New Story - written exclusively on Steemit - WiP - Bouncer Part 40

This is turning out to be quite a tale (I know, my opinion...) and I think it'll make a novel-sized story.

I'm listening to the feedback and if something resonates, I've decided that I'll go with it (thanks @kiwideb).

Feel free to give feedback on characters, storylines etc - even if you think it's harsh.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39

Pictures from Google free to use search

Please note: This is the FIRST DRAFT, no editing, written straight onto paper. I don't know how to highlight that any more than it is. I'll NOT be making any alterations to what's already been written. As a good friend and excellent author has said, First draft is a race to get the story down before it decides to stop telling itself to you. Thanks Glenn. @alienbutt

89 pages, 35,017 words so far.

What do you think of this for a cover?

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The VIP Lounge was a large room, brightly lit, with tables and sumptuous chairs dotted about. On each table stood an ice bucket with a bottle of Champagne inside, chilling.

The sole bar tender waited behind the bar. She wore a white shirt with a black satin waistcoat over, and a bow tie to finish the ensemble.

The room looked classy and elegant and the lights changed shade and then hue as the audience watched.

Two large doormen stood on the inside of the doors and Viktor was the first to cross the threshold. The doors opened automatically as he flashed his membership card at an electronic reader.

It seemed the days of ‘Your name’s not down, you’re not coming in’ are past and the days of ‘You don’t have your membership card, you’re not coming in’ are here.

As the audience watched, the girl with the multi-coloured hair stepped into the room and walked across to the bar. She did not look pleased, she scowled as she approached the bar. She waited at the side until the original bartender allowed her access and together they waited for their first orders.

The VIPs that had received their invitations personally via post moved forward to go through to the VIP room. As the rest of the crowd realised there would be nothing more to see, they turned and made their way back to their own entertainment.

The cage dancers had arrived and entered their cages as the audience had been distracted and as the crowds moved to the beat of the DJ’s music, Nyx started taking pictures again.

Zack caught her eye and she put up her thumb and smiled to say his idea was working.

Zack had not had chance to catch up with Joe to tell him about the arrangements with the new in-house photographer and he had a mild flutter of panic as he saw Joe across the room.

Joe turned and spotted Nyx. His face spoke volumes to Zack and he pushed through the crowds.

“How the hell did everyone manage to get in my way just when I’m in a hurry?” he said to himself.

He caught up with Joe and nodded that they should talk.

“Not now, Zack, there’s something I have to deal with,” he said and moved forward.

“Joe!” Zack called after him and he had no choice but to follow.

Joe reached the dance cage where Nyx was working and he reached out one huge hand and grabbed hold of an arm. He jerked back his arm and pulled a guy from the crowd.

Nyx looked around for a second but continued taking pictures.

Joe part-pushed, part-carried the guy to the edge of the room where it was a little quieter.

“Gimme that,” Joe said to the guy and he took something from his hand. He turned the guy around and patted him down.

The guy looked at Joe and then at Zack. He had the expression of innocence about him that Zack had seen so many times on people that have practiced lying.

“What did he steal?” Zack said.

“Steal? I don’t steal!” the guy protested.

“Shut the fuck up,” Zack said.

“You can’t talk to me like that!” the guy said. “You’re supposed to be polite to customers.”

“You’re not a customer, you’re a pickpocket and if he wants to rip your arms off and beat you to death with the soggy end, he could and no one would miss you, you waste of skin,” Joe said.

Joe took hold of the guy’s collar and ‘encouraged’ him out of the main room and through a door marked PRIVATE.

Anthony looked up when they entered and as soon as he saw they were not alone, he locked his computer down, pushed the keyboard under his desk, stood up and left the room without a word.

“Where’s he going? Why is he leaving?” the guy said in a less-confident voice.

“He doesn’t want to witness anything,” Joe said in a menacing tone. Joe could play the part well. His standard facial expression was never far from ‘annoyed’ and he could turn on ‘furious’ with little effort. At that moment, he was between ‘annoyed’ and ‘furious’ and the pick-pocket’s innocent stance had evaporated.

“Jeans, drop ‘em,” Joe said. “Shoes, off.”

“I’m not stripping in front of you fuckers!” he said.

Zack didn’t say a thing, he watched Joe work.

Joe handed Zack what he’d liberated from the pick-pocket’s hand earlier.

One of Nyx’s spare batteries.

Zack turned it over in his hand. “You know how much these things cost?” he said to Joe.

“Yeah, about £45,” Joe said.

“Fuck, that’s a big hit for a student,” Zack said. “Lucky you found it for her. She’ll be relieved to get this back, I think.”