Chapter 19
Kurt propped his elbows on the balcony railing and stared downward, his gaze sweeping the ground floor of Fever Pitch. He surveyed the mass of dancers boogieing on the anti-slip dance floor, the deejay slamming jams in the deejay booth, the group of people strutting their stuff on a circular, raised rotating platform next to the dance floor and a cluster of thirsty nightclub patrons loitering in front of the circular bar. His gaze brushed over the sitting areas: the silver round tables, red sofas and beyond, in the VIP areas, small glass tables and semicircle velvet sofas.
Beside Kurt, Leke stirred.
Kurt flung a glance at his brother. Leke, in a black tailored jacket, dark blue shirt and trousers, rested a thigh against the railing, his arms wrapped around his chest.
“You do
