"You coming?"
"Go on without me."
Ripper tossed the words over his shoulder, not waiting to see if Ethan left the club. He made his way through the haze of smoke, past the stage into the men's toilets. There, slouched in the corner, a sheen of sweat over his chest and black eyeliner smudged around his bright eyes, the man he had wanted to see. Curt Wild.
"You got a name, kid?"
"Ripper."
"Ripper, eh? I like that." The hot press of lips covered Ripper's mouth and fingers slid down into the waistband of his jeans. "Yeah, I like that."
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