up again, seeking a way to rectify my pissy mood.

“What about that one?” He pointed to a nondescript girl making her rounds with a tray of shooters.

I barely glanced in her direction. Unlike our waitress, she was artificially blond. “Not my type.” Not that naturally blond was any more my style.

“Since when do you have a type? Seriously man, you should unwind.”

Thanks to Chris’s irritating insistence that I needed some sort of action tonight, he ended up paying some poor girl who smelled like stale cigarettes and cheap perfume to give me a lap dance. But instead of feeling aroused, a heavier emotion settled into my gut. It felt something like guilt, maybe? Halfway through the song, I couldn’t take it anymore. I ushered her over to Chris, where she resumed dancing. Chris looked annoyed, which inflated my mood. We politely declined when she offered additional services, compliments of management.

Shit. Our presence hadn’t gone unnoticed. Across the room I spotted Sienna sitting at the side of the bar closest to her personal security guard, chatting with a suited-up businessman. Looked like she wasn’t taking the night off after all. She flipped her bleached-out hair over her shoulder and tipped her drink in my direction. I looked away, uninterested in whatever game she wanted to play, when Damen pulled up a chair beside Chris. I wasn’t surprised to see his ugly face. If he wasn’t working at his tattoo studio, Art Addicts, he was here, pushing other addictions. At least he knew better than to sit beside me. He and Chris engaged in some stupid-ass handshake-shoulder-bumping garbage like they were best buddies.

It bothered me the way Chris always sought Damen’s approval, like he was some messed-up version of a father figure. I supposed that in a lot of ways Damen assumed that role for Chris when we worked for him years ago. From what I understood, he took Chris in when his parents would no longer deal with his antics. Damen’s accommodations had turned out to be more of a den of iniquity, but Chris hadn’t been in much of a position to complain. Not that he had. Chris hadn’t seen his own family in years, and Damen was a master at exploiting insecurities. When it had come to Chris, he’d heaped on the praise, knowing how little it took to gain Chris’s loyalty and lead him astray. Chris was a talented artist, but sometimes he lacked common sense, and that got him into trouble.

Even back when I was a kid, barely eighteen and working my first job at Art Addicts as a piercer, I never fell for Damen’s bullshit. Sure, I took advantage of the drugs and the access to women, but that was where it ended. I hadn’t needed his approval. Which was why, after three years of dealing with him and all the crap that had come with him, I’d gotten out. I hadn’t done it on my own, though; Jamie had been the driving force, and Chris had come along for the ride. If I hadn’t escaped the drugs, I would have OD’d at some point.

Damen reclined in his chair, looking like he owned the place. His black hair was slicked back, his receding hairline pronounced. His aquiline nose and vicious smile made him look like the vulture he was.

“Hayden, it’s good to see you. I was telling Chris the last time he was here he should bring you by. You here for the women, or are you looking to do business?”

“Chris is here for the women. I’m here to ruin his night.” I swished my beer around in my glass.

Damen had been hounding Chris about merging studios for a long time. I adamantly refused the offer. Damen had a hard time keeping artists at his shop. I’d witnessed the slow decline as they got hooked on blow, or whatever else he was selling, until performing their actual job became a challenge. I’d been at risk of going down the same path at one point. I had no intention of being dragged back into his bullshit crooked dealings. I ran a clean shop, made legitimate money, and served no one’s interests but my own. Partnering up with Damen would mean bending to someone else’s whims. Chris was too caught up in keeping things amicable to say no outright, so he always pussyfooted around an answer.

“You seem a little tense. I think I’ve got exactly what you need to relax.” Damen slipped his hand inside his jacket and discreetly pulled out a small baggie. It looked like coke was the drug of choice tonight.

“I’m good with the beer.” I held up the almost-empty glass.

After offering it to Chris, who declined, Damen slid the baggie back into his pocket.

“Maybe you need a different kind of relaxation?”

Damen raised his hand in the air and a tiny brunette rushed over. The bra she wore didn’t even cover her nipples, and her skirt could have doubled as a headband, with the way her ass was hanging out the back. He beckoned her closer and said something in her ear. Her eyes moved over me, then back to him, whispering so we couldn’t hear. He laughed and slapped her ass, leaving a palm print behind as she scurried away. He was such a cocksucker.