New Story - written exclusively on Steemit - WiP - Bouncer Part 44

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 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43

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

97 pages, 38,331 words so far.

What do you think of this for a cover?

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A banknote lay to the side of her, it had started to unfurl from the tight tube it had been rolled into.

Suddenly angry, Liz took hold of the woman’s feet and jerked her out of the stall from under Zack’s legs.

The woman seemed to be coming round once she was lying on the floor of the men’s room rather than crushed between the wall and the toilet bowl in the stall.

She lifted her head, her eyes half-open. Liz noticed white powder across her top lip, under her nose.

Liz leaned down to grab hold of the woman’s dress. She grasped the straps of her bra too and jerked her up, close to her own face. “You filthy junkie bitch!” Liz hissed at her. “Get the fuck out of my club and don’t fucking think of coming back!”

Liz dropped the woman and her head hit the tiled floor. Liz took out her phone and took a picture of the woman’s face – white powder and all. As an after-thought, she took a step back and took a full-length picture of the woman. Her dress had ridden up as Liz pulled her out of the stall. She wore no underwear and Liz took a couple of fully-exposed pictures.

The woman realised what she was doing and suddenly became more animated.

“No!” she said, pulling down the hem of her dress.

“Put it this way, bitch,” Liz said. “If you come back, these will be emailed to your family. I don’t think your grandmother will like them and I know your grandfather will cut you out of any will he has if he sees them. I suggest you take your scummy, skanky self back to the Mother Land and don’t plan on coming back. I thought I recognised you!”

The woman scrambled up and leaned over one of the sinks, splashing water onto her face to remove the tell-tale white powder. She grabbed a handful of hand towels and didn’t care that she scattered them across the floor. Foundation and mascara stained the pristine white of the hand towel she used and she flung it across the sinks.

Zack spoke into the radio. “Emergency clean-up in the VIP men’s room please,” he said.

Within seconds the door opened and a young man with a mop and bucket came in. “I hope it’s not puke,” he said.

Zack laughed. “No, it’s not puke, just a bit of water and could you splash some bleach around in the last stall please? Also, if you could tidy the towels and take away the dirty ones?”

“Sure,” the young man said. He took out a large spray bottle and went to work saturating the inside of the stall. “There’s twenty quid in here,” he said.

“Clean it off and keep it,” Liz said.

Zack ‘helped’ the woman out of the toilets and took her straight down the stairs. “Off you fuck,” he said to her as he pushed her out of the fire escape, onto the street.

“Don’t bother coming back, I’m putting your picture on the Pub Watch website,” Liz said. She turned to Zack and said, “I’ll let Mikhail know she’s left.”

Zack nodded and went to the front door.

“Can I help you, officers?” Zack said. He had regained his full composure and looked cool, calm and collected.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d allow us in, there’s been a report of narcotics use and possible dealing,” the officer in charge said.

Zack put on his surprised look. “Of course, officers,” he said, stepping to one side to allow them in. “I’ll show you the way to the VIP room, shall I?”

“How did you know it’s the VIP room we need?” the officer said.

“Just a hunch,” Zack said.

“No, this way please,” Zack said as the police officers started to go into the club itself. He led them through the staff entrance and to the men’s room where everything had been put back to rights. The room smelled fresh, clean with a hint of bleach, the water had been wiped away and the hand towels had been re-stacked. The dirty one the woman had used, wiping her face and therefore, her make-up, had been taken away and no doubt, put into the laundry basket.

One of the officers went straight to the end stall and Zack raised an eyebrow at the lead officer.

The officer had the courtesy to drop his gaze.

“Sometimes, anonymous tips aren’t exactly useful,” Zack said.

“You got something to say?” the officer that had checked the end stall said as he emerged into the men’s room again.

“Now why would I have anything to say?” Zack said. “You guys are just doing your job.”

The lead officer held back as the rest of his team went back down the stairs.