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here. I wanna put money in that strap of yours!" A slurred voice carried from a couple of lusty women down.
    With a wink and a smile of promise, he released my wrist and sauntered back across the stage, gathering bills as he went.
    I turned my back, still flushing, and tromped back to the tiny table that miraculously remained vacant. Plopping down, I felt my temper rise. Meat meant to embarrass me, probably a direct payback for my de-thonging him in the past. Next time I found my hand in his drawers, I would squeeze that prominent area and find out once and for all if the contents were really Meat's meat or just a sticky sock tucked strategically underneath.
    Meat's set had been over for approximately fifteen minutes when I caught sight of him coming through the side door leading offstage. He wore the same blue jeans with the hole in the right knee from earlier. Must be a leftover from his monk days. They spent lots of time on their knees so it would probably wear that area out in their clothing frequently.
    He slowly ambled over, took the remaining chair, spun it around, and sat facing me.
    I sipped my water and watched the action on stage, ignoring him.
    "Cat got your tongue?" he inquired, his mouth hinting at a teasing grin.
    I shrugged, unsure why he irritated me so much. Sure, I felt embarrassed by that onstage performance and my part in it, but normally I was fairly easygoing, I wouldn't typically be miffed at someone for such a token episode in the scheme of life.
    "I heard this vicious rumor backstage just now," he tossed out.
    That got my attention. I quietly took the bait. "And, what was that?"
    He reached out to grab a beer off the tray of one of the waiters before answering. "Seems I'm a lousy date." He popped the cap and took a swallow, his eyes staring into mine. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
    I blinked up at him. "Who, me?" Yeah, the squeak sealed my innocent plea. So, I might have mentioned that idea in passing to the clan at the table behind me. Who knew it would spread to the whole club by now?
    He just shook his head and scanned the room.
    "Do you have a real name?" I asked when the silence grew uncomfortable.
    His attention flicked back to me. "Yes." He took another drink before his gaze returned to the action on stage.
    I tapped my fingers on the table, yet no more words came from him. Jeez. It was like interviewing Frankenstein, the monster, not the doctor. Grunt once for yes, twice for no.
    "Nut."
    "Baby, I have nuts. I'm not one, though," he returned in a low, sensual voice.
    My face immediately flamed. Talk about blunt.
    The devil horns popped out. "Tasty when cracked?" I managed with only a tiny wry smile.
    He tipped his head back and laughed. As the chuckles faded, he leaned forward, arms crossed over the back of the chair, beer bottle in hand. The low voice sent shivers down my spine even as his eyes twinkled with wickedness. "You aiming to find out?"
    Oh, boy.

CHAPTER 4
     
    I woke slowly, becoming aware of a couple of small items right off the bat. First of all, I needed to find a mattress sale. My current one felt hard as granite and didn't smell lavender-ish like my sheets normally did. Secondly, my head swam and my stomach verged on rebellion. Very odd. I couldn't recall ever waking with that sensation before. I pushed against the mattress. No such luck. The hardness remained as unforgiving as before.
    Last night's activities returned in a flash. Club. Dancers. Bottled water. Puzzle pieces fell into place. They spiked my bottled water? Who?
    The boys ! Panic washed over me like a tsunami, immediately receding when I recalled that my adoptive father had offered to watch the boys for a few days since I needed to spend a few evenings at the exotic dance club gathering data, which gave me time to complete my research project and enjoy a small token of freedom without numerous interruptions. With my primary concern addressed, I returned to the gigantic issue at