Big Booty Bitches

Author's Note: This story is completely fictional and did not happen. All characters and names are fictional and were made up.

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Miami, Florida

A crack was visible on the surface of a white glass lamp sitting in the hotel room. Dim lightness faded across the room during the night. Emily Ratajkowski sat alone in the bed, her cellphone within her hands as she texted back with a friend of hers. She awaited a reply, all while she sat there and noticed the crack in the lamp. It looked as if a line of super glue had been applied to prevent further destruction on it. At the same time, the crack was somewhat metaphorical that she could relate to at the moment. A rip had been made into the fabric of what she originally thought could be a long term relationship with a good man.

Emily's bond with Steven had been slowly fading away ever since January. It seemed after their vacation together, what could've been love was slipping away. She set the phone down on the night stand, trying not to think about it. Her friend across the country in L.A. had yet to respond to her text. The young lady did nothing while laying in the bed, sighing as she was reminded of her decaying romance with Steven. She had remained loyal to him since they began dating, often turning down what could've been fun times with her friends. She held suspicions believing Steven had not been so loyal to her in the past. It seemed apparent that he lived a swinger lifestyle being a club manager. She didn't want to think about it, not worth the stress. He proved to be quite difficult, as he seemed to be obsessed with keeping a low profile, even to the point he didn't want her taking public photos of them to post on social media

Last week he treated her to a lovely late night dinner at an expensive restaurant. The date was cut short for him to rush the club, worried over the safety of his nephew. Emily had noticed that the club seemed to run Steven's life. He would call off dates, meetings even just a casual night to run things back there. His business did not bother her so much, only that it got in the way of progress of their relationship. Like the crack she witnessed in the lamp, she had to wonder if cracks were in the foundation of what they had together. Or maybe they were not meant to be together all along. Emily had a friend from the modelling agency back in L.A. begging for a nice date. A man the same age as her, one that she had known for years as a close friend. Even now as she lay back in the bed, she almost could tell herself that Steven wouldn't be calling this late at night. For all she could guess, he was back at Disco Fever doing whatever it was that he refused to share with her as his business.

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Wednesday evening was just an average night for clubbing in Miami. Disco Fever always remained busy during the week, though Friday and the weekends were the true 'mad house' days as it would be described from the business perspective. Steven Diaz found himself upstairs, standing within the walls of his private office. He stood by the window, eyeing the action down on the floor while sipping on a glass of whiskey. He wore a pink shirt with three buttons undone and white pants. His grey jacket remained over the chair of his office. He had been busy in the past week trying to hunt down Carlos. Ramón had visited the club back and forth, still keeping his job in order, but Steven refused to question him about his brother. If he were to tell Ramón that he was seeking Carlos, it would be pretty obvious what the motivation would be.

Instead, he called around town checking with his contacts. Steven guessed that with Carlos not having a legitimate job, he would end up back on the street dealing and hustling again. At the least, he could possibly get lucky and land Carlos' location with another club. Steven and Tony had many contacts within Miami, all built up connections from years of club managing in town. Every night since last week, he remained at the club waiting by the phones or observing down the dance floor for any trouble. While he stood by the window, he listened to the muffled bass sound booming from the music going on downstairs. Finishing off the glass in his hand, his cellphone began to ring loudly within the inside pocket of his jacket over near his desk. Steven walked over, setting down the empty glass to snatch his phone out of the jacket and answer it. The caller I.D. revealed a number he was unfamiliar with.

"Hello?"

"Steven Diaz, is that you?"

"Yes, it is. Who am I speaking with?"

The male voice on the end came off familiar to Steven's ears. A crackling laugh was heard before a reply was uttered.

"This is Martin, you know me. Mucho tiempo viejo amigo."

Steven sighed, trying not to smile to himself. Martin had been an old friend to the Diaz family. He was previously a bouncer at a club Tony owned over a decade ago. Always a good source for information, a loyal friend to the end. Steven had not seen Martin in a few years. Last he heard, the man had taken a job as a bouncer at another club across town.

"Hey, it's been a while old friend. It's good to hear your voice again."

"Likewise! So I heard from someone else that you're looking for that cousin of yours, yeah?"

"You heard right. I'm trying to track Carlos down."

"You're talking to the right man. I've got him, he comes to a certain club every night. I'm working security out here, I've been seeing his face quite often the past couple nights."

"Where are you at?"

"Berserker. You know, the weird blue and white club out here in South Beach?"

"Yeah, I know the place. Is Carlos there now?"

"Yep! Your cousin just come in, he's got a girl with him and they look to be staying."

Steven looked at the clock, seeing the accurate time was 10:21 PM. He thought for a minute before responding.

"I should be there in an hour and a half. Good looking out Martin, thanks! I owe you one after this."

"You don't owe me a thing, amigo! I've always got your back and Tony's, you know that."

"Thanks, appreciate it. I'll see you soon."

Clicking to hang up the phone, Steven smirked to himself. Revenge was something that tasted so sweet. He grabbed his gray coat from his desk chair, quickly slipping it on after shoving his phone back into the inside pocket. He had to leave the club now and prepare for a long drive in the night. His destination was deep in Miami Beach; all the way past the golf course of South Beach around Bayshore and on Collins Ave. It was a long trip, but Steven couldn't pass this opportunity up. Finally, after over a week of trying to find information to Carlos, he had an old friend to thank along the way. He planned on passing a couple hundred dollar bills to Martin as a token of appreciation for this kind act.

The drive would take a while, but Steven didn't mind. He would be behind the wheel of his trusted Cadillac, the only vehicle he needed in life. The streets were lit up in the darkness with the street lights, remaining a quiet night outside of Downtown Miami. He decided to go north, getting on Interstate 95 and later turning to 195 to drive along the Julia Tuttle Causeway bridge. Not much traffic remained on the streets approaching midnight. Things seemed quiet once he got out of Downtown. Steven remained cool behind the wheel, sitting back as he thought about Carlos. Silently building up the rage that he would soon unleash on him in vengeance for what he did to Antonio over a week ago.

Berserker was an industrial-goth themed night club down in South Beach. It was infamous for it's usage of blue and white lights and choice of industrial music. The blue and white design and name was lifted from an obscure album by synth legend Gary Numan, a kind tribute. The club's doors opened back in 2010, starting off with live tribute bands that took the stage before developing into DJ sets. It became popular with the 'freaks' in Miami Beach. Steven had only visited the club once, it made him feel nostalgic for his youth with listening to similar music from a long time gone. That old feeling hit him again as he pulled his car into the parking lot of the big white building. Once he stopped, he got out and headed towards the front doors. He had rolled the sleeves of his jacket up in the car due to the heat, revealing his wrists. The security were all wearing white suits, keeping true with the theme of the club. Martin stood out with his big black mustache, waving to Steven before calling out to him.

"Steven Diaz, aquí!"

Martin waved his arm, motioning for Steven to approach him. The two old friends reunited. Steven offered him a hug, embracing the older man for a few seconds.

"So, Carlos is in the club?"

The man nodded his head.

"Yeah, he's got a table down on the bottom floor. If you hang to the left side, you'll find him. He comes in with this girl every night, they always sit at the same place."

"Thanks man, I owe you for this one. I want you to take this."

Steven reached for his wallet, grabbing it out of the inner pocket of his jacket. Martin shook his head, protesting the action instantly.

"Oh no, don't give me any money!"

Ignoring his words, Steven grabbed a wad of hundred dollar bills and created a fist with them. He shoved it to Martin, regardless of his negative reaction. Looking back into the man's eyes, Steven nodded and spoke.

"Take it! I can't promise you that I won't break something when I get Carlos alone in a room. If you don't want the money, give it to the manager. Tell him it's an apology from Steven Diaz for whatever damage is caused."

Right then, Martin understood the business. Steven wouldn't have made the trip tonight on his own for nothing. He accepted the money and gave him a nod.

"Alright, I understand."

"Thanks Martin, I appreciate the call tonight. I'll see you around."

Taking a sigh of relief, Steven returned his focus to the club. He stepped through the security guards, only stopping for the brief 'pat down' search. He didn't have a weapon on him. Only thing in his pockets were his cellphone and wallet. After the search, he stepped into the club, blinded by the blue neon lights blinking back and forth. Blaring synths drowned out most of the music, all with samples and percussion drums in whatever instrumental was playing from the loud speakers. Steven looked around, observing the scenery of the club before he began to walk around. The dance floor appeared to be far out of reach, meanwhile the bathrooms were off to the left near a small hallway, away from the tables. Much of the club was occupied by people in black with the usual goth-like fashion.

Steven continued his walk, all around the left side. He bumped past a few people, still moving about as his eyes searched for Carlos. The lights flickered, flashing again over the white interior of the club. A fog machine was clearly at work somewhere in the club, perhaps from the dance floor as Steven drew closer to it. Finally after searching, he witnessed Carlos' face from across the room. Just as Martin said, the man was sitting down at a table with what appeared to be a blonde haired woman. Carlos was wearing a black shirt, forcing him to blend in with most of the club's visitors. Steven approached the table as Carlos appeared to be busy talking to his date. Walking up front of it, he called out to him.

"Hey Carlos! You been looking for me!?"

The man's eyes turned and suddenly, his face lit up in fear. Carlos' jaw dropped as he looked up at Steven's stern face. He had surely caught him by surprise, obvious from the reaction presented.

"Oh shit, hey...hey Steven! It's been a while since I seen you."

"This isn't a social call, you fucking know why I'm here."

Steven pointed to the girl and motioned his hand off to the side before speaking directly to her.

"Get lost honey, I don't want you getting between this."

From that, Carlos realized that this was definitely a confrontation man to man. Before he could respond, Steven reached across the table and snatched Carlos by his shirt, speaking again. The girl got up from her seat at the table, stepping away to avoid being in the middle of the two men. Steven yelled at Carlos.

"Move your fucking useless ass, come on! Let's go somewhere more private!"

The table wobbled, as Steven dragged Carlos out from behind it. Carlos stumbled a bit before picking himself up. Steven still pulled him at his shirt to walk the man back while he screamed at him.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?"

"Shut your fucking mouth! You've been looking for me, well I found you now, you stupid fuck!"

Carlos couldn't help but be dragged by his shirt. Steven walked him away from the tables, off near where the bathrooms were near an exit. He pushed the men's bathroom door open and then slung Carlos inside. The other man stumbled a bit before falling into the wall to stop himself. Steven looked back at him, witnessing the fear over his face. Carlos yelled back at him.

"What the fuck is this about!? You can't just come in here and drag me around like that!"

"You were looking for me a few weeks ago, right?"

"Yeah! Where's my fucking yeyo at!? You stole that from me and I needed it to make some money!"

Steven shook his head. Thankfully, it appeared they were alone in the bathroom. He didn't want anyone to get in the way of what was about to come from his rage. Looking back at Carlos, he answered him.

"This ain't about the coke, that's water under the bridge at this point. Forget about it. I've been waiting to get my hands on you, after what you did to Antonio, you're going to fucking pay for that. Right now!"

"Oh yeah? So you're sticking up for your little punk ass nephew?"

"Where's your buddies at tonight, Carlos? You couldn't take him on by yourself, you had to gang up on him with your pals. You like beating the shit out of someone younger and smaller than you? Well, come on them! Face a fucking man!!"

With one look in his eye, Steven reared his right fist back and punched Carlos as hard as he could through his stomach. Carlos groaned in pain, leaning down and clutching his chest. He almost fell to his knees, but he felt Steven snatch up his hair and pull his face up. Carlos caught a glimpse of the rage over Steven's face just before his right fist smashed into his nose, instantly busting it. Blood began to rush out of both nostrils. As Carlos groaned in pain again, Steven kept his left hand gripping him by the hair and moved his right hand to grab his shoulder. He moved Carlos, standing him up before ramming his head forward into a mirror above a sink. The mirror busted with a loud bang, glass cutting over Carlos' forehead and in his hair.

"OHHH, SHIT!!"

Carlos screamed as he felt the glass breaking over his head. Small shards of glass scattered through the room with countless amounts of tiny pieces falling to the floor. Steven pulled him back before shoving him towards a closed bathroom stall. Carlos' body flew backwards before slamming into the door, causing it to fall open and then he finally collapsed on the floor next to a toilet. During the commotion, a man tried to enter the bathroom from the door. Steven quickly turned and yelled at the stranger.

"Wait a fucking minute!! Serious business here, you can wait!!"

The man stepped out, not wanting to interfere with Steven's rage. Steven made sure the bathroom door was closed before turning his attention back to Carlos. The other man lay on his back, holding his knee up while catching his breath. His face was covered in blood, his nose was busted from the punch but most of the bleeding came from having his face smashed through the glass mirror. Streams of blood trickled down his hair, over his forehead. Carlos could see the fluorescent light from the ceiling, starring at it just before the figure of Steven's body towering over him killed the light. Steven looked down at him and spoke.

"You put your hands on Antonio again, I'm going to fuck you up even worse than this. Do you understand?"

No reply was made. Carlos tried to catch his breath. Since he didn't respond, Steven leaned down and looked at his blood-soaked face. He reached his hand up, grabbing him by the hair again as he could feel the blood reaching his fingers.

"Here let me help you, let's clean your fucking face up. Maybe then you'll understand what I'm telling you."

With a hard pull, Steven sat Carlos up and turned him around. He forced him to face the toilet and then shoved his face down into the water. He put his foot on Carlos' back, holding him there before he hit the handle to flush the toilet with his head in it. A gurgling sound was heard as the water ran through the bowl and flushed it down. Once the toilet was complete in flushing, he moved his foot from his back and pulled his hair up. Carlos coughed and gagged, spitting out water as he tried to catch his breath. Steven asked him the question again without leaning down to look at his face.

"Now do you fucking understand what I'm telling you?"

No reply again. Steven just rolled his eyes, sighing.

"For fuck sake, why do you have to do everything the hard way? One more time, maybe after this you'll learn."

"Wait! No-"

Before Carlos could completely reply, Steven shoved his head back into the toilet again and slammed the handle down. Yet again, the toilet went through the flushing sound as the water was sucked down with Carlos' head down in the bowl. Once the toilet was complete in flushing, Steven yanked Carlos' head out of the bowl again. No different from the first time, he coughed and spit out water. Once he finished coughing, he blurted out his response.

"Yeah, okay! I get it, I'm sorry! Tell the kid I'm sorry!!"

Steven finally let go of his hair, allowing him to fall back clutching the front of the toilet. Carlos turned around and faced Steven. The blood had washed away from Carlos' face, revealing a hard gash over the left side of his forehead. There were still cuts within his hair, streaming down a few small blood streaks. Steven clutched his hand, realizing all the blood soaked over the palm of his hand. Luckily, none of it had dripped over his suit. Now that he was finished with Carlos, he stepped out of the stall leaving him there. He walked back over to the sinks, realizing the broken mirror above. Steven quickly turned on the faucets and washed his hands. He grabbed some paper towels to dry them off, all before he pulled the door and made a quick exit out of the bathroom.

Back in the club, the loud music rang throughout the walls. Steven sighed as he went to make an exit. A few men walked into the men's bathroom after he left. He didn't care who found Carlos or tended to him, he just knew that he had to get out of here and fast. Once Steven walked to the exit, he looked over one of the security guards standing tall in an all-white suit. Steven grabbed his wallet, counting out a few hundred dollar bills before he approached the security guard and offered him a wad of at least six hundred dollar bills.

"Hey, sorry about the broken mirror in the bathroom. If this money right here don't pay for the damages, tell your manager I can be reached at Disco Fever. Call and ask for Steven Diaz, I'll pay for it."

The security guard became confused instantly. He took the money and began to count it. A second guard took interest in Steven, but he ignored him to quickly exit the club before a scene could be made. Once outside, he ran to the parking lot to where his trusted Cadillac was awaiting him. One guard outside tried to run after him, but it was pointless after Steven started the car up and wasted no time pulling out of the parking lot. He left the club, taking in a sigh of relief after what had to be done with Carlos. The least Steven figured he could do was pay for any damages in the bathroom. If it was his own club, he would've hoped someone would've done the same for him. It was time to go home and get some much needed rest after a night of using force to accomplish things.