Page 67 of Nest of Thieves
Hitting the button for the garage door, I patiently wait for it to open. As soon as the Corvette will clear the door, I press on the gas and launch toward the gate at the bottom of the driveway. The gate opens, and I tear out of the neighborhood, laughing as the car rumbles beneath me.
* * *
Four hours later, I’ve finally tracked down a dealer. It took me a bit since I don’t have any connections, but eventually, I found a beta female and pleaded my case. Turns out a lot of people pity omegas for having to go through their heat.
“Just keep your head down and follow my lead. Ricky won’t sell to you if he doesn’t like you.” Charlie, my beta savior, gives me a once-over. “Do you have a sweater to cover up? Ricky gets distracted by boobs.”
Ricky sounds like a doll.
“No. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I say, eyeing the brick building. We’re going into a strip club to meet Ricky. There’s bound to be full tits on display. Why would he care about mine? The neon sign above the door has two light bulbs out and reads Op instead of Coop. There’s a poster on the outside wall displaying a gorgeous woman with enough T & A to make me a little envious.
“Hey,” Charlie says to the bouncer.
“Here for Ricky?” The guy flicks his gaze over me but quickly dismisses me, assuming I’m just another pretty face.
“Yup. She’s with me.”
The bouncer nods and lets us in, scowling at a group of rowdy guys who come up behind us. Aside from the dim lighting on stage, Coop is dark. It’s hard to make out the faces at the tables, but that’s by design. Coop isn’t a strip club you go to if you want to be seen. Heavy bass pumps through the room, and a leggy brunette with thick hips and thighs grabs the pole, hooking her leg around it and spinning like a seasoned pro.
“Jo?” Charlie asks.
I glance at her and fight off a blush. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Stormy is the best dancer in this place. It’s hard for me not to watch, and I’ve been in here a thousand times.” Charlie grins at me and leads me toward a secluded round booth at the far end of the club. One man sits at the circular table, a cigarette dangling from his mouth as he watches Stormy. The man standing to the side of the booth steps in front of Charlie.
“Come on, T. You know me.”
“Who’s your friend?” T asks, tipping his chin in my direction.
Ricky doesn’t even glance in our direction.
“‘I’m Jo,” I say to T, sticking my hand out for him to shake. He and Charlie eye it. T doesn’t take my hand, so I awkwardly drop it to my side.
“Sorry, man. She’s new. Can we talk to Ricky? She’s buying.”
T sucks in his left cheek and studies me. “You vouch for her?”
Maybe I should leave. I didn’t know she’d have to vouch, and if I do anything to piss Ricky off, he’s going to come for her.
“Yes.” Charlie doesn’t hesitate.
Fuck. Guilt isn’t an emotion I’m used to, but it slowly spreads through me. No matter what, I have to behave. Charlie is helping me, and she doesn’t deserve the shit end of the stick because she trusted an omega who is the very definition of trouble.
“All right.” T rubs his jaw and steps aside.
Charlie steps up to the table, and Ricky finally pulls his gaze from Stormy. He grabs the cigarette from his mouth and taps the end of it on the ashtray.
“I gave you your supply for the week.” Taking a drag of the cigarette, he narrows his eyes on her. “Why are you here?”
“Hey, Ricky. I know it’s not time for a re-up, but I don’t have what Jo needs.” Charlie gestures at me. “She needs some heat suppressors.”
“Does she, now?” Ricky says around a mouthful of smoke. His low ponytail is thin, his hair not nearly as full and pretty as Lark’s.
I chew on my lip but stay quiet as Charlie asked.
“Yeah. Jo, this is Ricky. How many suppressants do you need?” Charlie shifts to the side so Ricky can take me in.
His gaze crawls over me like a thousand ants marching over my skin. “Sit.” Ricky isn’t an alpha, but his voice is full of authority. Sitting is non-negotiable.
