Page 12 of Fang
He doesn’t have to look at me for me to know the question is aimed at me.
“No, no I don’t like the attention,” I tell him.
He nods. “That’s what I thought. See, asswipe, she doesn’t like it. That means no touchy touch.”
“You good, Happy, or do you want me to take him?” Frank, one of the bouncers, asks as he walks up.
“You can take him, but before you cut him loose, get his info. Fang will want him banned along with the others.”
“Wait, you can’t do that! You’re one of the only titty bars in the area!” the guy whines.
“You should have thought about that before you fucked around and found out,” Frank deadpans as he slams his hand on the guy’s shoulder.
The man almost crumples to the floor with the force with which Frank grabs him. I know it’s wrong, but it makes me smile.
Serves the dickhead right.
Happy sighs and turns toward me.
“What?” I ask as I try not to squirm under his unwavering stare.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Happy grimaces.
“Done what?” I ask, confused.
“Come out here to see what the hell was going on. You could have gotten hurt, and then it would be my head on the line.” He runs his hand down his face.
I scoff. “Your head would be fine.”
Happy shoots me a look that says I’m full of shit.
“Well, I’m going to go get ready for my next dance,” I tell him.
Happy shakes his head as I take a step back.
“The only place you’re going is Fang’s office.”
“What? Why?” I gasp.
“Because he’s going to need to talk to you about what went down. You have a red mark on your arm, and it’s probably going to leave a bruise.”
“I have to go on soon, though,” I remind him.
“Not until you talk to Fang.”
“This is bullshit,” I hiss as I cross my arms over my chest.
“Yeah, I couldn’t agree more. Now go wait in his office. He will be here soon.”
Could I ignore him and go get ready? Sure, but I know it would be futile. Happy would track my ass down and drag me to Fang’s office, kicking and screaming. No, I’d rather run the risk of being a little late for my next set than being tossed over Happy’s shoulder half-dressed and then having to sit in front of Fang wearing barely nothing.
Pride can be a fickle bitch over the oddest things. I’ll be a good girl and wait in the office, but that’s it.
I open the door into Tires to Go and heads turn toward me. One lady sucks in a gasp, but I ignore her as I walk toward the front desk.
“Can I help you?” the guy behind the counter asks.
“Yeah, I’m here to pick something up,” I tell him.
