“Nothing happened,” the short blonde whines. “He bought a bottle of champagne, we started dancing for him, and he passed out.”
“And you conveniently kept charging his credit card.” I sneer.
She shrugs.
“Rooster, I’m sorry,” Digger says. Ouch that had to hurt his pride to apologize in front of everyone.
I shake my head, indicating we can discuss it in private. Gotta leave the man his dignity if I want to get this sorted.
The brunette who cracked first really loses it. She screams and slides down the wall until her ass hits the floor. “I didn’t wanna do any of it,” she wails. “They made me. And Josh threatened me.”
“Shut up, you sniveling little bitch.” The taller brunette kicks her in the thigh and the girl on the floor starts wailing even louder.
“Jesus fuck,” Steer groans, covering his ears.
Jigsaw grabs the tall one and yanks her away from the other girls.
“Steer, Jigsaw,” Digger throws them a pleading look. “Would you mind helping me escort them into my office and keep them there, please? I need to have a word with Josh.”
“That the guy out front?” I ask Digger. I wouldn’t mind punching that asshole a few times before we leave.
He nods once and takes out his cell phone. “Let me ask one of my guys to hold him somewhere for me.”
Jigsaw yanks the tall girl out by her wrists while Steer drags the other two by the arms.
“Wait.” I stop them at the door. “Leave her.” I nod to the one who gave up the truth first. Normally, I’m not a fan of snitches but in this case, I’m glad she broke as fast as she did.
She trembles like a kitten in a rainstorm as I nod for her to return to the corner of the room. Doubt she’ll try to make a run for it and we might need more info from her.
Now that it’s a little quieter, Digger shuts the door and pulls out a revolver.
Well, fuck. That escalated fast.
At least he doesn’t point it at any of us.
Dawson hasn’t looked up, so I don’t even think he’s noticed the rising tension in the room.
“Presley,” Digger says in a low, ominous tone. “I took you in. Gave you a home. Gave you a job. Why would you disrespect me like this?”
She bursts into tears.
Dear God, can I just leave?
Click. Digger opens the revolver and slides a bullet in the chamber. “I’m waiting, Presley.”
He still doesn’t point the gun at her, but the threat’s clear.
Her chin trembles as she tries to contain her sobbing. Finally, she opens her mouth. “Josh and Michelle set it up. I think Vanity’s usually in on it with them but she was busy tonight. Skyla seemed to be in on it too but Michelle was definitely in charge. I didn’t know what they were going to do until he passed out. When I tried to leave, she threatened me.” She shrugs and looks down at the carpet. “They wouldn’t let me leave. Josh said he’d come to my apartment and hurt me if I told anyone.”
And this right here is why I wasn’t lying when I told Shelby I’m not interested in going to strip clubs. Way too many girls end up so bitter and jaded after the shitty treatment they get from customers and the owners of the clubs that they see nothing wrong with robbing a guy blind. Or in this case drugging him until he passes out and stealing everything he’s got.
For your regular married guy, who doesn’t want his wife to know, it’s bad enough.
For a celebrity like Dawson, it could probably end his career. Even if he gets the girls locked up, the damage will be done.
In this case it’s even more complicated because this is my fault. I brought him into my club’s place, thinking they’d respect that he was my guest.
“What was the fucking plan?” I ask just to be clear.
“Michelle said he’d wake up in a little while with a headache and fuzzy memory. We’d tell him he must’ve had too much to drink, give him a lap dance, make sure he signed his credit card tab, and send him on his way.”
“Shit. Fuck.” Digger pulls me aside. “I got a call from one of the credit card companies earlier this week. Several customers disputed their bills in the last few months. Figured it was just clients who had buyer’s remorse and were trying to get out of paying.”
I lift my chin at Presley. “How long they been running this scam?”
“I don’t know.” Her pleading eyes land on Digger but he won’t look at her. “I haven’t worked here that long. Michelle and Josh have always been tight though. The girls all gossip about it. Said they were probably fucking.”
Digger nods. “She’s new.”
“Where’s his stuff?” I ask Presley.
“In here.” She reaches into the black ottoman that she’d opened earlier, pulling out a thick wad of cash, a cell phone, and some rings.
Digger glares at her and she hurries over to Dawson so fast she almost slips in the pile of puke on the floor. He lifts his head and stares at her.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Roads.” She holds out her hands overflowing with the shit they jacked off him.
He plucks the rings out of her hands first and slips them on. “That’s not mine,” he says, tapping the bracelet.
“Jesus Christ,” Digger mutters.
Dawson checks the cell phone before stuffing it in his pocket. He takes the cash and counts it quickly, pulling off a couple hundreds and handing them to Presley.
“I reckon that’ll cover the part of the evening I did enjoy,” he says to her with a smile.
All things considered, it’s a classy move. Can’t say I’d do the same in his boots.
Digger tucks his revolver away. “Go home, Presley, and wait for me to stop by. You try running, and I will hunt you the fuck down. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
He stops her at the door. “Do not talk to anyone else in this club. Go to the dressing room, collect your shit, and go home. Understood?”
“Wait, let me have Pants walk her out.” I send him a quick text. “Go over to our table and ask for Pants,” I tell her. “He knows you’re coming. He’ll walk you out so no one bothers you.”
“All right.”
After she leaves, Digger cocks his head.
“You don’t know for sure some of the other girls aren’t involved.”
“Good point. Thanks, brother.” He slaps my shoulder.
Dawson groans as he stands. “I’m gonna take my sorry ass back to our table and let you gentlemen speak.”
“Mr. Roads, I apologize profusely,” Digger says, groveling a little harder than I expected. Good. “This isn’t how I run my establishment.”
“Shit happens. Ain’t easy to find good help these days. I know that better than anyone.” Dawson flips his wallet open. “I am still missing a black AmEx card, though. Your guy, Josh, took it before he allowed me back here.”
“I’ll get it,” Digger promises. “I’ll make sure all the charges are reversed too.”
“Appreciate it.” He nods to me. “Rooster.”
“Dawson.” Fuck me. If Shelby’s gonna stay on this tour, I see a whole lot of groveling in my future.