Year E3029

Ocea

"Hey, new guy, please bring, Mr. Cop, two of our finest worm shots," Boss said while clapping his hands with an evil smile.

He placed his hand on Mr. Cop's back, guiding him to the chair. "The shots are one of our signature drinks. You cannot find it anywhere else," his confident voice hummed.

A green male safforian rushed to Boss with a tray of drinks. His fishnet body suit showed everything besides his lunch box. He handed Mr. Cop a shot and then turned around for me to see it was Stopper.

He smirked at me while I rolled my eyes. "These are the best around," Stop said in excitement, handing the MOS another shot. "You will feel everything from space and back." Stop nodded his head with a stupid face. "If you hold your breath after taking it, the worm will wiggle down your throat smoother."

"Okay, boy, out." Boss waved for Stop to exit the private room.

Stop straight-smiled at me with a wink, rushing out of the room. I made a hand gesture toward Stop, trying to get him to inform the others that this was a bust, but he kept giving me his dumbass, confused expression.

Boss's eyes glanced over at me with his eyebrows scrunched together. He waved his hand above his head, telling me to get to dancing.

"Oh." I tip-toed to the rope hanging in the middle of the stage.

The music played louder while the lights shined perfectly on me. Lightning gnats buzzed around, circling me to add effect to my dance. I glanced at Becca, who was still hiding behind the curtain. She mouthed good luck to me as I breathed out, wrapping the rope around my foot.

The lever attached to the rope clicked, causing me to grip the cord tighter. Fastening my arm, I hovered off the stage above Mr. Cop. I leaned my head back, swinging my legs while I hung upside down.

Boss smirked at me with his eyes on my breasts. He crossed his arms over his chest before exiting the private room.

The dress stayed tight on my legs while I spun in circles around Mr. Cop. The smoke from his mouth swirled into my wig as he smiled an evil grin. He downed a shot, slamming the glass on the table next to him.

"Spin her faster," he said, clapping his hands. "Fast!" he yelled, keeping his eyes on me.

The lever clicked as I wished for the best. The rope picked up the pace, spinning me in circles until my vision blurred. Blues, reds, and orange sped by as I tried to keep my eyes only on him. He stood up quickly, grabbing my shoulders as blood rushed to my head.

"Beautiful," he whispered with a slur.

I grabbed the rope, pulling myself up so I was not upside down. My blood drained from my brain as I stepped onto the ground. The lights blinked silver, sparkling the private room.

Glancing up, I saw Dylan in the lighting area with Wyatt. They watched from above the private room with a dark window for viewing. I smirked at Mr. Cop, placing my hand on his chest.

"Sit," I said, pushing him into the chair.

His back slammed into the seat, screeching the legs as he slid slightly on the floor. Mr. Cop's head rocked back as he laughed toward the ceiling.

"Oh, a rough one, too." He showed his perfect teeth while fixing his expensive suit.

I placed my foot between his legs, leaning closer to him. "You have no idea," I whispered.

A green light blinked brightly on the chair beside us, showing a dress jacket. I saw the human cigar in the pockets before seeing the Men Of Suits badge freely on top of the material.

His hands grabbed my hips, brushing the dress until he reached the bare skin on my upper thighs. I stretched for his badge, but as my fingers barely touched the icy surface, he forced me to sit on his lap.

"You smell like peppermint and—" He paused, trying to think. "I can't quite put my nose on it." Mr. Cop inhaled deeply.

A shiver ran down my spine as I spun off his lap and rounded behind the chair. I touched my hands on his shoulders, squeezing before rubbing down his chest.

"Want to play a game?" I whispered into his ear.

"Only if I win," he responded, bringing another shot to his lips and swallowing fast.

"Ah, ah, no cheating," I replied, gripping the tie around his neck.

He quickly grabbed my hand, tensing up. I hummed in his ear, feeling his body relax. He let go of my hand as I wrapped the tie around his neck. My fingers pressed into his throat, prompting him to lose consciousness in the chair without time to react.

Since this adventure to the club was a bust in figuring out the clue Coachman gave us, I figured we could have a side mission. I crouched down, grabbing his MOS badge from his coat.

Racing toward the back of the private room, I waved my arms at the window, seeing shadows move around. A mirror opened before me as Dylan and Wyatt stepped out.

"What are you doing?" Dylan asked. "I could only hack into about half of this building, but as for—"

"I have something even better," I said, interrupting Dylan.

With a smirk, I held up the badge of Mr. Cop. I peeked at his name, reading Till Cop, the name of the man who had been after me.

Dylan's jaw dropped before he leaned to the side to look at Mr. Cop unconsciously.

"This is the MOS that has been after me for a while now," I said, handing the badge to Dylan. "He was at the banquet and Dr. Coachmans."

"This is the guy?" Wyatt asked. "He's top of the MOS. Not just a worker!" Wyatt's eyes widened. "You should have said something about his title."

"It slipped my mind. I didn't think that mattered."

"Slipped your mind." Wyatt pointed at the guy. "A Men Of Suits with this type of lead specifically after you is a big deal."

I put my palms up to surrender. "I know, but—"

"No, Ocea, we need to know this stuff. All the details." Wyatt big-brothered me.

"Okay," I replied, grabbing Dylan's wrist that had the badge and shaking it. "But we need to move fast now." I dropped Dylan's hand. "How fast could you make a copy of his badge?"

Dylan's eyes widened. "Well," he said, scratching his chin. "It will take me longer to get to the van than to copy it."

"Okay, get running," I said as he raced across the private room.

Wyatt glared at me, crossing his arms over his chest. "What if he recognizes you?"

"He hasn't yet," I replied. "Now, back to the lights before he wakes up." I turned Wyatt around, shoving him away.

I spun on my heels, brushing the front of my dress and pulling it down slightly. Smirking as a new song echoed, I walked to Mr. Cop and placed myself behind the chair with my hand on his tie again.

"Do you like that?" I whispered in his ear.

He coughed out, straightening in his seat. "What?" he asked in a daze.

"Do you want me to go harder?" I asked, trying to convince him my act was sexual.

"Wha—" he brushed his hand through his hair. "Um, yeah," he said, before coughing deeply. "Bring me the bill!" he yelled toward the stage before leaning away from me.

I walked around the chair to the front of him, with my hand touching his shoulder. "No," I whined in a sweet tone. "You can't go home already."

He shook his head, removing my hand from him. "Honey, it's not you," he said, placing his forehead into his palms. "I think I just smoked too much."

"Booo," I expressed, pouting my bottom lip out.

Mr. Cop glanced at the stage and turned in the chair to look up at the lighting window. "Hello," he said. "Please get Boss for me."

I pulled at the blue wig in a panic, biting my bottom lip. The door to the side of the private room swung open.

"Thank you," Mr. Cop said, letting out a breath. "I would—"

Stopper walked into the private room with a tray of shots. "Hello, Sir."

"No," Mr. Cop angrily expressed. "I don't need some blockhead." He waved his hand, grabbing his jacket. "Go get Boss."

Stopper glanced at me, scratching the back of his head. He shrugged his shoulders, stepping toward Mr. Cop, fake tripping. The liquid shots splattered onto the front of his suit as the glass jars shattered on the ground.

"I'm so sorry," Stopper said while the MOS dropped his jacket on the chair.

I rushed, brushing the front of Mr. Cop's shirt with my palms. He grabbed my wrists, tightening his grip as his orange eyes looked into mine. I glanced away, watching Stopper place the MOS badge into the jacket.

"Wait," Mr. Cop said, tilting his head at me and then glancing at Stopper. "You!" he yelled, gripping my wig and yanking it off my head.

"Run!" Stop yelled, taking off toward the stage.

I tried to follow, but the MOS kicked at my ankles, and I landed face-first in the chair. The badge shifted in the coat as I glanced at the letters spelling Men Of Suits. The distorted letters of M-O-S told me everything I needed to know.

"Got you," Mr. Cop said with a snicker.

I spun in the chair, kicking him in the dick. "Not gonna be that easy."

He held his crotch, falling to the floor as I ran off, jumping onto the stage. I raced through the curtain, dodging the makeup tables. I noticed the scared expressions on the dancers' faces and zero Stopper or Becca.

A girl raised her eyebrows toward me, pointing over her shoulder. "They went that way," she said.

"Thank you," I replied, running after them.

Slipping through a curtain, I ran across a stage, ducking under a man spinning on a rope. He smiled with a wink as I jumped through the next curtain.

The lights were red as smoke formed around my feet. I slowed to a walk, tip-toeing to the center of the stage. Two safforian girls had themselves tangled into a rope while a group of people watched from rows of chairs.

I shook my head with a chuckle, running toward the other side of the stage. Rushing through another set of curtains, I slammed into somebody.

We tumbled to the ground, rolling a few times. With a slam, I landed on top of a stiff body. I lifted my head to see big brown eyes looking back at me.

"Thomas!" I yelled excitedly. "I know what the clue means." I picked myself off of him, crawling to a stance.

"Really?" He smiled from the ground, looking at me with an upside-down expression.

I glanced around, seeing lights flashing from the direction I was running. Loud music vibrated my feet with the voices of drunken clubbers. A shadow danced over the crack of the curtain, hovering as they talked to another individual.

"Come on, Thomas." I waved my palm. "We don't have time for you to be lazing on the ground. A MOS is after us."

Thomas laughed while rolling over to a stance. I ran toward the open club with him behind me. We broke through the last curtain to see a crowd of drunken humans and safforians.

"Moon shot?" a safforian asked, with a tray of glowing drinks.

"No, thank you," I responded as Thomas nudged my shoulders.

I glanced at him as he pointed across the club. Following his tattooed arm to the tip of his finger, I saw Becca and Stopper leaving through the entrance. The main doors to the Moss, unlike the ones Becca and I had entered earlier.

"Let's get out of here." Thomas interlocked his hand with mine, pulling me through the crowd.

Zig-zagging through everyone as the lights blinked to the rhythm of the music. Thomas pushed the door open while the security beetle nodded at him, crossing its insect legs over its chest.

Thomas turned to face me with his hand still in mine. "You figured it out?" he asked as we rushed through the empty hallway. "Tell me."

A grin slowly formed on my face as excitement filled my body.

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