Page 30 of Wild Temple
He was a large guy for the area, standing about 6’2”. He looked eastern European. He had dark eyes, a razor-sharp jaw, and a trim goatee. His long, dark hair was greasy and flowed to his shoulders. He wore a gray suit, a black collared shirt, and a black tie.
We stepped into a hallway that led to the club. Music spilled down the corridor. It wasn't an earsplitting techno club.
A few feet to the right, behind bulletproof glass, was a cashier. The girl was a petite Southeast Asian woman in her mid-40s.
The bouncer began to pat Rafi down.
Rafi grew indignant. “What the fuck? Is that necessary? How many times have I brought you good business?”
"You know the rules," the bouncer said.
He finished patting Rafi down, then moved to me.
"My friend does not like to be touched," Rafi warned.
"Then he came to the wrong place."
It was at that point when two more bouncers dragged a drunk American into the hallway from the lounge, kicking and screaming.
"What the fuck!” he slurred. “Get your hands off me. I didn't do anything.”
They ignored his protests and continued pulling him down the hallway toward us.
"I paid good money. I want what's coming to me."
"You'll get it," one of the bouncers assured.
The belligerent American broke free and kicked one of the bouncers in the shin. That was enough of a distraction for the door guy to join in and lend a hand.
The American put up a hell of a fight, but the three of them managed to pin him to the ground, pick him up, and carry him outside.
Rafi held the door for them as they carted him into the alleyway and proceeded to beat the living shit out of the guy.
Rafi closed the door, and we moved to the cashier. I paid the expensive cover, and we ambled down the hallway and stepped into the main lounge.
Chill music pumped through speakers. The setting was elegant and upscale. There were leather couches and chairs and secluded booths with curtains that could be pulled shut for privacy. The walls were black. LED lights that slowly changed colors illuminated liquor bottles behind the bar.
Cocktail waitresses in short skirts and fishnet stockings darted around, serving drinks. This wasn't your average adult club. There was no main stage. No exotic beauties peeling off frilly articles of clothing.
"Where are the girls?" I muttered to Rafi.
"Upstairs.” He gave a subtle nod to a door across the room with a lone bruiser standing guard.
"How does this work?”
Rafi pointed to a nearby booth and suggested we have a seat.
It wasn’t long before a pretty waitress came by and took our drink order. That was the first order of business. You didn'teven get to see the real menu until you had already ordered a drink.
"We want the Opal special," Rafi said.
She pulled a small tablet from her apron, tapped the screen a few times, then handed the device to Rafi.
He handed it to me.
It was absolutely horrifying.
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