Moments of Malevolence (The Hunters Book 1)

I FUCKING HATE MY JOB.

Despise it.

But it pays well.

And idiots are willing to pay.

Except Zuko.

He pays well, and is far from an idiot, I think.

That can’t be his real name, but I have a feeling he hasn’t got a reason to lie. His voice is so deep that whenever he does call me, I wonder why he needs my services. A voice like his should be making women drop to their knees to look up at him through their lashes with want and need.

He must be fucked-up.

Something has to be wrong with him.

I mean, apart from the fucked-up shit he always tells me.

Who says that kind of stuff so casually?

I killed a man…

What the fuck does that mean!

I have another job working at a bar dressed as a cowgirl, complete with boots, a pair of shorts that ride up my ass, and mini shirts.

That job I don’t hate quite as much. The tips are good, but the pay is way better at my telephone sex job.

It’s how I’m able to afford my condo.

We didn’t have money when I was growing up. So now that I have it, you bet your ass I’m spending it on shit I like which includes living lavishly. I have no man to pay for luxuries, so I work two jobs and have for years. And it works for me.

“Alaska.” My boss grinds his jaw when he sees me. “You knew tonight was pink.”

I glance at my black boots in my hand, black shirt, and booty shorts and smirk at him. “You know I don’t own anything pink. Why would you even suggest such a thing?” I give him an eye roll and stroll past him.

“If you didn’t have VIPs who come only to see you, you know I’d fire you, right?” he yells out after me as I walk off. I give him a wave but say nothing in return.

I’m sexy. It’s something I own. I paid a lot for my tits and workout regularly to keep my body in shape. I am proud of it. I know I can’t do these types of jobs forever. Well, not this type of waitressing, but the other I can. So I milk it, and why the fuck not? Men have milked women for their appearance since the beginning of time, and now it’s time we took back our power without the judgment that comes along with it and milk that shit ourselves.

So I sell my voice for sex over the phone.

Let men ogle my body for great tips that put a marvelous roof over my head.

What’s the fucking issue with that? Nothing.

“Alaska, gosh. Thank fuck you’re here.” Louise puts me in one of her awkward hugs. I swear she does it knowing how much I hate them.

Hugging is awkward, and nobody can tell me any different. For the most part you are getting someone else’s boobs or crotch pretty damn close to your own. You then have to contend with said person’s perfume or cologne or God forbid body odor. And I’m not even going to talk about breath. So yeah, awkward.

I shrug her off, but she isn’t offended. She never is.

“We have super-duper VIPs tonight. And I know you have your regulars who book you well in advance every weekend, but do you think you can help your best friend out?” She pouts, her bottom lip sticking out.

“Who said you are my best friend?” I ask, brow raised.

To be honest, she’s probably my only friend. Louise is loud and speaks to everyone, but she talks to me the most. Only fucking God knows why.

She waves me off. Not only does she not care about my hug brush offs, but she’s also never offended by my rude comments either.

Why? Again, I have no idea.

I guess it’s one of the reasons I like her; she doesn’t get offended by what I say, where the other girls here call me a bitch.

I am, and I don’t give two fucks about what they think.

I have no qualms with the other girls hating me or talking behind my back.

I’m here to make money, not fucking friends.

“What do you need help with?” I ask, opening my locker and putting my things inside.

When she doesn’t answer right away, I turn to look at her. “Louise, spit it out.”

“Jeff told me not to ask for help.”

“That ship sailed, didn’t it? Besides when do I ever listen to Jeff?” I smirk. “Now, tell me, what do you need help with?”

“Well, I know the men coming in tonight. They’re from where I grew up. They are…”

“What?” I ask when she trails off.

“Scary. And they terrify me.”

“You can’t have my area, Louise. You know you can’t. My regulars don’t want you.”

“I know. They want you. But I was hoping I could help you, make it easier for you to help me.” She bites her lip.

“Louise, you know how to make people warm up to you. Are you sure you can’t do this one yourself?”

She starts shaking her head, slowly at first, and then picks up the pace the more the panic rises in her eyes. “No, please don’t make me.” Her eyes are wide, and then I notice a visible shudder run down her body. Louise never shows fear. She’s always bubbly. Always.

“Okay, I’ll help. I’ll take their orders, and you deliver. That’s the best I can offer. I have my own tables I need to manage.”

She leans in and throws her arms around my neck, and yells in my ear, “I love you. So, so much,” before she pulls away. My hands stay at my sides. “You don’t know what this means to me. These men…” Her whole body shakes and she bites her lip.

“I’m sure they aren’t that bad.”

“They never come to places like this. Bars aren’t what they do.”

“Bars are what everyone does,” I remind her.

She chews her bottom lip nervously. “No, not these men. When I saw their names, I didn’t believe they could possibly come here. But if it is really them…” She sucks in a breath. “They have a reputation, and its known. These are three men you never want on your bad side.”

“Well, maybe someone is just using their names, and you might get off easy.” I smile knowing how far-fetched it sounds but trying to make her feel better anyway.

“If someone is, then they have a death wish,” she murmurs under her breath before she turns and walks away. I shake my head, having never seen Louise this worked up over anything. She is always bubbly and doesn’t let anything get to her.

Kicking off my slides, I pull on my black cowboy boots. When I glance up, Sarah’s standing there applying her pink lipstick and staring at me.

“It’s meant to be pink tonight. Do you ever fucking listen?”

I hate Sarah as much as she hates me.

Ignoring her, I throw my slides into my locker and turn my back on her before I start to wander out.

“I can’t wait for the day they fire you,” she says loud enough for me to hear.

“Sarah, have you ever seen blackness before?” I ask, and she scrunches up her nose at my question.

“Who even says shit like that? Blackness? Do you even speak English?”

“Blackness is what happens when I slam your head into this locker so hard that all you see is black. So shut your fucking mouth before I do just that.”

She whips her inky hair over her shoulder and turns before storming off.

Maybe I should have slammed her fucking head anyway.

But I have to remind myself—no violence, I’m a new person now. I don’t have to slam heads into lockers because someone has pissed me off.

No, I’m not that person anymore.

But I could be if Sarah fucking pisses me off one more time.

Louise pulls me by my arm to her area.

My guys are all taken care of for now, and luckily for her, her men were late. So it all worked out well in the end.

“They recognize me,” she whispers.

“They do?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

“Yes, I went to school with the twins. They don’t talk much.” Her grip tightens on my arm as she continues pulling me along.

“You really can’t do the rest yourself? You’ve already served them, and it is your job,” I state.

“They didn’t want to order, so I stepped away and got you. See if you can get them to order.”

Technically, they don’t have to order anything. They pay a large fee for the private tables as it is, but it’s all about up-sell, up-sell, up-sell. The more we up-sell the larger the tips.

When we get to the edge of where they are seated Louise stops and turns to me. “I’ll go and see if your men want any more drinks while you look after them.” She says “them” as if they are forbidden. When I don’t move, she pinches her lips together. “Please,” she begs.

“You owe me so big, you know that, right?” I say, pushing my lilac hair behind my ear. I should have dyed it pink. That would have made the boss happy, too bad I am not about making anyone happy but myself.

Louise leans up and kisses my cheek before she runs off, leaving me standing there. I sigh and step around the corner where I am immediately met with three sets of eyes. They’re all staring at me as I climb the stairs until I’m standing directly in front of them. I don’t know the color of their eyes, but their stares are laden with darkness, and I feel them creeping all over my body.

“Howdy, boys.” I smile as I voice the line we have to say when greeting customers. Cowboy bar, remember? And we aren’t even in Texas. Good Lord. “I know Louise has served you already.” I check and notice all the alcohol is untouched. Weird. “But I was hoping I could persuade you to partake in some of our top-shelf liquor.” When none of them respond, I open my mouth to go for a different angle when someone else walks up the stairs. This guy offers me a smile as he takes a seat.

“Bring us the Macallan,” he says.

“The thirty year old?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“We only serve that by the bottle.”

“Yes, yes.” He waves me off. He turns to the three other men. “We’re celebrating.” I start to move when another voice stops me, sending shivers all over my body.

“What’s your name?”

That voice—it’s familiar.

No, it can’t be. Surely not. Goosebumps dot my skin as my brain matches up the name with my most regular customer. I spin around to find the speaker and come face to face with a man who is so deadly gorgeous I immediately know he isn’t my Zuko. I don’t see anyone who would call to have sex over the phone; this man needs no help in that department based on his looks alone.

“My name’s Alaska. Holla if you need anything.” I give him a wink and step away.

As soon as I get to the bar to give my order, Louise is back and gluing herself to me.

“Did they ask where I went?” she whispers.

“No, they hardly spoke. Some new guy came in and ordered for them.” She checks over her shoulder and sucks in a breath.

“That’s Grayson. He’s younger, but as far as I know, he is the only friend they have,” she shrugs. “Well he’s the only one they are seen speaking to at least. He also owns the sex club downtown.” I’ve heard of that place, even considered getting a job there before I found the phone sex job. Plus, I find hugs weird, so letting someone touch me, especially for money, would be way worse. Just thinking about it gives me the shivers.

No, thank you.

“So they can afford the alcohol they just ordered?” I ask her.

She nods her head. “Absolutely. They could probably buy this place if they wanted to.” She laughs. “You wouldn’t think it, considering we come from the same beat-down, fucked-up area…” She pauses. “We made our way out of it, though I hear they still live there. Lord knows why.”

I grab the drinks and prepare to deliver them when she speaks again. “They are devils, Alaska, remember that.” I smile at her words; trouble, we all love a little bit of it.