Page 8 of Fifty

What the hell is a cut?

“Sorry. The leather vests they wear,” she clarifies, catching my look of confusion. “Anyway, they have patches sewn on that indicate their rank within the club. He’s actually an enforcer, which is just a fancy way of saying that he’s the muscle. I guess that’s the one shining quality he inherited from his daddy. That boy knows how to throw a punch, but unlike his daddy, he only does it when it’s necessary,” she adds and I feel like I’m missing something.

“Is everything okay?” I question and she blinks, as if waking up from a dream.

“I’m fine, darlin’. It’s just old memories creeping back in. I’ve known that boy’s momma since our elementary years. She had a hard time for a minute, but both she and that boy made it through it together,” she says and I offer a small nod before moving forward to clear the now dirty table.

???

“How would you feel about doing that performance twice tonight?” Charlie meets me as I exit the stage.

I keep my arm up over my chest as I move towards my station and quickly grab my robe from the back of the chair. Something about talking to my boss when I’m still topless just doesn’t feel right.

“Really?” I question, still feeling slightly out of breath.

“Yeah, really. Marissa just called out. Her kid is sick or some shit, so she can’t make it in tonight. And that crowd, they seemed to love you. I thought I’d offer you the extra slot,” he grins.

“Sure, I’ll do it,” I answer without hesitation. I’d much rather be up on the stage and a little further from the groping hands, than down on the floor delivering drinks and giving lap dances upon request.

“Okay, doll. You’re back on at ten thirty,” he says before disappearing back through the door towards his office.

“Jade,” Marco’s head pops through the outer door. “You’ve got a friend waiting at the bar,” he tells me before quickly vanishing again.

I dig through my station, searching for a change of clothes and find a strappy black dress. I slip it over my head and pull the tight fabric down over my hips, checking in the mirror to make sure all my bits and pieces are covered as much as they can be. I grab my lip gloss and add a fresh layer, then run my fingers down through my long hair before turning and heading out to the main floor.

“Day-um,” Shark grins as his eyes travel up and over me. “That dress is a fuckin’ wet dream,” he chuckles and I feel my skin tingle at the attention. It’s hard to believe any of these guys would even consider looking at a girl in a dress when there are topless ones on stage dancing in nothing, except barely there g-strings.

“I missed you the last few nights,” he says as I sit down and take the glass that Jimmy already has poured and waiting for me.

“You know my days off. I’m sure you didn’t miss me all that much with the company of these beautiful ladies,” I reply playfully.

“None of ‘em have what you have, sweetheart,” he winks. He’s really laying it on thick tonight. He’s always flirty and playful, but this feels different.

“So, guess what happened to me over the weekend,” I prompt, trying to lighten the air between us. He shrugs, taking a long pull from his bottle of beer.

“I met a few of your friends,” I offer, gesturing towards his leather cut.

“No shit. I didn’t realize any of the boys decided to finally come check the place out. They all turned me down when I suggested it. None of them liked the idea of paying to look at tits and ass when they generally get handed both for free. Plus, at the clubhouse they usually get to touch if they want to,” he offers with a crude laugh and I cringe at his words.

“Actually, it wasn’t here. I have another job, waiting tables a few days a week at a small diner in town,” I share. “They came in Sunday morning and looked a little rough, must’ve been a good party Saturday night,” I smile, trying to get the normal Shark to come back out.

“Shit, yeah it was. Our V.P. just got sprung from a thirty-day stint. We had a little welcome home celebration in his honor. Maybe someday you’ll finally accept my invitation. You’ll see that the Savages throw one hell of a party,” he grins, repeating the offer he’s made a few times before.

“I’m sure you do, but you know that most of my Saturday nights are spent right here,” I say tapping my finger lightly against the bar.

“So, which of my boys had the pleasure of meeting you?” he asks. I stare blankly at him in return. I rack my brain, but for the life of me, I can’t seem to remember the silly nickname that Gloria used.

“Uh…I only got one name. Shorty or Shifty or something like that. Apparently he’s an enforcer, if that means anything,” I say and his eyes light up.

“Ahhh, yes. That would be Fifty, my partner in crime,” he releases a deep chuckle as he points to a small patch on his chest and I read the embroidered white letters spelling out ENFORCER.

“Yup, that’s it. You guys and your nicknames,” I laugh in response as my mind repeats the name, Fifty…

“Seriously, you only got one name? My boys must be losing their fucking edge. A fox like you and none of ‘em even tried to make a move?” he questions in disbelief.

“Nope,” I shake my head. “Well, Fifty did offer me a bite of his pancakes, but that was the extent of any moves being made,” I share.

“Shit, sugar. He wanted you to taste more than his fucking pancakes. I’m damn sure of that,” he chuckles and I feel my skin heat at the thought.

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