#that one vip story event focused on all three of them SENT ME

[kirknspock]

why is this always my favorite dynamic jdksfdf

[b-afterhours]

Avenue of Sins (part four)

summary: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.

warnings: adult content, mature readers only.

authors note: please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for this series, i kinda fucked up my list but i think i got everyone that has asked by memory lol or just let me know if you’d like to be tagged in general i’d be happy to!

if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

A week had gone by and the sentiment of those three little words hadn’t been acknowledged since. Though they had full-heartedly meant it, the thought of where they stood in their relationship after saying so frightened them too much to delve into it, frankly. Instead, they buried those feelings in that very room, so that it was back to business as usual. And since then, Craig Russo had stayed away from the club like he was warned and his cousins still hadn’t come to Trigger Finger with guns blazing like they had worried. It was just too quiet which would have given someone from a different profession ease but for them, it sent them on edge. Alma knew that whatever could go wrong Bill could correct it. Reminding herself that even if he could seem careless he’d been in the game a lot longer than she had.

It was the following Monday after the Craig incident that Bill had asked Praline to stay after hours so that he could speak to her. Initially, he didn’t want to involve employees from the club in on any conflict. He’d rather they all stay in the dark while he took care of things behind the scenes so that they could stay focused on their work duties with a general peace of mind. And although he trusted Alma’s relay of information he wanted to hear it straight from the source and hopefully gather more details if there were any.

After Cooch left, he ordered Theo to stand guard outside the loft door and politely asked Praline to take a seat at his desk.

“So I heard you knew the guy we took out back? Is that right, hon’?” He lifted his brows as he leaned back on the front corner of his desk before her.

She looked nervous, fidgeting with the hem of her houndstooth two piece dress while shifting her eyes between Bill and Alma – who was sat in his desk chair. “I don’t know him, know him like that sir.”

“You don’t have to call me, sir. We’re just talking Rebecca,” he assured.  

She nodded taking a deep, shaky breath. “All I know is what I’ve told Echo. I haven’t talked to the girl in my complex in a few months. But I know she still works at Russo’s ‘cause we come home around the same time. I-I can tell cause the light shines under her door when I pass by to get to mine.”

“Hmm, but do you think he’s someone we should worry about?”

“Well… Kansas said you kicked his ass pretty good so probably not?”

Bill bowed his head with an amused expression on his face for a moment. “Alright, then thanks Rebecca,” he sighed. “Theo will walk you out.”

Praline slowly got to her feet with a helping hand from Bill. She paused at the threshold, turning her head to speak once more before departing “Sir, I’ll let you know if I see anything you need to know about. I actually really like my job here and I wouldn’t want to do anything to lose it.”

And nothing of importance had come up since then. That following weekend felt like a clean slate. Alma was in the loft alone, working on the bar staff payroll before doors opened but time had escaped her as she worked an hour into opening. She was typing away on a giant sputtering printing calculator when Bill came in with a giggling Violet at his side pulling at his tucked black button up.

“Oh shiiit,” Bill jumped seeing Alma at his desk. He quickly whispered in Violet's ear causing her to mope and whine at being sent away but happily squeaked when he slapped her ass on her way out. “Forgot you were in here workin’,” he said to Alma as he casually slipped his hands into his pants pockets and sauntered over. “Club’s open you know?”

“I noticed,” she said unfazed, typing on the number pad. “I’m almost done so… you’ll have the place to yourself in a minute,” she finally looked up at him adjusting her giant square framed glasses she held on to from adolescence. She was nearsighted but she used it as a crutch for concentration.

He smiled, “I like it when you wear your glasses. It makes you look so young.”

“Into young girls now?”

“Gross,” he snickered.

Alma rolled her eyes. “Joking. I look like a dork and you know it. Remember when dickhead Bruce knocked them off? Look,” she took them off, “the lens still has a chip in it,” she pointed out before putting them away in a drawer.

“Well that’s why I gave him a chipped tooth so,” he shrugged.

“And then you got a black eye and detention,” she smirked, shuffling pay stubs into a neat little pile. “I’m gonna head back down. How’s the scene down there?”

“Same ol’,” he got up when she did, following her out the loft. “I heard someone talking about you...” he looked at her with wagging brows.

“Let me guess Bundy?”

Bill lightly laughed, “Nah, I overhead Ben asking Kansas about you.”

“Does he want some blow?” She looked back at him as they descended down the stairs into the noisy, smoky club. She thought he’d stay behind but it seemed as if he forgot why he had gone up to the loft in the first place.

“Alma… I think he wants more than blow,” he chuckled under his breath. …

At the bar, Alma was back in work mode, pouring whiskey neat and slipping small baggies of coke into peoples palms on the sly. At this point she operated on autopilot, she didn’t need a verbal order or an inconspicuous nose tap signal. She was familiar with her regular clients and those who she didn’t know she could tell by their uncontrolled tensing jaw or by their leering blown pupil staring needing to re-up. Those who she felt iffy by she’d tell to meet her in the bathrooms where she made them take a hefty bump to prove to her that they weren’t affiliated with the DEA. Cops she never worried about, they were all in on it.

She was preparing a bucket of Coors for Ben, who had specifically asked for her service. He was alone in his usual booth wearing a charcoal silk dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, admiring Chastity spin upside down on the pole to the guitar riffs of a popular Aerosmith song. He had a pleased grin on his face while Alma approached, it made her blush which she felt silly for. It was strange when someone was genuinely into her, she treated all her prospects as transactions as they did with her but with Ben, it didn’t feel so much like that.

“Someone order a bucket?” She smiled setting it down on his table.

“Sure did,” he said reaching for a bottle to drink.

“You gonna drink these all on your own?”

“I was hoping you could help?”

Alma bit her lip shifting her eyes towards the busy bar where she was only met with the watchful eyes of Rashad and Paul who had been ordered by Bill to do so after the events of last week.

“C’mon,” Ben said gaining her attention. “A little break won’t hurt?”

“Fine, but only for a beer alright?”

“Good enough for me,” he patted the seat next to him.

Before she knew it they were finishing off the beers in the bucket she delivered. Both of them were in the throes of laughter over his stories about Wallstreet mishaps. She knew he was a charming man but to make her laugh so hard her belly hurt she was surprised by how personable he was. She could never have thought that she’d find common ground with a man of his caliber.

“Looks like we’re out,” Ben said placing his empty glass bottle topside down into the melting pool of ice.

“Oh! I’ll bring you another one. I need to go back to the bar, I-I didn’t realize,” she could feel the buzz she caught once she stood up but she took a deep breath to manage.

“Wait! You think you can dip out of here?”

“I… I’m not sure,” she chewed on her lip.

“Why don’t you ask your boyfriend?” It was a polite suggestion but his assumption completely threw her off.

“My boy- my? I’m sorry, what?”

“The owner right? I mean, he’s been watching us the whole time?”

Alma took a glance behind her where Bill sat in the VIP section still staring, uncaring of how blatant it was. With a smirk on his face, he raised his glass to her taking the last sip of his bourbon.

“He’s just my boss,” Alma said to Ben. “Give me a sec’ could you?”

“By all means.”

She had to hustle towards the VIP booth in her thin high heels when she saw Portia on the fast track towards Bill as well. Alma swiftly slipped in next to him just before she could. It was stupid of Portia to even attempt to beat Alma to the booth, Bill would have dismissed her himself if she had managed to slip in before her. Yet she flashed a miffed snarled lip before spinning around in her stilettos. Besides Portia, who liked to test her limits, the rest of the girls knew that Alma always had first priority of his attention. They never bothered to vie for it for the most part.

“Well hello,” Bill chuckled.

“Could you do me a favor? This one time, please!” She nearly begged.

Bill sat up, amused. “Depends.”

“The bars closing soon, I just need you to collect the cash from the bar for me.”

“And why can’t you do that?”

“Ben asked me out...”

His amusement faded. “Asked you out?” He rolled his eyes. “Are you being serious? Alma -”

“Just this one and only time. I’ll be back to help count – what’s that like an hour and a half from now?”

Bill rubbed his forehead with his hand, letting it slide down to the lower half of his face where it settled. He contemplatively gazed into her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath to speak. She braced herself.

“Here,” he said reaching into his back pocket, “take my pager.”

Alma relieved, happily took possession of it. She was expecting him to make a bullshit excuse as to why she had to stay and work, that, or just a stern ‘no’. “I swear I won’t be long.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. “But page me the address, I’ll be checking the spare in the loft.”

“Okay,” she said scooting out of the VIP booth but she was anchored back when Bill held on to her hand. “What?” She mouthed to him.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?”

Alma blushed, “well if I did that, I don’t think I’d be able to leave.”

“Just a quick one,” he punctuated with a coy smile.

She timidly bit her lip before obliging him with a peck on the lips. Until he laced his fingers through hair deepening the kiss, his tongue grazing her bottom lip. It was a reminder. It was a silent ‘I love you’.

“Okay, okay,” Alma backed away, shaking her dizzied head. “He’s watching.”

“I know. Need some cash before you go?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You’re using you’re own money?” He raised a brow at her.

“No, silly I’m using Ben’s if I have to.”

“Good girl,” he said watching her walk away and into the arms of a dashing, grinning Ben. They stopped by the bar for her to inform the crew she’d be gone and to quickly grab her clutch from under the register.

Bill sighed, bowing his head and drawing a cigarette out from his pack. Lighting it, he took a long drag while leaning back in his seat catching the last glimpse of Alma, smiling and laughing out the club door. It hit him then that he hadn’t seen her eyes light up like that in some time. A pang of guilt tightened his chest when he couldn’t remember when that last time was. …

The joking banter between Alma and Ben had seemed to take a halt when all they listened to was a blaring cringey rock ballad on the radio as they rode along the New York streets in his Mercedes. The silence was mostly Alma’s as she was being cautious in remembering every turn as they traveled to his “luxury two bedroom” apartment as he described. She didn’t entirely trust him, he was just a man after all. Her eyes glanced over at Ben, who was reaching into the breast pocket of his silk shirt, producing three pink pressed pills debossed with an arrow pierced heart in the center.

“Wanna try some?” He asked.

“I’m good I’ve brought some blow,” she said. She wasn’t in the mood to do ecstasy, especially not with someone she wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with.

“Oh c’mon, I can half one for you?”

Alma took a pill from his offering palm and tucked it into an empty card slot in her clutch. “Why don’t you take one and I’ll think about it?”

Ben stared at the pills contemplating her suggestion before shrugging and popping one into his mouth, dry swallowing it. “Suit yourself.”

“Oh I will,” she said tapping a large mound of coke on the web between her thumb and index finger, snorting it without so much of wince.

He slowly pulled to the side of a curb outside a regular old complex. She was surprised at the short drive, Ben didn’t live so far from the club – he lived on no man's land. Just a single neutral block between the few that separated Trigger Finger’s turf from The Russo’s. She followed him up to his place, which although looked like any old place on the exterior, the interior was quite lavish. Her heels fell on white marble floors all the way to his loft. It was decked out like a general bachelor pad except that everything he decorated with was of quality and in neutral brown tones too. He even had a taxidermied antelopes head above a lava rock fireplace in his living room which he gave a quick spiel about how he acquired it during a hunting trip in the Rockies. Alma didn’t feel he was being honest about that, he didn’t seem like the hunting type. He was a slightly burly built man but he definitely did strike her as rugged.

“Would you like a drink?” Ben asked pointing at his bar cart.

“No thanks. Your place is really… nice? I feel like I should have a better word for it but-”

“Oh no worries, thank you. I’m not here a lot, I don’t like how… alone? I feel I guess?”

Alma lightly giggled. “It’s kicking in isn’t it?” How vulnerable he was being would have been flattering hadn’t she known he’d taken ecstasy on the ride over.

Ben chuckled. “My heart’s going a mile a minute but I can also hear it in my ears like, like a hummingbirds wings – look,” he took her small hand in his, placing it on his muscled chest, “see.”

Under her palm, she could feel the thumping of his fast beating heart but seemed pretty normal for someone under the influence. “Seems to me you’re alive and feeling pretty good to me,” she smiled at him and before she knew it their lips crashed together.

He was rough almost too rough than she liked but she took it. Allowing her to experience a different man and understand his needs. He slammed her against the edge of the living room wall just before sliding her around the corner into the hallway corridor. She could feel his growing erection through the thin fabric of her dress as he involuntarily ground against her. His hands harshly groped alongside her body, his thumbs digging between her ribs. Until down, down he reached her bottom, slipping his hands under her red dress so that he could knead the plump flesh of her bottom. In one swift movement, he lifted her on to his hips walking down the short hall and taking her to a room on the right where he threw her onto the bed. Alma finally took a breath now that she was broken away from his lips. She took it upon herself to lift her dress over her head showing him that she was wearing only a skimpy lace bra underneath. From his throat erupted a low growl, seeing the girl he most coveted from the club now in his bed, legs spread and pussy wet waiting for him to enter.

“I bet you’ve only dreamed of this,” she said trailing her hand from her breast down to her core, running her fingers through her own slickness.

“Dreamed? I’ve fucking jerked off to this sight,” Ben said rubbing his erection through his trousers with one hand and the other unbuttoning his shirt.

Alma had to resist the urge to roll her eyes from his statement. Surely, there could have been a more eloquent way of saying that. Perhaps even sexier? Instead, she decided to match his energy. “Well, what are you waiting for?” 

“Hold on,” he said striding to the side of the bed producing a condom and an untied tie from the nightstand. Alma grew worried then, she wasn’t into bondage, at least not with any old somebody. She eased when she watched him put it around his own neck and then crawled like a preying lion from the end of the bed, between her legs and up her body, connecting their lips once more. They adjusted so that she was on top helping him with pulling down his trousers as he took his shirt off revealing his hirsute chest. She straddled him, rolling the condom on his average length before inching down slowly onto him, enveloping him as they both hissed at the feeling. He took her hips in his hands coaxing her into a fast rhythm.

“Pull the tie,” he grunted.

“Huh?”

“Pull!”

Balancing one hand on his chest she pulled the smaller end of the silk tie like he ordered, tightening the loop around his neck. It wasn’t too weird but she was usually the one asking Bill, and only him, to choke her. She continued at the pace that he urged her on and she worried that he might bust if she carried on yet she didn’t care as long as she got off first. She was reaching her peak, the bed frame rocking against the wall in a rhythmic thud. Her eyes her shut tight, images of Bill flooding her mind helping her get there.

“Pinch my nipples,” Ben choked out, pulling her out of it. Instead, she pulled the tie harder. His face turning a bright shade of violet. “Pinch,” he still managed to choke out to her dismay.

“Shut up! I fucking heard you,” she said squeezing her eyes shut, trying to extract the images of Bill once again from her mind. She was close and the memory of Bill hovering above her, thrusting relentlessly came to mind as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. She could hear Ben’s voice again but she ignored it – her orgasm overcoming her when she remembered that sweet soft ‘I love you’ Bill has murmured in her ear. “Shut up! Oh, fuck!” She cried as she bounced on Ben’s dick. “FUCK!” Her eyes snapped open, disappointed that Bill wasn’t beneath her at that moment, her hips stalled yet her thighs shook.

Ben was pinching his own left nipple while the other had hold of her hand that was consistently tightening the tie around his neck, “Get off,” he choked, shoving her lightly.

Alma slid off of him ashamed thinking she did something wrong until he asked her to pinch his free nipple for him.

“Really?”

“Fucking do it,” he said lurching up, taking a tight grip of her throat. It was scary, surely he could snap her neck if he wanted to. So she promptly reached for his nipple pinching and twisting sharply. He let go of his own nipple then reaching down to unsheathe himself to jerk his bare length. Alma was slightly disturbed by it all. She couldn’t figure if it was the ecstasy or was this how he always liked it?

“Slap me!”

“I-If you let go of my neck,” she said hoarsely.

He was way too high to even consider her at that moment all he cared about was getting off. And so she drew her free hand back and slapped him with such a force it made her own hand sting red. He released her throat falling back on the bed coming on his own hairy belly in pathetic dribbles. Alma sat there appalled, feeling dirty and cheap as he relished in his own orgasm. She rolled off the bed, grabbing her dress off the floor before he could come back down to earth. She slipped her dress on as she walked out of the room. Which she noticed was his spare bedroom, he didn’t even give her courtesy of fucking her on his own bed.

“Alma!?”

“Goodnight Ben!”

“Hold on! Wait!”

She heard his call but she scrambled to gather her pager and clutch that had fallen forgotten on the living floor and she was out the door, jogging out the complex startling the doorman she had neglected to notice before when she was still starry-eyed. She was pacing by the curbside contemplating on hailing a cab but she decided to take the cold trek back feeling undeserving of even a simple luxury such as that. …

After collecting the bar money for Alma, Bill sat at his desk checking the spare pager that she didn’t even bother to beep. He was annoyed, rubbing his brow. It wasn’t like her but Alma was a grown woman capable of handling herself, he begrudgingly had to remind himself.

“Uh, Cooch?” Bill said to her as she counted money in the lounge area of the loft. “We should call it a night, yeah? I’ll get this all counted, don’t worry.”

“You sure boss?”

“Positive. You should rest up you had a gnarly set today.”

“Right! But you alright? I don’t mean to pry but I notice Alma’s not here?” She said pushing the mound of cash on the coffee table into a mesh laundry bag.

“Alma went out tonight. She was supposed to beep me and… I don’t know. I’m kinda worried?”

“Ah, I’m sure she’s on her way back.” She got up gathering her tote of nightly earnings and dirty clothes to wash. “And it’s okay to feel something once an awhile you know? You don’t have to be stonecold around me and especially not Alma. She loves you.”

He felt his chest tighten again when she said that. “You’re right,” he sighed. “Bianca,” he said just before she stepped out. “I really appreciate you, we made it this far with your help too.”

“Thanks, boss. See ya tomorrow,” she winked.

Instead of counting bills like he said he would he took the bags over to a cabinet where inside held a secret compartment door that he had to press three unmarked corners in a specific order so that it would pop open revealing a safe that was built into the wall just behind it. He pushed aside his and Alma’s various coats hanging inside and shoved the money inside joining the neatly banded and stacked cash inside. With that done, he plopped down onto his office chair checking the pager knowing there would be no new message. He contemplated on going out to look for her when suddenly she burst through the door, holding onto her frame as she shivered.

“What the fu-” his words died in his throat and his annoyance had completely faded when she looked at him with tearful eyes. “Alma? What happened?”

Shaking her head she stepped out of her shoes that had rubbed the back of her heels sore from the walk. “I’m okay,” she cleared her throat.

“What did he do to you?” He came over to her side but she distanced herself. On closer inspection, she saw the red marks lingering on her neck and developing bruises peeking out from the side of her backless dress. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“No! Bill, he didn’t hurt me on purpose. He’s a high paying customer you don’t want to lose his business or his friends business either, okay. I-I just want to forget it.”

“That’s bullshit! I don’t give a fuck about his money?!”

“Stop it, Bill. Don’t make it worse than what it was. He was high off X and he’s… he’s just a fucking weirdo, just leave it at that. Please.”

“God damn it, Alma,” he ran a hand through his hair, stressed that he couldn’t do anything at that moment.

“It won’t happen again.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Just leave it!” She all but yelled. “I have something to tell you if you’d let me?”

“Fine then-”

“Boss,” Theo said with alarm in his voice as he walked into the loft, his gun drawn to his side. “We’ve got company.”

Bill and Alma shared a knowing look and together they sighed, “aw fuck...”

PART FIVE

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