Cut Scene from Courting Risk

What happened at Bones that night and why everyone thought Eva was dancing.

<As scene from Kim’s and Charles’ Point of view>

Unbeknownst to him, Kim Chastain had shadowed Drew Rogers for several weeks. She knew everywhere he went and why he went there. Who he spoke to and why. She knew more about him than she ever cared to know.

And he’d probably forgotten she existed.

But he wouldn’t forget long.

When he stole a painting from the restoration room at Houston’s Museum of Fine Arts she watched quietly from the shadows.

Considering how dense Drew was, she was amazed he’d been able to pull it off. But he had.

He must have had help or was extremely lucky.

Kim was about to make his good luck run out.

Following him home, no one saw her as she secreted herself between the fence and the bushes beside his house. Long hours of having to remain silent as a child had taught her the skill and discipline to remain unmoving for hours in one spot. She settled down to await nightfall. 

Drew left his house less than thirty minutes after returning home with the stolen painting.

His leaving left Kim in a quandary. Stay or stalk?

It was still too light for her to break into his house and retrieve the stolen art, so she followed him. It wasn’t hard. A motorcycle could get in and out of traffic much easier than a car or truck. As bad as Houston’s traffic could be, Kim had no problem keeping up with him. He ended up at Bones, a popular Houston night club, where he parked and went inside.

Kim cussed under her breath. Black cargo pants, sneakers, and T-shirt were good clothes to wear for breaking and entering. Not so much for clubbing. 

Even after bypassing the bouncer to get inside, she would draw attention dressed as she was. Attention was the last thing she wanted.

Plan A, following Drew wherever he went, was a no go. Kim couldn’t follow him into the nightclub the way she was dressed. Plan B demanded she acquire clothes no one was using. A last resort was Plan C, clothes someone was using.

Kim looked around at the nearby businesses.

A strip club a few blocks down might have suitable clothes. All she needed was a shirt long enough to cover her ass, a wide gaudy belt, and shoes. Attitude and sass could get her everywhere if she wore the bare minimum to fit in.

Sauntering up to the backdoor of the strip club, she lifted her chin to acknowledge the bouncer stationed at the door. “Hey, can I have a puff?” She sidled up to the bouncer and gestured at the vape in his hand.

The bouncer glanced at his hand, then at Kim. He shrugged and held out the vape, offering it to her. She took two long inhales, before handing it back. “Kevin, right?” she asked. Kim had no idea what his name was. He looked like a Kevin, so she started with that.

“Umm,” he shook his head. “Tim.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Kim looked him up and down. He was muscular, a good trait for a bouncer. Brown haired, short and stocky. She figured if needed, she could take him. But she didn’t want to need to do that.

“I’m filling in tonight. Can’t remember a name to save my life. Sorry about the mix up,” she said. This close, resisting the urge to lift his wallet was hard. But he wasn’t her target.

Priorities, she reminded herself.

Tim nodded in understanding. He seemed to be a man of few words.

“So, how’s the crowd tonight? I need some big time tips. Got bills to pay, ya’ know? Mama’s gotta eat,” Kim drawled with a grin.

Tim nodded in agreement before shrugging. “Been out here since I clocked in. Not sure about the crowd.”

“So, my phone died on me today. What time is it?” Kim looked around as if a clock would magically appear in the alley.

When Tim pulled his phone out, she leaned into him to see the time, pushing her breasts into his arm, and gasped in horrified surprise.

“Oh shit! Is that the time? Listen, is the boss here yet? Do me a solid, I’m late. If he asks, tell him I got here thirty minutes ago. You’d be doing me a huge favor.” She tugged his arm, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please? I can’t afford to lose out on this gig tonight.”

Tim nodded understanding and reached behind him to open the door. She quickly scooted inside.

In Kim’s experience, if you acted like you belonged, most people wouldn’t question you. So far tonight, that held true.

Once backstage in the club, Kim heard the dancers further in the dressing area talking and joking around. They sounded like they enjoyed each other’s company.

Kim made a mental note, if she needed a side hustle she could always come here and dance.

Looking over the offerings of clothing the strippers wore to work that night and various costumes for the stage, she found a skirt and tube top she thought would fit her. She stuffed the clothes in her backpack, along with a pair of shoes, before sticking her head out the back door and yelling for Tim. 

“Tim! Ya’ gotta come in here quick. Some drunk’s backstage. If you don’t get him outa here, Roz is gunna go nuts!” Kim figured there was always a stripper named Roz, so that was the name she chose.

As Tim ran in the door, Kim slipped into the alley. He seemed like a good guy. She’d have to remember him if she needed a friend later. She slipped away while he was inside, no one the wiser of what she’d done.

After changing clothes in an alley, Kim easily snuck inside Bones, which was a zoo.

Rather than avoid the bouncers inside the club, she danced her way into them, with them, and around them. They were a pretty good group of bouncers, they tried their best to ditch her when she flirted too much.

Even though she made it into the club, she didn’t spot Drew. Not at the bar, not at a table, and the dance floor was packed. At one point, Kim wondered if he’d left while she borrowed clothes, but a quick sneak outside and check of the parking lot verified his car was still there. 

He had to still be in Bones.

Kim felt like she’d danced with every man, and woman, in the place before she finally found Drew on the dance floor.

As many undulating bodies filled the dance floor, she could have made a killing picking pockets that night. She’d have to remember it for later if she needed some quick cash.

Dancing behind Drew it was easy to jostle his ass, palm his wallet, extract the security key for his house, and slip the wallet back into his pants. She might have grabbed the cash from his wallet too.

He wasn’t using it.

Kim noticed a tall, good looking man watching her from a table by the dance floor. His lips quirked up into a smile, he’d obviously seen her lift Drew’s wallet. She needed to be more discrete about that. It wasn’t like her to get caught.

Dark skin, bald head and goatee, muscular, late twenties to early thirties. He looked like her type.

She winked at him, blew him a kiss, and gave him a finger wave as she danced to the pulsing music and maneuvered her way through the throngs of dancers. Any other night she might have asked him to buy her a drink, or even pulled him out on the floor to dance with her. Tits and ass often got her both free food and drink.

But she had another task tonight. In another hour, she’d be in and out of Drew’s house with his prize and on her way to paying back one more man in her quest for revenge.

Kim was almost out of the press of bodies when a petite, older woman stepped in front of her. She stood purposely in Kim’s way, fists on her hips, eyes narrowed, and lips pressed firmly into a scowl.

Kim couldn’t place her face. Unusual. Kim remembered everything.

“You little slut. I never thought I’d run across you, but here you are,” scowly grunted, poking a sharp nailed finger in Kim’s chest.

The woman seemed to know Kim, whether Kim knew her or not. Kim decided silence was golden, so she stood there, ready to defend herself if the woman tried anything physical.

“You two bit tramp, how dare you?!” the woman challenged Kim.

Kim shrugged slightly and raised an eyebrow questioningly. A mental debate raged inside on whether she should engage with the woman and lead her on for a bit of fun, or just let the woman say her piece.

Being an adult sucked sometimes, because Kim really wanted to mess with her. But Kim decided getting out as unnoticed as possible was preferable to causing a scene. She was already garnering more attention than she wanted.

“You wrecked my home!” The woman pressed into Kim’s personal space, spitting as she yelled, sticking her finger into Kim’s chest with each word. “You tried to hustle your way into our home, into my bed,” she emphasized the ‘my’ in ‘my bed’. “He’ll never love a whore like you. You hussy, how dare you!”

The lady used other choice words as she yelled at Kim; slut, puta (who knew the lady spoke Spanish?), slag, scrubber, twat, and skank. Kim’s amusment grew in proportion to the woman’s yelled insults, leaving her with the difficult task of keeping a straight face. Her verbal assailant must have realized that, because the more Kim tried not to smile, the angrier and louder the woman grew.

Kim glanced up and saw another woman making their way through the club patrons, her attention laser focused on the pair. The woman was beautiful, tall, midnight dark hair, and stacked. Kim figured she must be a model when she wasn’t patronizing nightclubs.

From the concerned look etched on her face, the woman also seemed to know the one yelling at Kim. She had no qualms at pushing dancers out of the way to reach them.

Figuring she’d had as much fun out of this moment as she could, Kim reached behind her, grabbed the first pair of pants she felt, and pulled the dancer around, adroitly switching places with him. 

She bounced hips for a second with the girl beside her before dancing quickly aside and moving back through the crowd. Damned if she didn’t almost dance straight into Mister tall dark and handsome she’d seen minutes before when he was seated at the table.

“It’s not my night,” Kim grumbled. “You’re hot, Cueball,” she said, addressing Mr. TDandH, “but I’ve gotta fly.”

He looked at her in surprise before she twisted around more dancers and made it to a side exit.

The humid air outside was a stark contrast to the inside of the club. The acrid scent of asphalt which baked all day in the Texas sun, mixed with the smell of puke and piss from a nearby alley, was enough to drive anyone away.

Not for the first time Kim wondered if she’d be able to live somewhere besides Houston’s inner city. But she’d seen enough of life to know that everywhere had its own set of problems.

The trick was to settle in a spot where you knew how to maneuver around the problems and manipulate who you could. She knew the alleys of Houston and how to survive here, so she stayed.

An hour later she’d managed to change clothes, ride back to Drew’s house, and walk in his back door, sight unseen under cover of darkness. Having a key made all the difference. After twenty minutes of searching she found the painting. He hadn’t even bothered to take it out of the frame.

It took Kim only moments to pull the canvas from the wood and roll it up. She peeled another painting she figured was both stolen and valuable from its frame and rolled it up with the first. There were a few luxury trinkets she saw as she searched for the stolen art. Those made their way into her pack too. He wasn’t using them and probably didn’t even know the value or what they were.

By midnight she was walking into Slate’s apartment. He was still awake and waved at her when she came in. “Hey babe, you out tonight on the town, or working? I didn’t send you out to work, did I?” he asked.

Kim laughed, walked up, and dropped her pack on the floor. “Would it matter if I lied?”

He had to know she’d been out working for herself tonight, she wasn’t sure why he asked. “Can you move these?” She cleared a spot on the coffee table and unrolled the paintings. 

“Hmm, nice, babe. Where’d you get them?” Slate asked, eyeing the artwork critically.

Kim shrugged. “If I don’t tell you now, you won’t have to lie about it later. Let’s just say I found them.”

“Monkey,” Slate huffed in exasperation.

Shay “Slate” Seward had been Kim’s savior and mentor since he found her in a skate park when she was 15. He’d taken her in, given her a roof, and taught her the art of stealing more than cell phones, watches, and wallets. She worked for him to pull off high dollar theft using every technological trinket available. He was older than her, but good looking enough. At least he didn’t hit her.

Between him and a downtown gym, Kim always had a safe place to sleep.

“Is this more vendetta art you’ve stolen? It brings a better price if I know the provenance,” he groused. Slate gave her the side eye and went back to examining the paintings.

Kim pulled the other trinkets out of her pack and laid them on the table. She tapped the painting Drew had just stolen. “This one’s hot,” she said. “The original owners might not even know it’s missing yet. It’s already been stolen once tonight.”

Slate gave an exasperated huff and glared at her.

“What’s the thief going to do?” she asked, giving her trademark, half-shoulder shrug. “Call the cops and report that someone stole the painting he just stole?”

Slate shook his head. “Okay, listen, Monkey, I can move this, sure. And I’ll give you your normal cut. But… damn girl. You gotta cut this shit out. This is the last vendetta theft I’m moving for you. Find another way to get your revenge. Or stop trying for revenge. It doesn’t matter in the long run and no one cares but you.”

Kim grew silent for a long time, staring at the table while images from her past flashed through her mind. Images of Drew’s leering, youthful face while he raped her.

After several moments she whispered, “You know what they did to me, Slate. They gotta pay.”

“How many more, Kim? How many more are out there?” Slate’s voice held an edge of irritation mixed with exasperation. 

This was an old argument between them. She figured what she did on her own time was her own business. But she did owe Slate for helping her with her vendetta by getting her information and selling what she retrieved. Otherwise, she would have dodged his questions.

She shrugged. “Only one or two. The others have all paid.” She couldn’t help but grin. “It’s like watching rabid animals tear each other up. One of them thinks the other one crosses them and, bam,” she smacked a fist into her palm. “They go for the jugular. All I have to do is set it up. Then they take care of each other for me.”

Kim stood and grabbed her pack. “Speaking of animals. I want to see the look on this one’s face when he finds out his prize is missing.” She glanced at Slate to gauge his mood. “You umm, you want me to come back here tonight?” she asked uncertainly.

She didn’t mind scratching his itch, and he didn’t usually mind scratching hers. But she’d pushed him tonight by bringing more unplanned stolen art to sell. His complaints about her extra activities grew louder each time.

Slate looked up, shaking his head. “You’re the best I’ve got, you know that right? Don’t get caught. I’d hate to lose you.” He stood and pulled her into a bruising kiss. “Sure,” he said with a nod. “Come back if you want. I’ll be asleep. Wake me up and I’ll make it worth your time,” he said, his grin turning predatory.

Kim’s first inclination was to go back to Drew’s house and wait for him to get home, but it was early, and she didn’t want to hang around too long in a house she broke into. That was asking to get caught. Since she still had clubbing clothes, she changed and went back to Bones hoping to find Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome.

Mr. TDandH wasn’t there anymore, but Drew was. The guy was a pig. Any woman with the poor taste to dance with him had to fend off his meaty hands and sweaty advances.

More than once Kim would dance behind him, brush into him, and throw him off balance. Stepping on one’s dance partner was a sure way to make the woman dance with someone else. Kim found a perverse pleasure in ruining Drew’s night, and all she had to do was act like a drunk on the dance floor.

When Kim got thirsty and tired of dancing, she wandered over to the bar to find someone to buy her a drink. She adjusted her boobs in the top along the way, making sure she was showing more cleavage than normal. Men were suckers for big boobs, and Kim knew how to use her assets to get the results she required.

While surveying the men and women seated around the bar looking for a likely mark she felt a hard, tall, body behind her and to her left. Glancing over her shoulder, she was pleased to see Mr. TDandH.

“Cueball,” she grinned widely, “I thought I’d lost you.” She leaned back into his body. The man was built. From the hard muscles Kim leaned into, she didn’t think he had an ounce of fat on him.

***

 After dropping Nicki, Eva, Alyson, and Cassidy at Nicki’s condo, Charles was finally on his own. So Charles headed back to Bones.

He was certain the young woman he’d seen picking pockets there earlier was Eva’s long lost sister. The woman looked too much like Eva for them not to be related. But he didn’t want to say anything and get Eva’s hopes up.

Besides that, Eva had too many tequila shots at the club to handle any news of substance. He was better off hunting for Kim Chastain alone.

When Charles made it back to Bones, his first plan was to show Eva’s picture to the bouncers and ask if they’d seen a woman who looked like that.  

He didn’t get that far, as he spotted her dancing her way to the bar as soon as he entered the club.

Charles had known Eva for seven years. It was easy to spot the differences between the two sisters. While Eva moved with elegance and grace, Kim Chastain moved like a cat on the prowl. He watched Kim as she stopped and studied the people seated at the bar.

Moving slightly behind her, he pressed into her left side. He was rewarded with a grinning face and greeting. “Cueball, I thought I’d lost you,” she purred.

Charles chuckled and rubbed his bald head, then lightly grasped Kim’s elbow and pulled her towards the VIP table Eva had rented earlier that night. Signaling his waitress along the way, he held up two fingers indicating Kim and himself. The waitress nodded and turned back to the bar to get their drinks. He bent down and spoke into Kim’s ear, “I’m drinking tonic water and lime. If you’re going to be working tonight, so are you.”

Kim laughed loudly. “You’re awfully sure of yourself, handsome.”

She leaned into his touch rather than pulling away. Reaching their table, Charles seated Kim, checked his pockets to make sure he still had his phone, keys, and wallet, and sat next to her. He noticed the amused gleam in Kim’s eye. She knew what he’d just done.

They studied each other silently until the waitress arrived with their drinks.

Charles toyed with his glass before finally leaning forward and speaking in Kim’s ear,  “What’s your name?”

Though she kept her body still and facial expression the same, he noticed goosebumps race across Kim’s skin.

“Names are so yesterday.” Kim pursed her lips looking at him. “What would you want to call me, Cueball?”

“Blondie.”

Kim laughed softly, amusement crinkling the corners of her eyes. “That’s original,” she said with a wink.

He noticed her gaze sweeping the bar and dance floor before resting on him again.

Charles wasn’t sure how to broach the subject of her being Eva’s sister. Kim didn’t seem to be one to communicate easily.

“I know someone who’s been looking for you.” Charles kept his eyes on Kim’s face as he sipped his drink.

Kim shrugged one shoulder, her eyes straying to the dance floor before focusing on him. “I didn’t know I was lost.”

“You have a sister.” Charles interjected into this very one sided conversation.

A haunted look briefly flashed across her face, her eyes holding the far away stare of someone who’s seen too much horror for one lifetime.

The look quickly disappeared as Kim leaned into him, pressing her breasts into his body. “I have no one,” she whispered into his ear. She sat back slightly, kissing him soundly on the lips. Her lips were warm and soft. The kiss held an invitation and promises of more. 

He didn’t mind, but women didn’t rev his motor. Right before he broke the kiss to say he played for the other team, she sat back.

Standing suddenly, Kim said, “Later, Cueball, my mark’s leaving. Find me if you can.” She winked at him and hurried towards the exit. 

Charles stood to follow and almost pulled the table cloth, including their drinks and a candle, onto the floor. The little minx had tied the edge of the table cloth around his belt. By the time he had himself untangled, Kim was gone.

At least she’d left him his keys, wallet, and phone.

***

Damn him! She wasn’t the one who was supposed to react to men, they reacted to her. But it wasn’t his body which caused her gut to clench. It was him mentioning a sister she’d lost long ago.

She didn’t know what game he was playing, or what he was after with her. She also didn’t have time to pursue it tonight. But when tonight was over, she’d find Cueball again. 

Keeping a safe distance back from Drew Rogers, Kim hurried out of the bar.

Predictably, he headed home. She’d done her best at the club to make sure he went home alone.

Watching his car weave through the streets, she was astounded that Drew managed to drive home without running into something, or someone. She was glad she’d been behind him rather than in his path of possible destruction.

Kim parked well away from his house, pulled on her long pants and long sleeved shirt, and walked the rest of the way.

When she snuck into his house a few minutes later she found Drew seated in a chair, his back to her. In seconds, Kim was behind him, a knife at his throat. He was sober enough to know he was in trouble, and immediately stopped moving.

“You took something tonight that doesn’t belong to you,” Kim hissed into his ear. Even though she wore gloves and a ski mask, she was careful to stand behind him. She reached into his back pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

Kim’s voice was low and hollow as she listed Drew’s transgressions, her lips an inch from his ear.

She started nine years before when he and his father tied up helpless children to rape at the group foster home his father ran. As she pressed the edge of her knife into his neck, she methodically explained that his time of stealing women, stealing art, and stealing the innocence of children was over.

“Call your boss,” she pressed his phone into his hand. “Tell him the painting’s gone. Someone took it while you were in the club.”

Drew started to tremble and Kim pressed the knife further into the flesh of his neck. “I want to hear it. Put it on speaker. Go on. Do it now,” she hissed.

His hands shook so badly Drew barely managed to push the buttons to make the call. He also had to call twice, as no one picked up on the first try. That shouldn’t have been surprising, it was a quarter of three in the morning when most people were in bed.

Boyles didn’t sound happy when he answered the phone, and even less so when Drew explained that the painting he’d stolen earlier that night was missing from his home.

Kim detected the distinct odor of urine when Boyles started detailing exactly what he would do to Drew if Drew didn’t cough up the painting. Drew shook so badly, he didn’t notice Kim slip away from behind him during the conversation. She’d done everything she could to ensure that Drew would land on the receiving end of Creston Boyles’ anger.

“One down,” she muttered as she straddled her motorcycle to head back to Slate’s, “one to go.”