Dance for Me

1

I roll my shoulders and crack my knuckles, the instant relief flooding my body from such small movements. What a fucking week of hell. Why did I move to Burbank again? Oh yeah, to be closer to my job. A job full of fucking clueless idiots. They constantly need chaperoned and usually I could care less, except now I'm in charge of the bastards.

Our boss stepped down two months ago. Josef was an amazing man, ran the business great. He is in his mid 60's and decided to retire to a house in Jamaica with his now sixth wife, Julie. Operations back then had always ran smooth, I did my shit and left. I didn't have to worry about Jerry stealing some of the dough or Mark consuming our product. I kept my head down and sold black market guns...I mean merchandise. I handled my shit. No one fucked me over and if they tried, well they weren't given a second chance. I refuse to look like a fool which is why I am so pissed off now. Sean arrived late and we had a deal to negotiate with a local...business. I'm trying to fucking save the Gemini Souls from crashing and running dry and when one of my men can't even show up on time and I have to call the fucker to get out of bed? No. I'm not a god damn alarm clock.

I see why now Josef retired so early. The stress is getting to me and I'm only two months in this promotion. How did the old fella handle this for 40 years? Must of had a lot of hair dye because I never saw a silver hair on his head. What would Josef had done? Probably would have shot Mark on the spot. Our inventory was straight. Always has been, I don't fuck around. So when we go to exchange some...merch, I find three items out of stock. Three! I even checked my report, they were there when my men loaded the trucks. My only issue is now I have to prove it was him. Of course noone wants to fess up.

Burbank is... interesting. A lot more busier than I am used to. In the past, I have stayed in Chico and held down my job up there, which believe it or not there is a huge profit up there. I'd take my sales to San Francisco on the regular, close to my loyal clientele. I wonder what they think of the new guy handling it up there. I'll have to remember to call Ronnie and ask later.

I've been working my ass off. I deserve a break. My knuckles are swollen and bruised but I've done worse. Mark better fucking find the missing merch...I hope this warning was a huge wakeup call to the bastard. I'm not here to play. I may be young, but I'm not naive.

I turn 24 next month and I should be proud of my accomplishments, but wow I'm fucking exhausted. I need to blow off steam, find a nice ass to fuck, sink my teeth into. I left my boyfriend in Chico to rot, never had any feelings for the man. He was useful when needed. Easy to access, followed me around like a puppy dog. Annoying little fuck. I need something new, exciting, a challenge.

"Biersack, what's so fucking funny over there."

I smirk at the man, gliding my fingers through my black locks. Perry is my right hand man. Next in line for the precious throne. He has never done anything to cause me any doubt, but that don't mean I'll trust him with my life. The only good thing about him is he is gay as well and knows where to find all the good hook ups around this god forsaken city.

"How long do you think it's going to take for the guns to reappear?" I chuckle, admiring my purple knuckles. They look nothing compared to Mark's jaw.

"You made the bloody man piss himself with that punch! I'd say by tomorrow sun up!"

"I bet once we leave he will weasel back in here. Shall I put up a camera?" I step into view of a full length mirror, dragging my tie off of my neck. I take off the black blazer and decide to stay in my gray slim fit shirt with the buttons undone to my chest, revealing some of my silver cross necklaces. I roll up the sleeves to my mid arm, brushing my black skinnies and turn around quickly. I know I look good, but hopefully I can find someone who will be worth my time. "I'm going to fucking explode if we don't hurry the hell up."

The shaggy brunette haired man laughs loudly, pulling up his bright red leather skinnies. He pairs it with brown Chelsea boots...what a lad. His white button down is loose and nearly transparent, showing off his chest. "Andy, I promise, you will find someone at Pyro's. They aren't the scuzzy type of strip joint. The men they have dancing, phew, they will make you lose your breath. And if the price is right you can take the stripper you want into a private room and lemme tell you, they are haaaaaandsy. I've already fucked a couple. I'm close with the owner though so he don't give a shit if I pay a little extra for more services."

I lick my lips, already feeling turned on by the idea. I grab the keys from the table and smirk at Perry. "Come on, let's go."