Page 13 of The Reluctant Siren
“Hey, was that lady okay?”
Jensen glanced over and noticed one of the new guys standingin the doorway. Jack Cameron had been hired on as a bartender the week beforeand seemed to be a good kid. Kid? Hell, Jensen was only a couple of years olderthan Jack was, but he felt like there were decades between them. According tohis “application,” Jack Cameron was twenty-two and fresh out of college with amountain of debt and no job to show for it. He had some bartending experience,so he was falling back on it.
It was the story of so many young people these days. It madethem vulnerable to people like Hamilton who told them he could solve theirproblems, who offered them a different way out. One that led to a shallow graveor jail time.
Jack showed up for work every night for the last three weeksand in a few more, he would be asked to run an errand. That errand would behighly criminal and they would have evidence, and then Jack Cameron would havefar worse bills to pay than his student loans.
“She’s on her way home. Her sister is waiting for her there.I managed to get her to call home to make sure she wouldn’t be alone and thatsomeone is looking for her. The asshole she came with didn’t care. He was toobusy hitting on some other woman.” Jensen looked to the younger man. He was ahandsome kid and earnest as hell. This was exactly the vulnerable young peopleHamilton liked to screw over. If there was any way to get him out before thiswent down, he would. “The fire play scene freaked her out.”
“Yeah, I can see how. That’s an advanced scene,” Jack saidwith a frown, letting the door close behind him. He didn’t do what most of thestaff did. He didn’t reach for a pack of smokes or a vape. He had a bottle ofwater in his hand. “Given how this is a tourist place I’m surprised it’s okayto run a scene like that.” He seemed to remember something—likely that thewhole place had ears—and held his hands up. “But I’m just a bartender. Whatwould I know?”
Jensen tilted his head, taking in the young man. He had darkhair and green eyes and the kind of lean, muscular body that would ensure hedidn’t lack for any kind of romantic attention he might want. Likely fromwomen, but there was something about the young man that made him think he mightbe a bit more sexually fluid than that. Which never bothered him. He’d been hiton by guys before and merely took it as a compliment, explained his ownsexuality and thanked them for their interest. Harlow told him watching himhandle getting hit on by a dude made her interested in him. “You sound like youknow a lot.Touristandplayand even the wordscenemean something in a place like this.”
It would if this club was legit, but he didn’t talk aboutthat to the uninitiated.
“Oh, yeah. I did some research when I first hired on,” Jackadmitted. “I heard of it, of course. We talked a lot about it when I was inschool. I’m interested in the psychology of the lifestyle. I was thinking aboutmaybe making a study of it for my graduate work. I mean when I can get back toschool, of course. I have to pay off the first degree, which is surprisinglyhard. You know you can’t do much with an undergraduate psych degree. Apparentlyyou can bartend.”
Jensen hadn’t even thought about going to college. He’d goneinto the military and scrimped and saved to try to make things easier forTommy. Tommy was the smart one. Tommy was the one who had a future.
Sometimes he wished it had been him instead of Tommy andthat Tommy had met a girl like Harlow and they named their first kid after hisfuck-up brother Jensen who loved him the best he could.
What the hell was he going to do after he took care ofHamilton? It was a question he never would have asked before he met Harlow. Nowhe had to ask what he actually had to offer her if he ever managed to get herback.
“You okay?” Jack asked, studying him.
He had to get his damn head in the game. Again, he blamedbeing close to her. Seeing pictures of her because he was a weirdo freakstalker. She was starting to look happy again, the smiles reaching her eyes.
It had taken every fucking thing he had to not go to herwhen he found out she’d been shot while protecting a friend. Niall had to givehim secondhand information since he’d only recently joined the club and wasn’tin her inner circle. They seemed to be friendlier now, but he would bet theywould never be close.
“I’m good, just tired.” He didn’t even talk to Niall abouthow hard it was to be close to her. As far as Niall knew he was watching overHarlow because Jensen felt guilty. He hadn’t told Niall how much he hoped hewould have another shot with her, that all of this was about getting back toher. He had specifically told Niall he didn’t want to hear about all the Domsshe was playing with.
She deserved to have fun, deserved to have someone in herlife who took care of her, and right now that couldn’t be him.
Niall would mention it if she was getting serious withsomeone. Right? Surely it would come up in conversation.
“You seem different than the other guys who work here,” Jacksaid, leaning against the brick wall.
That was good for his soul. Not so great for his cover.Still, he wasn’t about to freak out because that might cause more questions. Sohe posed one of his own. “How so?”
Jack’s green eyes stared his way as though he was trying tofigure out how much to say. There were times when the young man seemed a littleolder, a bit smarter than he pretended to be, but that might help him in thelong run. “You care more than the others. The other monitors would have bootedher without any help. They would have been upset she was causing a scene andhave her hauled out. They wouldn’t have made sure the dude who drank too muchhad a buddy who could get him home.”
“That was a good call, by the way.” Jack had been the one tocut the guy off. It hadn’t gone well. “I think he was about to pass out, butnot before he did some damage. You were right to refuse to serve him.”
“I’m not supposed to, you know.” Jack sighed. “I already gota lecture about how as long as the card is processing, I should keep pouring.”
“I’ll talk to them,” Jensen promised, though he knew itwouldn’t do any good. He might be able to sway management if he could convincethem they would get more attention than they wanted if something bad happened.A lawsuit would get eyes on the club, and that was the last thing they wanted.
“And that is why I say you’re different,” Jack pointed out.“It’s weird. No one else here seems to care what happens on the dungeon floor.I have to wonder if other clubs are like this. If you tell anyone I said thisI’ll call you a liar, but when I did a bunch of research, I have to admit thephilosophy behind this lifestyle kind of called to me.”
Jensen shook his head. He felt for the kid since he was inthe same position. The philosophy—communication, asking for what a participantwanted, taking sexuality seriously—called to him, too. But he wouldn’t findthat here. “This isn’t a real club. You were right when you called it a touristplace. You need to think of this as a nightclub with a sex theme. There’s noreal philosophy here.”
“But a nightclub doesn’t have…” Jack stopped and sighed. “Iwas about to say women don’t get smacked up at a nightclub, but we both knowthat’s not true. I wouldn’t use that word if it was a real club since consentwould be at the heart of every interaction, but they let drunk people play.”
At The Hideout you can do one or the other. Drink hardor play hard. Trust me. There are times when you need to get wasted and hangwith your friends, but that’s why we put the bar on the second level and towardthe back. To delineate the space. And there’s always someone ready to set youon your ass if you get out of line. That’s what family does.
He wanted to be part of that family. Harlow’s carefullyculled club family sounded perfect to a man who lost everyone except onefriend. He wanted to sit in that bar and take care of her if she needed to shuther brain off for a little while, help his friends out because they counted onhim.
“A real club restricts alcohol or any substance that makesconsent questionable. If you’re interested in the lifestyle, there are a coupleof places you could check out,” Jensen offered. It fucking felt good to behelpful. So often lately all he felt was how he was dragging other people intohis hell.
