Tap'd Out

by Harley Stone

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized I only had one viable option: stay the course and hope an opportunity presented itself to free the girls. Determined to do exactly that, I got out of my car and went into my apartment to shower. After everything I’d done—everything I now knew—I felt so damn dirty it was like I couldn’t get clean.

  Standing under the stream of water, I allowed myself to relive last night, evaluating my performance, trying to figure out how I was going to keep up the act tonight, and refusing to admit how out of control this situation had become.

  Tap

  Present Day

  BEFORE I’D HIJACKED her life and turned her into a full-time nanny, Mama had been one hell of a makeup artist. As a kid, I used to follow her around to weddings and other important events, watching as she transformed faces until they were barely recognizable.

  I didn’t tell Mama shit about my past—my demons were mine, and mine alone—but she was observant and pieced together enough clues to know we were in hiding. She was the wisest woman I knew. I’d once made the mistake of asking her how she’d learned so much without a college education, and she launched into one of her infamous lectures about listening.

  “You wanna learn something, boy, you listen. I spent years listening to the gossips while I was painting their faces, staying so quiet they’d forget I was there. Listening’s a lost art. These days, people only listen to argue, not to hear.”

  Years later, I joined the service, and the first thing they taught me in intelligence was how to listen: to what was said as well as what wasn’t. I realized that Mama had worked in her own version of intelligence, siphoning information about clothing sales, life hacks, schools, and even stock market advice from women who had no idea they were sharing it with her. But Mama had been so hung up on teaching me the value of listening she neglected to warn me about the danger of hearing too much.

  I’d heard the deepest, darkest secrets of the world’s most dangerous psychopaths, and that shit was impossible to forget. I feared that the secrets I’d heard would someday come back to bite me in the ass, but with Mama’s help, hopefully they wouldn’t recognize me.

  “What do you need, Alex,” she asked, sitting me down at her bathroom vanity where the lighting was the best. “Anything specific?”

  “No. Do your worst.”

  She nodded and went to work. Since joining up with me, she’d watched endless hours of tutorials, learning how to turn her talent into something more useful for our new life in hiding. Now, her specialty was stage makeup, and she made me up as Hailey played with blocks on the floor.

  “What are you building there, baby girl?” I asked.

  “My mom’s howse,” she replied, adding on another block. “Do you know whewe she wives?”

  My heart dropped out of my chest, landing somewhere around my ankles. I wasn’t ready for mom questions yet. I expected to have more time to figure out how to field them. Wondering where Hailey had even heard about moms, I looked to my own.

  She frowned at me, plugging in an electric razor. “We went to the park today and some little girl kept asking Hailey about her mom. Hailey came running to me, all confused and firing off questions.”

  “What did you tell her?” I whispered.

  “What can I tell her? You haven’t told me a thing about the mother of my grandbaby, Alex. I pretended like I got a phone call and then distracted her with a trip to the ice cream shop. But sooner or later, you’re gonna have to tell us both the truth. You can’t keep her mom from her forever.”

  “I know.” I dropped my gaze back to my daughter.

  Hailey met my gaze. “Whewe is she, Daddy?”

  I didn’t want to lie to Hailey, but the truth would only put her in danger. “I’ll tell you after this weekend. When you and Mama get back from Wolf Water Park.” By then, I’d come up with something to keep her curiosity at bay. I had to.

  Hailey eyed me. “Pwomise?”

  I held up my hand. “Pinky swear.”

  Grinning, she stood and locked her digit with mine before going back to her blocks.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing, Alex,” Mama said.

  I blew out a breath. “That makes two of us.” This parenting gig was no joke, and most days I felt like I was out of my depth.

  Mama was at it for a little over an hour, but when she tapped me on the shoulder and told me to look in the mirror, I had to do a double take. My beard and mustache were gone, and she’d softened my jawline, narrowing my nose and forehead. My cheekbones and eyes both seemed smaller and less pronounced, while my eyebrows were darker and heavier, and my lips were narrower. I had no tattoos or distinguishing marks other than a scar over my left temple. She’d covered that up and added one across my right cheek.

  With my light brown skin and new features, I looked more Middle Eastern than mulatto.

  “Wow, Mama. You really outdid yourself. Hailey what do you think?” I asked, turning to show my daughter.

  Her nose scrunched up as she studied me. “You wook ugwy, Daddy.”

  Not ugly, but different. To a three-year-old who was used to my old mug, it was the same thing. “Why thank you,” I said with a chuckle.

  “It’s not polite to tell people they look ugly young lady,” Mama chided.

  Hailey dipped her head and apologized before picking up a plastic pony by the hair and swinging it as she twirled in circles making whinnying noises.

  I helped the ladies load their bags into my Camry and saw them off before donning my requested costume, throwing sweats over the top of it, and heading out in the Audi I’d used my Titus Blackoak alias to rent earlier that day. I was heading to the home of a notorious one-percenter, so I made sure nothing could lead him back to me or my family.

  As I drove toward south Seattle, I thought about the meeting I’d had with Link yesterday.

  After the officer’s meeting was over, Link led me back to his office and closed the door behind me. Like always, I scanned the space for bugs, paying close attention to his phone and desk.

  “You’re not gonna find shit,” Link assured me. “Nobody’s gonna bug my office.”

  He had the same objection every time I met with him, but Link didn’t know that someone had once bugged his office: Me. I’d needed to know what sort of man I was attaching myself to before I joined the club. And if I bugged his office, other people could as well.

  People who underestimated their enemies ended up in a pine box.

  Shrugging my president’s reassurances off, I sat on the sofa in front of his desk and made myself comfortable. “I have a job tomorrow at Buzz’s house.”

  He stared at me. “Buzz as in the crazy motherfucker from the Serpents? The VP?”

  “The one and only.”

  “A job? What the hell is it you do, Tap?”

  I smiled. Link had been asking me that damn question the entire time I’d known him. He was nothing if not persistent, but so was I. “I get into places you can’t, Prez.”

  “You’re a crazy motherfucker, too, you know that?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “Just what do you plan to do in Buzz’s house?”

  “What I was trained to do, listen.”

  “You’re gonna plant bugs in the house of the Serpents’ VP.” He chuckled. “You got some balls of steel, brother. What are you doing here, tellin’ me? You lookin’ for permission? Want me to pat you on the back and assure you you’re not out of your goddamn mind?”

  I shook my head. “No, brother, I’m keepin’ you in the loop in case shit goes sideways. If I don’t come home—”

  “You’ll bring your ass home, Tap. That’s an order.”

  “If I don’t make it, my responsibilities will show up on your doorstep.”

  He stared at me, shocked. It was the most information I’d ever given him about my life. “You’re hidin’ a wife and kid somewhere, aren’t you? You ol’ son-of-a-bitch, I should have known.”

  “Promise me you’
ll do right by me.”

  All humor vanished from his expression. “You should know me better than this. You don’t even have to ask.”

  “I do, Link. I’m doin’ this because we need eyes and ears on those assholes who took Naomi. When they find out we’re responsible for what happened to Joe, they’re gonna be gunnin’ for us. We need to know when that day comes so they don’t catch us with our pants around our ankles. I don’t trust many people, but I trust you. I know you’re a man of your word, so I need you to give it to me. Tell me you’ll take care of what’s mine.”

  Link gave me a slow nod, keeping eye contact. “Yeah, brother. I give you my word. If something happens and you don’t come home, I’ll protect your family like they’re my own. But this is bullshit. You don’t trust me. If you did, I’d already be watching out for them, but you’ve kept them secret. You don’t trust anyone, Tap. I’m just your best option.”

  He wasn’t wrong, so I didn’t deny it.

  “The club appreciates what you’re doing, what you’re risking. But after this op, you and I are gonna have a sit-down and talk this shit out. You want trust, brother? You’re gonna have to give some of that shit away. You hear me?”

  I heard Link loud and clear, but even thinking about revealing my secrets made my chest tighten and my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth. “After the op,” I agreed before leaving his office.

  Hailey wanted to know where her mom was. Link wanted to know what I was hiding. Reminding myself I needed to throw them each a bone if I made it out of Buzz’s alive, I parked in front of his house and surveyed the scene.

  Four bikes, eight cars. It looked like quite the party. Shouldering my bag of goodies, I approached the front door and knocked.

  One of the Serpents answered. His name patch said ‘prospect’ and the look he gave me said ‘dumb as rocks.’ “You the stripper?” he asked, eyeballing me.

  Fighting the urge to be a smartass and tell him I was really the pizza delivery guy, I nodded and held out my hand. “Titus Blackoak.”

  He looked at my hand and snorted, apparently his manners had taken up residence with his brains somewhere far away. I dropped my hand as he approached and frisked me before telling me to open my bag. I followed his protocol, showing the contents and answering his questions. Portable speakers, my MP3 player, an extension cord, a power strip, a couple of pens, everything in the bag could be used as a weapon, but not the type he was trained to look for. Grunting, he nodded me inside.

  Chloe, the Maid of Honor who’d booked my services, met me in the foyer. She was holding a strong-smelling solo cup, her knuckles were bleeding, and her skin was glistening like she’d just finished a workout. She looked me over and asked, “You got that sexy fireman costume under those sweats, right?”

  I gave her my best smile. “Yes ma’am.”

  “Good. Dani needs to get fucked up and let loose. Think you can help us with that?”

  The more fucked up they got, the easier it would be to pull off my real job. “That’s my specialty. Just show me where to set up my speakers and pour those drinks strong. I’ll handle the rest.”

  Sasha

  THE SECOND NIGHT I spent with Breaker was shaky at best. The moment I entered his room, he flung me against the wall, pressing himself against me. “What the fuck, bitch? You thought I wouldn’t find out?” he asked.

  Still struggling to get a read on him, I asked, “Find out what?”

  He glared at me. “Don’t play stupid with me. You know full well what the fuck I’m talking about.”

  Breaker was in his big bad wolf stage. He wanted my fear, so I fed it to him, allowing myself the slightest tremble, the faintest widening of my eyes. I let him see me as weak and scared as I answered, “I don’t. I swear.”

  “Think, Sasha, who the fuck did you tell?”

  That question was easy to answer honestly. “Nobody. I haven’t talked to anyone about you or your club or anything.”

  Keeping me pinned against the wall, he glared into my eyes for a moment longer before a grin stretched across his face. “Thought you were gonna piss yourself,” he said, releasing me.

  As I slumped down the wall and struggled to catch my breath, he slid between my legs, forcing me to look at him again. “Don’t forget who I am. It’d be a shame to waste this pussy, but I will if I have to.” He handed me a water bottle full of blue liquid. “Now, drink this so we can have some fun.”

  I wanted to object and tell him we didn’t need drugs to have a good time, but the look on his face told me not to mistake his demand for a request. I unscrewed the top and downed the bottle.

  The next week passed in an ecstasy- and molly-induced blur. I was a puppy waiting in his room for him to pay attention to me. I was arm candy for him to show off. He talked about my pussy like it was a rare treat, using me to make the other bikers jealous. I was a fuck toy who let Breaker use me however he wanted because I had no other options.

  I needed him to want me, but his attention was a terrifying thing.

  He was a cruel bastard who liked to screw with my mind as often as he fucked with my body. I learned that he’d gotten his name because breaking people was his specialty, and he took a lot of pride in the sick, perverse games he played with me.

  But I never broke.

  I hated him, hated every moment I was forced to spend by his side. I especially hated the moments he made me crave him and the way he made me feel so damn helpless because I couldn’t get to the girls. I didn’t even know if they were still in his basement. They could have been moved, or sold, or even killed, while I was busy playing lap dog and there was nothing I could do about it. I was beginning to lose hope, wondering why I ever thought I could free anyone.

  Then one morning, my phone pinged with an unexpected text.

  Breaker: Wear something sexy tonight. I have a surprise for you.

  I’d seen enough of Breaker’s ‘surprises’ that the threat of another filled my veins with ice. Still, I knew better than to tell him no.

  Me: K. Where and when should I meet you?

  Breaker: I’ll pick you up at 7:30.

  He’d never picked me up before, and I’d been foolishly hoping he didn’t know where I lived, but he bashed those hopes in with his next text.

  Breaker: You didn’t think I’d let you go without keeping tabs on you, did you?

  If he knew where I lived, what else did he know? That I hadn’t been going to work? That I’d lied about the architectural firm? Thoroughly freaked out, I peeked through my living room window, scanning the complex for any hint of him or his goons. I saw nothing, so I dropped the curtain and replied.

  Me: Of course not. See you at 7:30.

  He was probably laughing his ass off, knowing he’d spooked me, but I couldn’t worry about that. I marched into my room and found a cute little red dress to wear and spent the day between trying not to stress about what would happen tonight and fretting over going back to work on Monday.

  He knows where I live.

  Does he know I’m a cop?

  He’s keeping tabs on me.

  Will he follow me to work Monday?

  Does he know I’ve been lying about my job since day one?

  I couldn’t seem to shake the dread that something major was about to happen.

  When Breaker arrived, he let himself in. Then he wandered around my apartment, pulling out drawers, opening closets, and looking under my bed. I didn’t know what he was searching for, but I was damn glad I’d had the forethought to stash my photos from the police academy beneath the cleaning supplies in my bathroom cabinet. The asshole sure as hell didn’t check there.

  Once Breaker’s curiosity was appeased, he led me to his bike and drove us to a yellow two-story house with a white picket fence and a three-car garage. I recognized the address as Buzz’s residence from my research. Breaker’s father had bought the home with his first wife when their three children were little. Wives had come and gone since, but records showed that Buzz and his daughter, D
anielle, still resided within.

  Breaker was bringing me home.

  I didn’t even know we had that kind of relationship. Still in shock, I stepped off the back of his bike and tugged my dress down as far as it would go. If I was meeting his parents, he should have at least given me a heads up so I could wear something with another foot of fabric. “Where are we?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

  “My dad’s house. My sister’s having a bachelorette party.”

  Okay, I wasn’t meeting the parents, I was partying it up with the little sister. I’d met Danielle at the complex and she’d done nothing but sneer at me. Certain she hadn’t requested my presence, I wondered why he wanted me to crash her party. I’d learned not to question my own personal tyrant, though, so I kept my trap shut as I followed him into the house and past two prospects who were standing guard in the foyer. Since I was with Breaker, they didn’t give me a second look. A woman entered behind us, and they searched her person and her purse before letting her follow us.

  Breaker and I stepped out of the foyer and joined a small group of women in the living room. He stopped directly in front of Danielle and gave her a shit-eating grin. She eyed me suspiciously, scowling at my skimpy dress before facing off with her brother.

  “I can’t believe you brought your whore. You’re really gonna flaunt her at my party? You’re such an asshole,” she said. “All I wanted was a fucking drama-free party. Is that too much to ask for?”

  Breaker grinned. “Sorry, sis, but you were born in the wrong family. We don’t do quiet or easy. Hell, the fun doesn’t start until bitches are fighting over me.”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about, but if he thought I would fight for his ass, he was about to be disappointed.

  “This isn’t about you; it’s my party. God, I hate you so much.” Danielle turned to the friend standing closest to her. “Where’s Chloe? We’re gonna need to distract her. Maybe drug her. Anyone have any Valium? Muscle relaxers?”

  “Oh hell no,” another woman said, her voice shrill and angry.