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Remember Me(3)

By:Olivia Black


“Yup…” He nodded. Small town Alaska didn’t offer much compared to New Orleans. “I’ve never see any boys dance on top of a bar wearing only their underwear.”

“Well, then, you’re in for a treat. Just don’t forget to come back to the front door to relieve me.”

“I won’t forget,” Michael promised, and he walked inside the club.

The main bar was roped off, leading patrons down a straight walkway across the middle of the dance floor to other parts of the club. Ducking low, Michael slid under the rope and headed toward the bar. Jayson North, one of the other new hires, was cleaning up and stocking the back of the bar with beer and hard alcohol.

“Hey, Jayson, what do you need me to do?”

“The metal cages have been put together. We just need to bolt them to the platforms set up around the dance floor to make sure it’s safe for the dancers. Sean bolted the poles to the bar.” Jayson pointed to the metal poles spread out across the top of the bar for the dancers to hold onto. “The dancers are upstairs in the apartment, getting ready for tonight. We only have a couple of hours before we reopen.”

“Okay.” Michael nodded. “I’ll bolt the cages. Where are the tools?” he asked, and Jayson handed him a tool box.

Holding the handle to the red tool box, Michael strode toward the dance floor, where the cages were sitting in a straight row. He put the tool box on the floor before wrapping his arms around one of the metal cages and maneuvering it to the closest platform. Each cage stood around six feet tall to accommodate the dancers. The metal was light weight and mostly for show.

“Do you want some help?” Jayson hollered, and Michael only chuckled.

He had the muscle to move the cages without any trouble. Lifting one at a time, he placed them onto short platforms around the dance floor before bolting them into place.

When his job was done, Michael went back to the bar and stored the tool box behind it.

“Do you need me to do anything else?”

“Nope.” Jayson shook his head. “I think we’re about ready to drop the rope.”

“Sounds good. If you need anything, let me know.” Michael left the bar and started his usual rounds.





Chapter 2




Today was Kenny Reeves’s twenty-first birthday.

He’d been waiting months for this day to finally arrive. A couple of his friends, Jim and LeeAnn, wanted to take him to dinner to celebrate, but Kenny wanted to visit the Silver Bullet. This was his chance to flash his ID and walk into the brick building situated in the warehouse district downtown. He’d invited them to join him, but both claimed to be busy or, perhaps, they just weren’t interested.

He didn’t know why they wouldn’t want to accompany him, but assumed they feared being surrounded by paranormals. Some humans were afraid of paranormals, but the fear didn’t seem reasonable to Kenny. Paranormals—shifters and vampires—weren’t a danger to humans. The species had been living and interacting with one another for as long as he could remember and he’d never had a problem.

In fact, paranormals seemed better than humans in some ways. They could use their senses to weed out bad people and because of this trait, most were incredibly honest. The paranormals he’d encountered were loyal and loving with their mates. There was no fear of cheating since all paranormals were given one mate to cherish. It was romantic as far as Kenny was concerned. Part of him secretly hoped that he’d find a paranormal mate, someone he could rely on and give his trust to without worry.

Kenny pulled on a new pair of tight jeans and paired it with a blue striped shirt that he was told brought out the color of his eyes. He checked his reflection in the mirror, running his fingers through the thick brown locks, trying to style the mop of wavy hair. Straightening his shoulders, Kenny played with the three buttons on his polo shirt, buttoning and unbuttoning until finally deciding to leave them unbuttoned to expose some skin.

Tilting his head to the side, Kenny checked himself out in the full-length mirror, and nodded his approval. He may look young, but today, he could finally prove he was old enough to drink and step foot into the Silver Bullet. He wanted to go to the club since discovering it a few years back. Kenny could still remember his first glance. Gorgeous men flooding in and out of the brick building located in the warehouse district.

When he reached the front door—at barely eighteen years old—the bouncer had sent him packing without even checking the fake ID he had tucked inside his wallet.

Kenny grabbed his driver’s license and cash from the top of his dresser, tucking them inside the front pocket of his jeans. Turning on his heel, he shut the bedroom light off before picking up his cell phone and car keys. He locked the front door leading to his studio apartment and jogged down the stairs to his car.