Page 10 of Desperately Delicate Viper

I slow my steps as I near Rabbit, and he hesitates for just a fraction of a second before nodding and letting me through.

“Good man,” I mutter, slipping a folded bill into his hand as I pass.

It’s even more crowded inside than it was last night. The air is sticky and humid with the heavy breathing and sweaty, writhing bodies that pack the space. My heart picks up speed in time with the fast, sensual beat of the song that’s blaring through the man speakers.

Tonight, scantily clad men and women dance inside the cages on the edges of the dance floor. Colored strobe lights illuminate each of them as they swivel their hips and tempt patrons to toss money at their feet with nothing but the movements of their bodies and a few well-placed smiles. I’ve been one of those panting customers before, shoving money at them and hoping they’ll look in my direction. But now that I’ve had a taste of what Ireallywant, there’s only one man on my mind.

Maybe it’s possessive or unhinged to spend one night with a man and decide he’s mine. I don’t care if it is. Andersismine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to convince him of that. But first, I need to find him.

There aren’t any open seats at the bar tonight, which is fine because I’m too keyed up to sit down anyway. I eye the bartenders who are working tonight, trying to decide who’s most likely to know Anders and be willing to give me information. Obviously, I don’t need any more of Caterpillar’s cryptic bullshit.I quickly dismiss the blond with big blue eyes I’ve never seen before as well, because something about the dazed, in-over-his-head expression screams “newbie.” Which leaves just one option.

I sidle up to the bar, forcing my way between a couple of customers, meeting their squawks of protest with a menacing glare that has their mouths snapping shut instantly. While I wait to catch the bartender’s attention, I scan the length of the bar just to make sure I’m not so focused on tracking Anders down that I miss him altogether. But he’s not here. At least, not yet.

The bartender I need is wearing an off-kilter top hat, which he does most nights, tilting it to accept tips from customers as he hustles up and down the length of the bar. There’s a wild air about him—something about the look in his eyes. Or maybe it’s his messy, dark hair that sticks up in all directions whenever he pulls the hat off. He’s tall and slender, both his arms covered in colorful ink from wrist to shoulder. Among the kaleidoscope of color is a Sleepless Reapers tattoo that’s barely visible, obscured by the rest like he’s tried to have it covered up, but nothing can quite erase that piece of his past, no matter how hard he tries. Mads, which is the name scrawled messily on his nametag, finally spots me and practically skips down to greet me with a lopsided smile and a tilt of his head.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Luca Moretti here for a second night in a row. Meeting someone?” He arches his eyebrows and then waggles them.

“I would think you lot have better things to gossip about than my comings and goings,” I mutter.

Mads leans across the bar towards me. “It’s not that we’re so interested in thegoings.” He winks. “Now, what are you drinking?”

“Nothing tonight. I’m looking for someone, actually.”

“Aren’t we all,” he says with a chuckle. I huff, trying my damnedest to hold on to my patience. If I wanted riddles, I would have just asked Caterpillar about Anders again.

“Someone specific,” I clarify. “He was here last night. His name is Anders and he’s… he picks up clients here. I’m assuming he’s a regular.” I give him a meaningful look and the jovial expression on Mads’s face hardens into a careful mask.

“I don’t know, man. We get a lot of people in here. All kinds of people who come in for all kinds of reasons.” He shrugs, already taking a step back and angling his body away like he’s about to make a quick escape. “And if you’re not going to order a drink, I really need to keep moving. The Red Queen will have my head if he peeks out of his office and sees me standing around chatting.”

I’ve always prided myself on being a fairly levelheaded guy, but tonight my patience is hanging on by a thread. Unfortunately for Mads, he has the misfortune of being the one to make it snap. I put both hands on the bar top and vault over it, the momentum carrying me. As soon as my feet touch the ground, I close the space between us and gather the front of his shirt in two fists. The shelf of half-full bottles lining the back wall rattles as I shove him up against it. His top hat tumbles off and falls to the floor by our feet, spilling crumpled cash and a few random odds and ends.

“I’m not fucking playing, Mads. I just need to know how often he usually comes in.”

The color drains from his face, making him look sickly under the green light shining directly above us.

“Calm your fucking tits, Moretti,” he says with more bravado than is written on his face. “What do you want with Anders anyway?”

“None of your damn business,” I growl, my frustration mounting.

“Problem?” A familiar, drawling voice asks. I glance over my shoulder to see Caterpillar with a baseball bat in one hand, his usual joint hanging from his lips and one of his bushy eyebrows raised in my direction.

“Not if Mads will answer my fucking question.” I tighten my grip and shove him against the shelves again, sending a bottle of vodka tumbling from its spot to shatter on the floor, soaking our feet and a good portion of his money.

I’m not sure how I hear it over the music and the drone of voices, but a sharp gasp has me jerking my head to the other side just in time to see Anders standing a few feet away, his eyes wide with unmistakable terror.

I drop Mads immediately and he stumbles to the side. Whether he regains his balance is of no interest to me. I have one singular focus, and that’s the angel-faced viper standing just on the other side of the bar.

“Anders,” I bark his name with relief, my feet carrying me towards him without conscious thought.

His lips part on what looks like another startled inhale, and before I can hop back over the bar, he bolts.

ANDERS

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

I chant the curse in my head as I duck and weave my way through the crowd of sweaty bodies. I knew I shouldn’t have come back here tonight, but the only alternative would have been to find a corner in the warehouse district like everyone else, and that’s always a last resort. Anyone who’s sold sex knows the street is fucking dangerous. I’m just as likely to get beaten up and stiffed for payment as I am to have everything go well, and I don’t like those odds. And forget charging like I do. Not when there’s someone standing five feet away willing to do the same job for twenty bucks to cover their next fix.

That’s Tomorrow Anders’s problem though, assuming I live to see another day. It’s not looking all that promising at the moment. I don’t check behind me to see if he’s coming, because I’m positive he is. And if I’m about to die, I really wish my first thought when I spotted Luca hadn’t been how fucking hot he looked threatening poor Mads. Like, really, Anders, have enough self-respect to not get a boner over your own damn murderer.

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