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.Puzzled, I turn to Danny.You might say we are not frequent visitors to the less fashionable parts of town.His family and mine are based in the heart of the city, in our astronomically priced penthouses and weekend mansions.“Where are we going?” I ask.He smiles cryptically.“A private club of mine.I want you to see it, get to know me a bit better.”I’m annoyed.“Danny, we’ve dated for six months and worked together for a year.I think we know each other fairly well.”He shrugs and takes my hand.“There’s always more to share, Harper.I think this is an important moment for us, and seeing my club might help you make your decision.I want you to understand me better.”My uneasiness increases when the chauffeur pulls up to the entry of a dilapidated warehouse in what feels like the middle of nowhere.I can see some dusty mountains to the west and north, but beyond that I have no idea where we are.Low industrial buildings circle us, the streetlamps casting dingy yellow light over adobe and sheet metal.The place looks deserted, but as Danny helps me out of the car I can hear the low thrumming of a bass beat emanating from inside the building and see the glow of changing colored lights peeking through cracks in the sheet metal door.Two letters hang crooked over the doorway by means of a name sign, looking aged and cockeyed: D.C.I wonder idly what it stands for but don’t bother to ask.There are several large men in black suits poised around the door, bouncers probably, and a red carpet incongruously lines the pavement.As we approach, the largest of the men bows his head formally and moves to enter a code on the lock on the door.“Welcome back, Mr.Hollis,” says the man.“Thank you,” Danny nods.His hand is on the small of my back, pushing me through the door.We walk to another line of bouncers guarding a chain-link fence that runs the perimeter of the interior, and we wait while a chain and locks are removed from a sliding gate.It squeals open and we pass through, finding ourselves in front of another gate.Ahead I can see red and blue and green and yellow lights flashing, and a chaotic dance floor.When we enter the second gate, a tall pale man with long platinum hair greets us.He looks an awful lot like that alien butler character in Rocky Horror Picture Show.“Mr.Hollis,” he shouts over the music.“Your usual table and order?”We follow him around the dance floor, Danny’s hand never leaving my back.It’s just as well, because without him propelling me I’m not sure I’d make the walk.The people dancing are startling: a mix of well-dressed businessmen and scantily clad women.I can’t say their moves are at all tasteful.I feel like I’ve walked into a fraternity party or the Playboy mansion.The room smells strongly of alcohol and pot, and I am a little surprised to think of Danny coming here.Danny steers me up an iron flight of stairs toward a balcony that overlooks the dance floor, and we are ushered to sit at a small table.It’s then that I notice the glass cages, like oversized fish tanks suspended from the ceiling.They hang about at eye-level for the people seated in the VIP booths around the balcony, and when I glance up to see what’s inside the tanks my stomach sinks and embarrassed heat blooms over my cheeks.“Oh my god, Danny!” I hiss.“What the hell is this place? Why do you come here?”The clear glass tank hanging nearest to me, about the size of a Volkswagon beetle, contains two naked women dancing and making out.Before my stunned eyes, one lies down and spreads her legs while the other kneels over her and begins to eat her out.In a cage next to them are several women in chains, dancing.Across the way I see a cage filled with what look like cobras, writhing over each other and flicking their tongues across the glass.Danny arches an eyebrow but doesn’t answer my question, instead smiling as a waitress wearing nothing but a thong and handcuffs approaches carrying a tray.She sets the table for us with a bottle of champagne, glasses, caviar, and a small pewter box.“I want you to understand something about me,” Danny says.He is the essence of calm as he pours the champagne.“I always get what I want, no matter the obstacles or complications.I accept no defeat and brook no refusal.”A fight seems to have broken out on the dance floor, and my attention is snatched away from Danny.A woman, one of the scantily clad waitresses, seems to be resisting the advances of a patron, and it’s gotten physical.She’s screaming blisteringly and pushing him away.I lean forward to watch as a bouncer wades into the melee to separate them, but instead of pulling the man out, he instead grabs the woman by her hair.He lifts her several inches from the ground by her hair and punches her in the face.I gasp as she slumps, unconscious, and the bouncer holds her limp body up for the patron to touch.My hands fly to cover my mouth as I feel bile rising.I shoot to my feet, but realize that everyone else in the club has remained impassive, going about their dancing and eating and drinking and debauchery.Horrified, I turn back to Danny.“Jesus,” I gulp.“How can you just sit there? Did you see that? He knocked her out cold!”Danny takes a long sip of champagne.“Some obstacles are easier to remove than others.Laws, for example, those are trickier to get around—but it can be done.You and I make our bread from finding ways to help clients work the system to their advantage.If you can’t comply or find a loophole, there are other ways to bend the rules.Other obstacles are annoying but easier to overcome.Someone owning something I want to buy.Someone withholding something I need.Lack of consent.There are always ways around these obstacles, Harper, and I always find a way through.Persuasion usually works.But I am not above coercion.The end justifies the means, you might say.I am a patient man, willing to wait to get what I want.But my patience only goes so far.”Danny sets down his champagne flute and picks up the pewter box.He opens it, revealing a small cluster of blue pills, and one white one.He holds it out to me but I shake my head emphatically, unbelieving.“This isn’t you,” I say.“You aren’t talking to me right now, you’re not yourself.I think you’ve had too much to drink and you are making me very uncomfortable.Danny, let’s get out of here.Please.This place is wrong.”“Right now, it so happens that you are what I want, Harper.” Danny continues in the same even voice, almost as if I hadn’t spoken.He pops one of the blue pills onto his tongue and washes it down with a satisfied groan.Fingering the white pill, he raises it between his thumb and forefinger.“I brought you here to make you understand that nothing will stop me from having you.Our union will be perfect.You are perfect.Your family, connections, and performance are perfect for my plans.I need you, and can’t allow anything to get in my way.Not laws.Not conventions.” He grabs my wrist, his grip strong, and twists my arm backward, pinning it.He raises the pill toward my gasping mouth
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