The Phoenix Club (written as CJ Bishop)

CH 12: "A Friendly Request"

"A B E L? Hey! Back to work already?"

"Hey, Ricky." Abel high-fived the cute, black-haired guy, and shook his head. "No. Just...hanging out."

Ricky chuckled and shot a quick look to Abel's crotch. "Don't hang out too much or you'll be back to work whether you want to be or not."

"Fuck." Abel smiled. "I'll keep that in mind." The guy laughed and squeezed his shoulder and moved out into the crowd, his slim hips adopting a nice smooth sway that got the men eyeing his tight little ass squeezed into his thin, sheer pants. Abel watched him for a moment, then smiled at his clever teasing tactics.

Max allowed the boys to do mini-dances, off stage, as they mingled through the crowd, racking up tips as the men paid for direct attention. The only stipulation was that they couldn't wear G-strings – except underneath their tight pants. They were allowed to unbutton, unzip, flash glimpses of what was under those pants – but if the customers wanted the pants to come off, they had to pay for the private lap dance.

No doubt Ricky would be in one of the private booths in no time, the way he was rocking and rolling that ass in the customers' faces.

Abel winced as he moved through the crowd and occasionally bumped into bodies, causing his back to jar. He found an empty barstool and grabbed it, sliding onto the padded seat. The bartender approached and smiled. "Abel. It's good to see you back so soon."

"Hey, Carl. I'm just here as a spectator." Abel smiled. "Can I get a club soda?"

"That's it?"

"Taking pain pills." he shrugged. "No alcohol."

"I see." Carl nodded and winked. "Be right back."

Twisting around slowly, Abel swept the crowd. Cole and Gabe should be here. Them and Max would get after him for even being here, but he could handle the scolding better than he could handle being at home alone.

The blaring music was starting to beat inside Abel's skull, causing a low throb in the center of his forehead. Usually the music didn't bother him – he liked it loud. But today it was having an adverse effect on him.

When Carl brought him the club soda, he took a drink then glanced around. "Is Cole here-"

"What in the hell are you doing here?" Gabe shoved in between Abel and the guy on the next stool over. "You were supposed to go straight home after visiting your sister."

"Sorry, dad." Abel smiled, but his eyes felt tired, the smile heavy.

"Smart ass." Gabe muttered, the corner of his lips tugging up a little. "Seriously, what're you doing here?"

Abel shrugged, then groaned when his back protested. "I didn't figure it would do any harm to just sit on a barstool for a while."

"You need actual rest, Abel." Gabe said. "Even just sitting up like this puts strain on your back." Turning his attention to his drink, Abel sipped from the short glass. His face tightened and Gabe caught it instantly. He leaned closer. "What's wrong, kid?"

Shaking his head, the glass blurred before him. Everything – Savannah, Devlin, and everything else that was wrong in his life – pushed down on his shoulders. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. "I don't...want to go home alone." he said thickly. He wiped quick at his eyes before the tears could break loose.

Gabe rubbed his hand gently up his back. "Come on, why don't you go lay down in the break room. There's a sofa in there."

Nodding, Abel took another drink of the club soda then slid off the barstool. Gabe touched his lower back lightly and guided him towards the back of the club. In the break room, the music and noise was muffled somewhat. Abel laid down on the sofa and Gabe pulled off his shoes.