Uncovering Desire

by Kacey Shea

  “Okay, okay. I’ll think about it.”

  “You’re not just saying that to shut me up?” Scary how well she knows me.

  “Maybe a little. But I’ll consider it. For you. And Alex?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going to hurt myself. As depressed as I’ll ever be—I promise I’ll never take that route. I’ve seen firsthand what that does to those left behind. As bad as it ever gets, I’ll never be that selfish.”

  “Okay. But, Jon?” I can tell she’s not done giving her two cents. I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me.

  “Yes, Alex?”

  “There are other ways of hurting yourself. You deserve to find peace. So think about it, ’kay?” She sparks a truth I’m not comfortable thinking about, let alone discussing.

  “I’ve gotta go. Thanks for calling. It’s good to hear your voice. Even if you are a pesky li’l thing.”

  She laughs. “Okay. Have a good night, Jon. ’Bye.” I toss the phone into the empty cup holder as I pull up to Kate’s office. She appears at the door within seconds and I practically choke on my own tongue. What the fuck is she wearing?

  Strutting her way to the truck my eyes travel from toe to head and back down again. Kate’s got black leather heeled boots that run all the way up to her knees. With fishnet stockings and a shorter than should be legal black skirt, she’s completed the outfit with a black top that laces up the front. It looks more like lingerie than a blouse and her tits look fucking fantastic spilling out the top.

  Her hair’s pulled into a high ponytail that swishes back and forth as she walks, and are those—? Yep. She’s wearing devil’s horns atop her head. How fitting since I’m sure she’s in cahoots with the man himself, knowing the thoughts racing through my mind. I readjust my jeans as my cock jumps to life.

  She opens the door and greets me with a wide smile.

  “Hey, big guy, how’s it hanging?” She hasn’t been this friendly to me since Saturday night. My body and mind go on full alert.

  “What the fuck are you wearing?” I try to keep my voice calm as I bite out the words. She wasn’t dressed like this when I dropped her off.

  “Oh, you like? I’m going to a 3UG show tonight. It’s at Hell’s Rock. In fact…” Her voice trails and she bats her lashes. “I was sort of hoping you could give me a ride.” Disappointment floods me. She’s being nice because she wants a ride. To see Trent. How fucking awesome.

  “What’s in it for me?”

  She rolls her eyes, huffs and crosses her arms under her chest. I glance over several times, drawn to her amplified cleavage. Seriously, she can’t go out like this.

  “Fine. If you want to be like that I’ll just call a cab. And just so you know, I get my car back tomorrow. I won’t need your help anymore.”

  “Yeah, I remember.” This bothers me. And the fact it bothers me pisses me off further. Tomorrow she’ll have her car back and soon she’ll be back in her apartment. Things will go back to the way they were. Three weeks ago that sounded like an answer to my prayers. Ring. Ring. The shrill sound of my phone interrupts my thoughts. Blocked number.

  “Beltran.”

  “Hey, Collier here. You have anything pressing going on tonight?” My eyes flick to Kate. She’s back to ignoring me, tapping away at her phone screen. I’m planning on tailing her father tonight. Most afternoons he’s at Eddy’s in some private room I can’t seem to get an invite to, no matter how hard I flirt with the strippers or bartenders. Honestly, it’s not a priority, the few calls I’ve had with her mom to discuss the case have left a bitter taste in my mouth.

  “Nope. Just following another middle-aged screw up, but that can wait. What do you need?”

  “I need you to get to Eddy’s, the stripper joint I had you case last time.”

  “I remember. When do you want me there?”

  “I needed you there thirty minutes ago.” I can hear the tension in his voice. Detective Collier isn’t one for conveying emotion, or much of anything other than orders for that matter.

  “I can be there in fifteen.” I maneuver my way into the middle lane for a change of direction.

  “Ramirez, one of our undercovers will meet you at the bar, he’s the guy with the pansy ass diamond earring. He needs a fictional friend to get into the back. You’ll need to pretend you’re brothers from another mother. You good with that?”

  “Yes, sir. Just sit and look pretty, let him take the lead?”

  “This is why I hired you. No need to have a tea party about all the damn details. You ever thought of joining the force?”

  “Sometimes. But then I think about how easy my life is right now.” I chuckle.

  “Yeah. All this damn paperwork. You made the better choice.” He grumbles into the phone before the line goes dead.

  “Bad news, Catwoman.”

  “Catwoman?” She shakes her ponytail, brows knit with confusion.

  “I’m pretending those are cat ears and not devil’s horns. Had a thing for her in my teenage years. In fact, if you spray paint them black I’m sure you could re-purpose that little getup for a Halloween costume. It’ll be a nice DYI project, you can even Pinterest it.”

  “First off, that you even know about Pinterest makes me question your manhood. And are we talking Halle Berry Catwoman or Michelle Pfeiffer? Never mind. That doesn’t matter. What’s the bad news?”

  “We need to make a little pit stop.”

  “Look if you don’t want to take me, it’s fine. I’ll call someone else.”

  “No. It’s not going to take that long. I just have to make a stop for Scottsdale PD. Just chill in the cab for a few minutes. Retouch your makeup or whatever it is you girls do, and I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Why can’t I come with? Why do I have to stay in the truck?” I turn the corner and Eddy’s comes into view.

  “Jeez Army, breaking for a lap dance?”

  “Look. I’ll be back soon. Keys are in the ignition, so lock the doors when I get out, okay?”

  “Whatever you say.” She says sweetly with a fake smile.

  “Stay here. Don’t leave this truck. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’m not a child—”

  “I mean it, Kate. So help me. You leave this vehicle and there’ll be consequences.”

  “Don’t want me interrupting your precious time in the champagne room?”

  I blow out a breath. Looking upward, I pray for patience. I need the patience of a saint when she’s like this. I reach for the door handle.

  “Next time you need a stripper just let me know. I have friends who can bring those services into the comfort of your own home.”

  “Damn it, Kate!”

  “Okay, okay. Learn to take a joke. I’ll wait here. But you won’t be too long? I want to see the band play.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll get you to your precious date.” Hopping from the cab, I slam the door with more force than necessary.

  I stomp through the doors of Eddy’s, pay my cover, and head straight for the bar. I can’t think about Kate right now. I need to focus on the job. I spot Ramirez at the bar. The strobe lights above glint off the large diamond stud in his ear.

  “Hey, man. Good to see you!” I clap Ramirez on the back and he flashes me a smile.

  “Good to see you, bro. It’s been a long time. Wanna beer?” He nods to the brunette working the bar when I agree. “Ready to head back?” He assesses my reaction and I give a curt nod.

  “I’m ready for anything.”

  My answer must appease because his smile widens and he nods. “Well, then, let’s go. Time to play with the big ballers.” I swear I hear the bartender amend, “saggy balls” as we hop off the stools. I don’t know what we’re in for, but I already like this guy.

  TRENT ROCK GOD: WHERE YOU at babe? We’re on in ten.

  This is ridiculous. I’ve been waiting in Jon’s truck for almost twenty minutes. No word from him and now I’m offici
ally late. Fuck that. Maybe I’ll just drive off in his truck and leave him stranded at this trashy club. No. That’s too harsh, even for me.

  That leaves me one option: I’m going in. I teeter out of the truck in my five-inch heeled boots and wobble my way through the gravel lot to the door. When I open it loud bass music greets my ears and a skinhead bouncer assesses my arrival.

  “Thank God you’re here!” He nods, smiles, and I try to place how he must know me. “You’re late. Doesn’t matter. This way.” He yells toward the bar as he walks, “Chris! Cover the door!” Shit. What do I do here? He obviously mistakes me for someone else. Or maybe Jon knows me well enough to realize I wouldn’t wait in the car all night.

  Bouncer dude notices I’m not in tow and raises his brows. “You coming?” Better follow the big guy. I pick up my pace to keep in line with giant.

  “Where’s your whip?” Huh? My whip? Uh oh, maybe this guy isn’t taking me to Jon. Crap, crap, crap. Do I go along or bail? Hell, it’s just a strip club and it’s not like I’m going to accidentally tear off all my clothes. Besides, I’m kind of curious what it is Jon’s doing here, and I’ve got an inkling he’s where meathead is leading. I’ve acted before, I can pull this off.

  “Watch yourself, mister or I’ll have to pull it out.” I flash a seductive smile and he gives me a strange look I can’t decipher. We stop at a large metal door. He scrutinizes my body, nods approval and knocks.

  “It’s Frankie. Entertainment’s here,” he calls inside. A moment later the door opens a few inches. A shorter middle-age man with black hair slicked into a man bun stands at the opening. He looks me up and down before he nods. The door opens wide enough for me to pass and Frankie turns to go. Oh shit, Kate, what have you gotten yourself into now? A deep unease settles in my gut, but I’m committed to whatever the hell it is these people think I’m here for. Maybe I’ll be able to help Jon. Discover some undercover shit.

  I pull my shoulders back, my head held high. I follow man bun into the dimly light room. It’s large. Cigar smoke fills my nostrils and wafts around what few lights are in place. I glance about, taking in the surroundings. Three poker tables are set up in the center seated with older men, probably in their fifties or sixties, playing card games. Impressive stacks of cash fill the tables.

  A short catwalk divides the room. Couches fill the other space. That’s when I notice it. The unmistakable sounds of sucking, moaning, and grunting. Pleasure.

  It’s almost too much to take in. My senses overwhelm as I continue to follow my guide closer to the couches. There are a few glass tables. A man goes to his knees, drops his head to the table and snorts a line of what I assume is cocaine.

  Two strippers stand on the cat walk, kissing, hands running over the other’s body while a few men stand by stroking themselves. Oh, god! My steps falter. I avert my eyes. So, that’s happening.

  In the corner sits a sectional sofa. The dim lighting here casts shadows on three other men, all reclining on the couch, pants open. The heads of three women move up and down while on their knees, naked but for their tiny thongs that barely cover a thing.

  “The rougher, the better.” A deep voice pulls me from my thoughts. My eyes flick to the man who led me inside this place. Drugs. Gambling. Sex. Pretty sure all of this is illegal. Deep inhale. Don’t freak out. I’m sure I can excuse my way out and leave before anyone’s the wiser.

  “Yeah, bitch, suck me.” A familiar tenor drags my attention to the couch.

  “Daddy?” I gasp in shock. His eyes meet mine. Time stands still. My father is here. What the fuck?

  “Kate?” He pushes the blonde head off and zips his pants, a look of pure rage in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  “I—Uh—I—I’m—”

  “She’s one of the hired bitches,” Bunhead says.

  “I always knew you were good for nothing. College was the biggest waste of my goddamn money. The moment you came home knocked up I knew you were nothing but a whore. Look at you now! You’re just a hired hooker. Looks like not much has changed.” He seethes.

  “You son of a—” Everything unfolds, chaos interrupting the private back room of sin. Jon appears and charges my dad, arm cocked and ready to fight. Jon’s other hand grips the collar of Dad’s shirt, effectively pulling him to his toes.

  “Who the fuck are you? Her pimp?” Jon’s fist connects with my father’s face, snapping it back with such force I fear he’s killed him with one punch. Screams fill my ears, chairs scrape, a crowd forms. My father staggers, pulls himself to his full height, his gaze unclear as his head bobbles. A stream of blood flows from a gash on his cheekbone.

  His words choke. I can’t breathe. I stare at the man I’m supposed to love. I feel nothing. His ugly, twisting scowl accusing me of things no man should ever say to his child. His eyes focus and then wander, and it hits me that he’s high as a kite.

  “Kate! Let’s go!” Jon’s demanding voice whispers against my ear. He pulls me against him. “Now!” I snap out of my haze and shake off his touch, and take long strides to follow him out the back exit. We hit the door and he’s jogging. I attempt to keep up, but trip on the gravel. Jon’s arms grab me before I fall flat on my face. He holds my hand in his, and races us back to the truck.

  “Kate, keys!” That’s right. I have the keys. I fish inside my corset top where I stored them, and click the remote. I climb inside the passenger seat and reach over to shove the key in the ignition. Jon races around the front of the truck and hops in his door. “Shit.” He curses under his breath.

  I glance out the window to where at least a dozen men file out the back exit. At least two hold guns. The engine roars to life and we peel out of the lot. Tires squeal. A fume of dirt billows behind the truck.

  My heart hammers in my chest. I’m gasping for breath as if I’ve run a marathon. Jon grips the wheel, steady and calm. The only indication of nerves is the throbbing vein in his neck and the speed at which he takes each turn.

  We’re both silent. The sounds of the vehicle accelerating and decelerating fill the cab. I stare out the window. The world goes by in a blur of color and light. I can’t seem to focus my eyesight. I don’t even know where we’re driving.

  “Uh.” He clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Hell’s Rock now.” His voice is soft but the words haul me from my stupor.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Can you please just take me home?” I will my voice to hold confidence, but it sounds weak to my own ears.

  “But what about the show?” His words hold no emotion. I can feel his gaze so I pick at the polish on my nails.

  “I’m not in the mood, okay?”

  Without a response he turns the truck home, his speed slowed to the legal limit. My mind drifts to the darkened room of drugs and sex. What the hell was my father doing there? My head throbs. Remembering his words is a punch to the stomach all over again. He thinks I’m a whore. Damn him. Damn my mother too. Memories scratch at the surface. Ones I don’t want to feel. Ones I’ve worked so hard push away.

  “Kate, are you okay?” Jon’s calculating eyes search my own. I realize the truck’s off and we’re parked. I can see the apartment door. I need my mat.

  I’m out the truck and racing to the door as fast as my heels will carry me. I open the door and traipse down the short hall to my room, unzipping my boots before I’m even there. Just the thought of shutting the world out allows me to fill my lungs with air.

  Unrolling my mat, I fall to my knees and force my mind to center on my practice. To block out the past. Dismiss the words and feelings banging at the surface of my consciousness.

  “Kate. What’s going on?” Jon’s at my doorway, but I ignore him. Will him to go away. I can’t do this with him there. My breaths come in quick and rushed and my head feels light.

  “Kate!” Jon’s on my mat. He pulls me up from the floor and to his chest.

  “I can’t—I don’t—please, just let go!”

  “Damn it, Kate!
Let me in! Just talk to me!” He shakes me again. My eyes finally find his and I’m met with anguish instead of the anger I expect.

  “Please,” he whispers, and it’s my undoing. The humility in his plea. The roughness of his voice. I’m tired. So incredibly tired of carrying this secret within and I want him to know. I want him to see me, raw and exposed, no smokescreens to hide the sadness that fills my soul. Just me. Just Kate.

  SHE’S WAVERING, BATTLING SOMETHING INSIDE. I watch and I wait. Her eyes fill with determination and I can only hope she’s deciding to trust me.

  “Okay.” It’s a whisper and had I not been watching her lips I might’ve missed her reply.

  “Okay,” she croaks as she finds her voice. She accepts my arm and I steady her as we stand.

  “Coffee? Tea?” She shakes her head.

  “No. If I don’t tell you now I’m sure I’ll lose my nerve.” I look around the space, then pull her to Evie’s bed. We sit next to each other in the dark room. Light from the hallway peeks through the open door. Shadows cross her desolate face.

  “Kate, does this have something to do with what your dad said tonight?” Anger boils in my veins and I recall how I easily could have beaten him to a pulp had I not caught the look on Kate’s face. She was more important than that piece of shit, so I grabbed her and got the hell out of there.

  “Yes. It’s the reason I don’t speak to my parents anymore. It’s the reason I’m so sad some days that I can barely breathe. It’s the reason I don’t trust anyone but myself.” She smiles sadly, but meets my gaze. A single tear rolls down her cheek.

  “You can trust me, Kate.” She nods with her chin trembling.

  “Yeah. I think I can.” She takes an audible inhale. My eyes never leave her face, but she turns her stare back through the open doorway.

  “I’m not sure how much you heard tonight, so I’ll start at the beginning. You know Evie and I went away to college in Colorado. We had a great time experiencing all the college norms, you know, keg stands and beer pong, late night study sessions and college boyfriends.” She pauses a moment to smile softly. Her face pinches then, and she picks at the polish on her nails. I don’t even know if she realizes she’s doing it. I weave my left arm inside her right and interlock our fingers.