Chapter 87

“Buddy, you have literally no idea who I am or what I do,” you said, taking the trade-off from Gemma. “And, I’m pretty sure by my count, that was another unwanted sexual advance immediately after being told that what you were doing was sexual harassment.”

“Pffft, if I wanted to sexually harass someone, you would know it,” DeezChains smirked. “Now how about you take a drink from one of my bottles as a consolation prize, because you are getting your ass thrown out of this club.”

“Actually, you aren’t getting anything done,” Gemma said. “And I wouldn’t sit next to you if I’d been forced to walk across broken fucking glass because you give off the rapiest vibes I’ve ever seen. I hope to God you don’t have a little sister because she’s probably racking up a fortune in therapy bills.”

“Fuck you,” DeezChains said, finally dropping his smirk. “You’re just an uppity fucking bitch who doesn’t know a good thing when she sees it. If your raggedy ass apologizes, I might let you suck my dick after I fuck your little bitchboy here in the ass.”

“Oh, so you’re bisexual?” you asked. “Wow, that’s actually a lot more progressive of you than I was expecting.”

“What? No,” he said. “I’m not fucking bisexual.”

“Well, you just said you wanted to fuck my ass,” you said. “I’d call that pretty gay there, pal.”

DeezChains looked like he was losing his mind. “I’m not fucking gay! Get money, fuck bitches. That’s my whole thing.”

“Didn’t he just call me a ‘bitchboy?’” you asked Gemma loudly.

“That was- I was- Fuck off, already!” Deez Chains said. “Get the fuck out.”

The ladies in the group were starting to back away - two of them had already left VIP altogether - and now Smooth Talker grabbed your arm. You turned to him, wrenching your arm away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” you said.

“Or what? My boys can fuck you up and no one in this club will say a word. Fuck, report me for sexual harassment, DeezChains don’t give a fuck!” DeezChains shouted. “It’s your word against ours, and there’s more of us and I’ve got plenty of witnesses.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got a Livestream, you idiot cunt,” Gemma said, and gestured down onto the dance floor where Eric was standing right up against the bannister, his phone held up and recording everything.

“What the fuck!” DeezCHains yelled. “Get that fuckers phone!”

The other friend, who had watched this whole thing without opening his mouth, lurched to his feet from the chair and tried to grab the phone from Eric, but Eric jerked away in time. DeezChains and the second friend both tried to chase him, tripping over the table and trying to get over the bannister. You took the opportunity to pull Gemma with you, backing away from the table and towards the VIP stairs.

“Good enough?” you asked.

“We’ll see,” she said. “If anything else happens, we’ve got that Livestream recording as evidence.” She stopped us at the top of the stairs and flung her arms around your neck, pulling you down into a kiss.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“For ... trusting me. Knowing I would want to do that and being OK with it,” Gemma said. “Look, John, I don’t always make good decisions. I can be a hothead, especially after I broke up with my ex because he manipulated me so much.”