What It Means to be His

I groaned as I stood in line outside a brick building with loud music pouring out of its entrance. I pulled out my phone to check the time. It was so late.

Oh, what I would give to be at home with a book right now...

"This is so not a good idea," I said to my friend standing beside me.

"What," she exclaimed. She spun on me, and I jumped out of the way afraid she would hit me for saying something she deemed stupid. "Are you kidding me? I have been trying to get you out of your house for months! You are stuck with me now. You are not getting out of this."

Sighing, I pushed my hands deeper into my pants pockets. This is a nightmare.

My friend, Melissa, has been trying to get me to go clubbing with her for a while now. It is not really my scene, but she swears it would be better with me there. I am only here because I worry. It is better that we are in pairs than alone. There has been a streak of kidnappings lately. I agreed because it is less likely they will take two at once.

At least, that is what I am hoping.

With that in mind, she made it a thing to doll me up, if you would. The makeup and hair, she was able to do as she pleased with. The outfit she could not do much with. Not because I put my foot down or anything. Oh no! There is no fighting Mel when she is overly determined. It was more like; I did not have much clothing she classified as clubbing material.

Whereas tonight she was wearing a tight black leather dress with some nice pumps to match, I was wearing an old shirt from a Halloween costume a few years back. It was when I decided to dress like a sexy pirate. Of course, Mel had a say in that too. It was a burgundy off the shoulder blouse with puffy sleeves and a corset like torso that really expressed how heavily blessed I am in the bosom department. It paired well with my dark high waist flare leg jeans and sneakers. I refused to wear heels.

I would kill us both.

It was the closest thing to "sexy" she could find in my wardrobe. If it were not for her, I would not have it at all.

When the line began to move forward, I tilted my head up to send a thanks to which ever God that decided to make my life a tad bit easier.

Now, please – I beg of you – cut the power of the club!

"IDs," the bouncer demanded.

Okay, so maybe I got greedy.

We both reached for our wallets and provided proof that not only were we over the age of 18 but that we were also the legal drinking age. He held my ID up and eyed my face. I smiled uncomfortably as he took in the comparison that was not there. He then looked down at my ever so prominent breasts.

I slowly looked over to Mel and she proudly waggled her brows at me and bit her lip. So, this is normal. Got it.

"Get the wrist bands," he said.

"Oh," I said digging in my wallet. "How much will that cost?"

"Don't worry about it," he said handing us our IDs.

"Seriously," I said. "I thought it was only free before 11. It is past midnight. Isn't there a –

Mel elbowed me in the ribs, and I took a huge gasp of air and the pain reverberated through my being.

"What she means is, thank you so much for your generosity!"

She glared at me and grabbed my wrist and presented it to the bouncer. He strapped the bands around our arms and allowed us into the club.

"What was that for," I grunted as we walked to the doors.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Lia? When your boobs score us the VIP drink package bands and free entry, do not ever question it! Just give a pretty smile and say thank you!"

"Sorry, I don't know the rules!"

"Well now you do! Shit, you are my lucky charm! The bands are extremely expensive. We do not have to pay for a single drink tonight. At this rate, all we will have to pay for is a ride home." She hooked her arm into mine and pulled me close. "I say we get black out drunk!"

"Or not..."

"No, don't you dare. The deal was not for you just to come out but also to participate. You are drinking tonight, and you will find someone to dry hump."

"That's disgusting," I yelled.

"You won't care if you're drunk," Mel sang out. "C'mon! Let's go loosen you up a bit!"

The music was blasting, lights were flashing, and bodies were gyrating and jumping. As she dragged me to the bar, I decided to take in my surroundings. It was cleaner and up kept than I thought it would be. They had some cocktail tables for you to stand at. There were some VIP booths for you to relax in and an upper level that was for the super elite.

"Here," Melissa said, handing me a tiny glass. "Drink this."

I held it up to my nose and gagged. It burned my sinuses just from the proximity. What would it do to my stomach?

"It smells horrible!"

"That's what you get," Mel said, giving me a disappointed look. "It is not meant for you to smell. Drink it!"

"This is peer pressure."

"And you're not fifteen."

She motioned for me to hurry up and I groaned. I began to take a sip. Impatient, Mel tilted the glass upward forcing me to gulp the entire thing in a single go. The liquid ran hot down my throat, scorching its ways down to my stomach. I coughed like hell as she took the glass from me and turned around with another.

"More," I piped in an unflattering pitch.

"Of course! We are putting the bands to effective use. Who knows when we will get this lucky again."

I eyed the glass, my face twisted in repulsion. My intestines were boiling enough as it was.

"Lia," she sighed. "You need to have some fun. All you do is work, play piano, and stay holed up in your tiny ass house. When were you last able to let loose?"

"I don't... let loose."

"Exactly," she yelled. "So, imagine all that pent up tension you have. Release it! Drink and let go of all your worries. Tonight, it is just you, me, and a bunch of alcohol. No stress, no judgement, no tomorrow."

"I am not that tense. Piano is a great outlet for me. It does wonders! When I play a song after a stressful day, my muscles relax as if I had a 90-minute session with a massage therapist."

"You're so full of shit, it's pouring from your mouth."

Okay, she was right. The piano is never that great of an outlet. I am just being chicken.

What is wrong in letting go with a friend? We will never get this opportunity again! This is a once in a lifetime chance to do something I secretly always wanted to do. The best part is I do not have to pay a dime for it. Now, all I must do is stop being so chicken-hearted.

Live a little, Lia.

I took the glass and gave a small smile to Mel. "To no tomorrow."

Her eyes widened as if she expected her peer pressure to have no affect. She jumped up and down – somehow not spilling a single drop of alcohol – and cheered.

"Hell yes! To no tomorrow, bitches!"

We both hit the shot and winced at the burn. She turned back with two more glasses each. I huffed out, already regretting my decisions.

This is going to be a huge mistake.

A man dressed in an all-black suit and tie strolled into a dimly lit room. Slowly he removed his suit jacket and eyed the other occupants. He placed his jacket on the back of the chair and sat down.

There were three other men. Two were standing on opposing walls to the left and right of the mysterious gentleman. The third sat in a chair before him, bound by every knot that could keep a man incapacitated.

Though he was in a less than imaginable position – one most would find extremely uncomfortable – the bound man seemed to be... unfazed by it.

"I'm trying to decide," began the immaculately dressed fellow, "whether I want to slit your throat with a machete and watch you bleed and die a slow and painful death... or shoot you in the head and get it over with." He tilted his head to the side. "I'm finding myself completely repulsed by the look of your face."

No one spoke. The bound man sat silently, waiting for any idea of what would come next. Surely, this man would not just talk about killing him without a reason as to why! Right?

"Seeing as I am a sensible man, I will allow you to choose. Or... you can be a good boy and give me the answers to every fucking question I have for you." He picked at a piece of lint on his slacks and dusted it away. "If you do that without fight, then maybe – and I mean maybe – I'll let you walk away with only a bullet in your leg and an ugly limp."

"What do you want to know?"

They both stared at one another, each with calm demeanors. Neither gave an ounce of emotion nor made a single move or sound.

"Multiple loads of my product have been sold, yet the money is not in my pockets. Care to explain?"

"I don't know" said the man in ropes. "I am not in charge of the sales of finance. I just collect and deliver."

He stared at him, not a crack in his face betraying him to portray his thoughts.

"You only collect the cash?"

"Correct."

"When you collect the funds, where does it go?"

"I am... not sure. It is above my pay grade. I gave it to David as instructed. Anything else beyond that is also beyond me."

Taking in the attitude of the man, he noticed he was too calm. He looked to be a man with nothing to hide. A man who spoke the truth.

"To David?"

"To David," confirmed the man tied to a chair.

Interesting.

He stood and moved the chair to the side. The man standing guard on his right retrieved it and returned to his former position.

"I only have one remaining question for you, Roscoe."

"Boss?"

"Last week, one of my men – no... actually, there were four – they were killed while doing business. Do you know who they were?"

Roscoe frowned and shifted in his restrictions. "Wasn't that Jenkins, sir?"

"Yes, it was indeed," he said turning his back to Roscoe. "It was Jenkins, Brent, Chase..." he turned back to face Roscoe and glared.

It was a shame.

Roscoe's demeanor did represent an innocent and honest man, that he could tell. But it was truly a pity. It was a pity because it meant he would be losing a man with one hell of a poker face.

If he were smarter, it would not have to end this way.

Such a fucking shame!

"Sir?"

"It was Jenkins, Brent, Chase and David. Roscoe, the very man you claimed to have delivered my money to, somehow ended up dead right at the time you were supposed to make the transfer."

Roscoe's eyes widened a fraction. His throat expanded as he made a slow but hefty swallow. There it was, the crack in the foundation that was his calm.

His work was never fun unless there was fear.

"You know, Roscoe? I commend you. I really do. Your entire act would have gone right over my head had I not been smarter than you. You were calm and collected as if you had nothing to lose. It was almost believable that maybe – just maybe – you were clueless as to the reason I brought your dumbass here. But you see... I have been blessed."

"Sir, I –

"I have been blessed with the power to spot bullshit a mile away. I could see through your lies so well they were indiscernible. What kind of fool do you take me for? How fucking idiotic do you think I am?"

"I-I can explain!"

"I don't think you can explain anything to me," he said calmly. "You no longer have the answers. Not when every single word that comes out of your mouth is and forever will be bullshit!"

He turned around and threw his head back. Releasing a sigh, he folded his arms.

"I trusted David. He was loyal. He was determined. Most importantly, he was dedicated. He is one of the few that have been by my side since day one. He both cared for and helped build the empire I have today. I would label him as one of my closest friends. How do you think he got a job so close to me?"

He faced Roscoe with great dismay.

"He told me that you were skipping out on me, but you knew that, of course. That had to of been the reason you killed him. Why else would you kill your mentor? The very man who took you in when you broke your ass out on the streets."

The gentleman reached into his pocket and pulled out a hair tie. He pulled his long silk black locks back and tied it into a messy bun.

"He is the only reason you have seen my face today. His death by your hands is the reason I decided to kill you personally. I promised his wife that I would see to it that his life is avenged. If I am anything, I am a man of my word."

One of the guards proceeded to hand him a gun, but he waved it away with a shake of his head.

"No" he said. "a bullet would be too easy of a death for this fucker. Far too swift. "He rolled up his sleeves above his elbows. "David would have wanted more from you, don't you think?"

Before Roscoe could respond, the man in black began to beat him. He continued, ruthlessly, face contorted in anger as blood splattered across it.

"That man," he began as he held Roscoe's head still before planting several punches to his jaw. "He had a wife and three daughters. A wife that will never be held by him again. Three daughters that he will never watch grow up and walk down the aisle. And... it is all due to your greed!"

Tired, he took a few steps back. His chest was heaving heavily as his stamina was brought to its limits. Wiping his wrist across his chin, he looked over his handy work. Roscoe's face was unidentifiable. His eyes swelled, his lips busted, his nose cracked to the side, and he was sure he broke the guy's jaw. It may need some wiring.

But he will never get it fixed.

You cannot operate on a dead man.

Just as he was about to torture the man some more, one of his guards placed a hand on his shoulder. He froze.

"Boss, you have asked me to remind you of your meeting before you got carried away. If you continue, you will be late."

Sighing out, he gave a curt nod. "Of course."

He held his hand out to one of the guards so they could place a pistol in his hand. When no one did, he turned to the men, annoyed.

"You said a bullet was to good for him", one of the guards said.

"Then what do you suggest I do, then", he said glancing at Roscoe from the corner of his eye.

"Axel, sir."

Raising his brows, the boss was intrigued. Why hadn't he thought of that to begin with?

"Very well. Clean this up," he said. "Axel does not like a messy operating room. Have Roscoe cleaned up as well. Tell Axel that he can do whatever he pleases. We do not need this mistake of a man for anything else."

"W-wait", Roscoe coughed out. "Please! No! I am sorry! I will do anything you want. I will work to care for the family! Anything! Please don't! Anything but Axel!"

"I have to get ready for another meeting." The man began to exit the room as Roscoe screamed behind him for mercy.

A man such as him didn't deserve to even think of the word mercy.

I... am drunk.

Mel and I were on the dance floor with drinks in our hands, her chest to my back, grinding forward, coordinated. I was having the time of my life with my best friend. I was so glad I decided to let my hair down.

"I'm going to get another drink, do you want one," she asked.

I quickly drank the remainder of my drink, now accustomed to the flares that the alcohol produced. I nodded and handed the empty glass to her. I continued dancing as she walked to the bar.

Looking around to take in my surroundings - now that my second was not around - I tried to keep an eye on everything around me. That is something hard to do when your brain is fuzzy from copious amounts of liquor. I threw my head back, sighing. My eyes closed as my hands caressed the sides of my face. I swayed my hips as my fingers trailed down my neck and went behind and pushed up my hair.

My eyes opened and met amber ones. From up above on the upper level – for those super important people – leaning against a banister with a glass of dark liquor in his hand, they stared at me. The feeling of the burning amber that glowed underneath the club's light burned tingles onto my skin.

My hands left my hair and followed the frame of my body down and up again. The eyes followed them. I wasn't sure whether his eyes were seducing me or if I was seducing him, but what I did know was that I wanted it to continue.

"I got our drinks!"

Spinning, I smiled as I came face to face with Mel.

"Someone's lighting up the dance floor with her sexy moves," she said as she handed me the drink.

I took a swig and hummed. This one tasted a lot better than the others. I could barely detect the alcohol with its bursts of fruity flavors.

"Let's take a break," I said, holding the straw to my lips.

She nodded and took my hand. She raised our joint hands up and held on tight. We both danced off the dance floor. I turned back to find the amber eyed man, but his form was retreating.

We went back to one of the booths we had reserved. Turns out our bands were part of the VIP silver package. There were four types of wrist bands here. You had VIP Gold, VIP Silver, VIP Bronze and green. VIP Gold allows you to go to the upper level where they have their own bar of top shelf liquor. VIP Silver gets you in the booths and free drinks. VIP Bronze just gave you free drinks, and the green meant you were of legal drinking age.

It was a wonder whether he gave us these bands by accident. There was no way my boobs alone got us top tier passes for free. Surely, he meant to give us just the free drinks pass but grabbed the wrong ones by mistake, right?

I brought forth this question earlier to Mel, but she just rolled her eyes and shrugged it off. Her ideals were why question such luck. Knowing she was right; I just went along with it.

"So..." Mel began. "How do you feel?"

"Like I'm gonna have a huge hangover tomorrow morning," I laughed out.

Mel joined me in laughter as I sipped my drink.

"Other than that, genius?"

"You were right," I sighed out, speech a bit slurred. "This... is amazing. I am having such an exciting time! For once, I am living in the moment, and I am loving it!"

"Glad to hear it. Now, I have a clubbing partner."

I chuckled as I took a sip of my fruity drink. I really enjoyed myself. I was glad that I decided to join Mel to keep her safe. This turned out to be a fun night.

"Good evening, ladies." We both turned to see two men standing in front of the velvet rope in front of our booth. "Looks like you're having a great time."

"We are," Mel said. "What can we do for you fine gentlemen?"

"Perhaps a dance," said one of the two. He had blonde hair and brown eyes with a charming smile that was kissed by a touch of dimples. His friend had a deep brown buzz cut with brown eyes.

"Can we have names first," Mel asked.

I smiled at the two, leaning more towards the blonde. What can I say, I like dimples! I do not think you will find many females who are not a sucker for them. Not to mention, the blonde's eyes looked to be kinder. The brunette looks like he is only here for a "good time," if you know what I mean.

"Dante and Chris," said the brunette, identifying himself as Dante. "And you?"

"Mel," I said introducing my friend first. "And Lia."

"Well then Mel," Chris began. "Care to share a dance with me?"

Aww boo. I wanted that one!

"I'd love to," Mel said. We exchanged looks. As I gave her a playful disgruntled look, she wagged her brows at me and downed her drink.

I wish it weren't this way, but I couldn't stop the pang of jealousy in my heart. Mel was pretty and she deserved the world but at times I wondered why I couldn't have the same opportunities and choices. No matter what, men always chose her over me. I get it, her waistline was a lot smaller than mine, and she just oozes confidence, but I was nice too!

I slowly glanced in Dante's direction, and he smirked at me with a wink. "What about you, beautiful? Or are you going to play shy?"

Immediately, guilt took over the envy. Here I was judging before even getting to know that guy! Now that he was talking, he seemed nice.

"What gave you the idea that I am anywhere near shy?"

How about your entire personality, Lia? Just because you had a few drinks does not mean you have become a whole new person. You are just drunk.

"Wanna prove me wrong?" He held out his hand and I gave him a look showing my battle with temptation.

Well, I do like a challenge.