by Kaylee, Katy
Then again, that was my job. I smiled brightly, trying to conceal my nervousness as Angel introduced us.
“I’ve never seen a prettier bunch of girls,” one of them drawled in a thick Texas accent. “Would any of you girls like a drink?” With a grunt, he got to his feet and walked over to a small cart that was stocked with top-shelf liquor.
“Ooh, yes please,” Livvie squealed. “A seven and seven!”
The Texan nodded at her, then turned to me. “What about you, darlin’?”
I shook my head and blushed. “No, thank you,” said.
“Maybe you’d like this, instead?” Angel asked. He pulled a baggie of coke from his pocket and dangled it under my nose. My heart clanged with alarm, but I tried to smile and play it off.
“Oh, no thanks,” I said, as casually as I could manage.
One of the other men got up and put some music on. As if on cue, Livvie and the other girls started dancing, slowly swaying and making eye contact with the Texans while unbuttoning their tops. I felt awkward, but I joined in. The song was unfamiliar but I moved and undulated as best I could, running my hands over my fully-clothed body and shaking my ass to the beat.
Angel was right – it wasn’t like being in the club. It was weirder, in a way. Livvie and the other girls were really getting into it, dancing with each other and kissing on the lips sometimes, grinding and bumping on each other. The alcohol was flowing now and I began to wonder if I shouldn’t have had something to drink, just to loosen me up. As the room grew hotter and the music grew louder, the party became rowdy.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I swallowed, trying to look like I was having a fun and sexy time dancing in front of the seated Texans. I kept telling myself how much I needed the money, how much I needed safety and security that cash brought. The floor below my feet was littered with dollar bills – even though I was there with Livvie and one other girl, I could tell that it was already going to be a lucrative night.
I just hoped I wouldn’t have to do anything else. Livvie and the other stripper were fully naked by now, crawling around on the floor and teasing each other, causing the Texans to holler with excitement. Watching them made me feel strangely voyeuristic, but not in a good way. This is so seedy, I thought, biting my lower lip and forcing myself to keep dancing. God, I wish I didn’t have to to do this! Noticing that the Texans and Angel were staring at me expectantly, I smiled as confidently as I could. A shiver of nervousness ran down my spine as I fumbled with the strings of my bikini top and began lowering it down over my breasts.
“She’s really pretty,” one of the Texans drawled. He was the biggest, clad in jeans and a button-down shirt and a cowboy hat.
“She is,” Angel said. He gave me a smirk and I blinked nervously.
“I like how she moves,” the Texan continued. “She available for a private dance?”
Angel nodded. His smirk turned into a grin. “Yeah,” he said. “But it costs extra.”
The Texan beamed. He pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket and handed it over to Angel. As I watched him, I felt sick to my stomach. I realized that I’d never actually given a lap dance before – the club had shut down that night before I could make the rounds – and I wondered how on earth I was going to do it. And watching Angel take the guy’s money in exchange for me, well, I felt subhuman.
I felt like a piece of meat.
“Follow me,” Angel said. He got to his feet and jerked his head to the side. The Texan was grinning at me as he rose from the bed and lumbered after Angel, in the direction of a bedroom within the suite.
I felt rooted to the spot, but I knew I had to go. I wondered if this would be like the club – if I’d get to keep some of the money from the private dance I was about to give, or would Angel just divvy it up between all three of us?
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to walk after Angel and my new client.
After all, it wasn’t like I had a choice.
15
Harrison – Saturday
By the time I got to The Pink Diamond, the place was throbbing and pulsing with music. Girls were gyrating on stage, and I took my usual place at the bar.
The bartender grinned at me. “You’re getting to be a familiar face,” she said, looking down as she poured me a drink.
I’d never noticed it before, but she was young. Maybe even as young as Hollie, or Paris. How long had she been working here? I’d seen her get treated like shit by various patrons, and she put up with all of it with a smile.
It made me think of Krista, and how young she’d been when we’d first gotten together. Back then, girls had seemed so young and naïve.
But the bartender at The Pink Diamond was hardened, tough.
It made me almost sad, to be honest ... but deep down, I knew that was because of Paris.
“Yeah, well,” I said with a shrug. “I gotta come somewhere, don’t I?”
The bartender gave me a strange look – I realized that she’d been expecting me to say something about Madison Maxx, my fake girlfriend.
“And Madison’s great,” I lied. “She’s really something.”
The bartender nodded. She slipped me my drink and patted the back of my hand, in a way that made it seem like I was the young kid and she was the old one.
“This one’s on the house,” she said. “Have fun.”
Just as she turned away, I felt a hand tap my on the shoulder. Turning to the side, I saw Madison. Her face was caked in foundation and glitter and she smiled sweetly at me, batting her eyelashes and tilting her face in an attempt to be demure.
“Hi, baaaaay,” Madison cooed. She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, leaving sticky lip gloss residue behind. “I missed you!”
I put my arm around her lean waist. “I missed you, too,” I lied. “Let me get you a drink.”
“No need,” Madison said. She took my glass in her hand and kept her eyes locked with mine before taking a sip. “I have yours,” she giggled.
Shit. I’d been hoping that she’d take the bait, that she’d sit with me for a while and I could start grilling her about the color-coded notes that Steve had found in Angel’s hard drive. And speaking of Angel, I hadn’t seen him once since arriving.
That was strange. Most of the time, he made an appearance or two on the floor, making sure that no one was abusing his precious property.
I frowned.
“Baaaby,” Madison whined. “What’s wrong? You look so sad,” she added, pouting and batting her eyes at me.
“Uh, nothing,” I said. “Hey, you know of anyone who works here named Mr. Orange?”
Madison made a weird face. “Um, is that like, foreign?” She asked, biting her plump lower lip.
“Sort of,” I said. “It’s like ... a nickname,” I added, nodding my head for emphasis. “You know. Like a game.”
“I like games,” Madison said with a girlish giggle. “You wanna play a game with me, baby?”
Yeah, I thought in exasperation. Like, tell me about your fucking boss and his fucking drug ring. That would be a real fun game.
“Yes,” I said, leaning in close and raising an eyebrow at her. “Are you free to talk for a while?”
Madison wrinkled her brow and sighed dramatically, pursing her lips and blowing a steady stream of smoke-scented air into my face.
“I wish,” she groaned. “But I have to dance double tonight.”
“Why?”
“I have to fill in for that new girl, Boston,” Madison replied sourly.
“Paris?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Madison said. “That’s her. Whatever.”
Despite my frustration with Madison Maxx in that moment, I felt a rush of cool relief. Thank god – Paris had followed my orders and quit.
She was safe.
I already missed her like hell, but knowing that she wasn’t dancing anymore made all of this much easier to bear. Someday, I knew that she’d make the right man very happy with her, and that she’d live a wonderful
life.
Damn, I just wish that it could have been with me.
“So, she quit,” I said, reaching for my drink and taking a long sip.
Madison narrowed her eyes at me. “Did I say that? I’m not retarded,” she said, an angry look flashing over her face. She rolled her eyes. “She got really greedy. She’s only been here for like, a week, and she’s already out doing special jobs.”
My heart lurched violently to the side and I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Special jobs?” I asked.
Madison nodded, leaning in like she was about to give me some confidential information.
“Yeah, special jobs,” she said, giggling. “You know. The kind where you can make like, a thousand a night.”
In that moment, I completely lost control. I grabbed Madison by the arms, squeezing her toned biceps with my hands.
“What the fuck is a special job?” I hissed. “What is she doing?”
“God, relax!” Madison cried. “It’s hooking. Nothing special, okay? Angel takes a few girls to meet with private clients. They dance, and then the guys pick a girl. It happens all the time.”
“Where?” I growled.
“Some suite at the Luxury Towers Hotel,” Madison said. She yanked herself out of my grip and scowled at me, rubbing her arms. “Why the hell do you care so much about that whore, Paris, anyway?”
I didn’t answer. The blood was pounding in my ears and all I could do was swallow. Paris, my beloved Paris, was hooking? Did she know what she had gotten herself into?
Or had Angel tricked her?
“If you want to mess around with her, we’re done,” Madison scowled. She slapped me across the face, then turned on her platform heel and stalked away.
I knew I should run after her and beg her forgiveness, if only to save the operation. But right now, the only important thing on my mind was Paris.
I had to find her, had to save her. I wasn’t going to let her do something that she’d regret for the rest of her life. With my heart pounding, I ran out of the club and got into my car. The tires screeched as I pulled out of the parking lot and I prayed that I wouldn’t hit traffic as I drove from the outskirts of the city towards downtown.
My mind was racing. I wished that I could go back in time and take back all of the hateful and hurtful things that I’d said to Paris. Back when she had been a little kid, sold by her dad to a drug dealer, it had been no one’s fault but her asshole of a parent.
But now, I was the reason why Paris was putting herself in danger like this. If I hadn’t thrown her out of my house and made irrational demands, she wouldn’t have done this. She wouldn’t be in some hotel with that motherfucker, Angel, and god knows what kind of men who wanted to buy her lovely body.
It was enough to drive a man to murder, I thought as I drove faster and faster. I called Steve and put him on speaker, pushing my foot harder and harder against the gas pedal.
“Harrison, what?” Steve barked. “You find anything out?”
“Meet me downtown, at the Luxury Towers hotel,” I snapped. “And bring back up.”
I could tell from the terse silence that followed that Steve was full of questions, but I didn’t have any time to waste and I ended the call. I’d never driven as recklessly as I was driving now, and I couldn’t seem to slow down. I sped along the highway and the other cars seemed to stand still as I whirred past them.
I saw Steve’s car pulling to a stop at the valet parking of the hotel, and I double-parked on the street across, ignoring the protests and yells of the valet. With my badge in one hand, I ran into the lobby of the hotel and flashed my badge at the front desk man.
Steve and I ran over to the concierge, huffing and puffing and breathing hard. With our badges still out, I glared at the bored-looking young woman in a suit and tie, like a bellhop.
“Can I help you?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“There’s an illegal prostitution ring working out of your hotel,” I snapped loudly. “And I need to know what room they’re in.”
That got her attention, but to my consternation she didn’t give in.
“I’m sorry, but if you’re just here on suspicion, I can’t disclose any private information about our guests,” she said.
Hot anger boiled inside of me.
“It’s more than just a suspicion,” Steve barked. “We’ve been working this case for months.”
“The owner of a strip club has a drug ring, and he has his girls hooking on the side,” I said. “You really want your hotel being involved in that shit? Something could go bad – like, real fucking bad, lady – and that would be on you. You’d lose a fuck ton of money if some asshole got rowdy and fired a gun in your penthouse.”
The girl’s face went pale and her eyes got wide.
“I ...” She trailed off, looking nervously over her shoulder before leaning in and lowering her voice. “I saw a couple of guys who looked like real bigshots and some girls dressed like strippers in the elevator,” she said. “They went all the way up to the top floor, but I don’t know which room.”
Bingo.
Steve thanked her and we, plus two other officers, got in the elevator. It seemed to take forever to arrive and my head was racing. All I could think about was Paris, Paris, Paris getting into bed with some sleazy asshole who would hurt her and use her and ruin her life.
“We don’t have a warrant,” Steve reminded me. “And no evidence of a crime other than Madison’s word, according to you.”
“I don’t care.”
Steve stared at me. “Harrison,” he said, drawing my name out slowly like I was a child. “That won’t hold up in court, and you know it.”
“I don’t fucking care,” I said. “If I lose my badge over this, fuck it. I’m not letting them do that to Paris.”
The elevator was silent.
“If you want to leave, fine,” I told Steve and the two other cops. “But I’m staying. If you don’t want court trouble, I get it, but this girl is too important to me. I can’t see her do this.”
Steve put his hand on my shoulder. “You’re like my goddamned brother,” he said. “And I’m staying.”
After a moment, the other two cops nodded their heads. I should have felt better, should have felt confident, but all I felt was blind dread and panic. This was my worst nightmare, and I was in its midst.
There was only one suite on the top floor, the penthouse, and I could hear loud music playing before the doors of the elevator even opened. Clearing my throat, I covered the peephole with one hand and knocked on the door with my other.
“Room service!” I called brightly. “Who ordered champagne?”
“Those fucking greedy bitches must have,” a voice muttered on the other side of the door. It swung open and the four of us stormed in with our guns drawn.
There were two large men sitting at opposite ends of the couch, with two strippers crawling all over them, fully naked. Angel was standing there, glaring at me with rage in his eyes. The scene was tawdry and filthy, but that didn’t even register to me.
The only thing I noticed was that there was no sight of Paris anywhere.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Angel snarled at me. I didn’t even bother to flash my badge again, just shoved my gun in his face.
“Where is she?” I growled loudly. “Where’s Paris?”
Angel didn’t answer. Just as I was about to punch him, I heard a scream from somewhere else in the suite. It had come from behind a closed door just behind the suite’s vestibule.
“Stay on him!” I yelled to Steve, then smashed through the door with my shoulder. Pain seared and flared in my shoulder, but I barely felt it. There, on the bed, a big, hairy man was pinning Paris down to the mattress. She was nude, and she screamed again as I barged into the room. I grabbed the man by his shoulder and pulled him off of her, throwing him to the ground and socking him in the jaw with a powerful fist. Blood spurted from his mouth but that wasn’t enough to make me stop, and
I punched him in the nose and kicked him in the gut.
“Man, stop!” Steve yelled. He and one of the other cops rushed into the room and yanked me off, but that wasn’t enough to stop me. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to make him suffer and bleed for what he’d done to Paris, wanted to torture him.
Paris.
Pulling my arms free from Steve’s grip, I ran to her and covered her with one of the sheets from the bed. She was sobbing, and her lip was bloody and swollen. There was another bruise forming on her cheekbone, just under her eye, and the sight of it made me want to break down.
“Keep an eye on her,” I said softly to the other cop. Paris’s lip began to tremble and I had to fight the urge to kiss her and pull her into my arms.
“He’ll keep you safe,” I told her.
“Where are you going?” Paris asked me. Her auburn hair was disheveled and sweaty and her eyes were huge with fear.
“To confront Angel,” I told her. “I promise, you’re safe now.”
16
Paris – Sunday
I was in a total daze. My head was aching and spinning and my whole body was shaking uncontrollably, to the point where I could barely hold the hotel bedsheet around myself. Harrison, my hero, had saved me once again. He’d come in, gun blazing, like saving me was his one true purpose in life.
I had no idea how it had happened. The hotel party hadn’t been my scene, exactly, but the Texans had seemed ... well, normal. But as soon as I’d gotten alone with him in the bedroom, he’d started grabbing at me.
I guessed that he’d decided dancing wouldn’t be enough to satisfy a man of his wealth.
The thought made me sick to my stomach, and I curled up in a ball in an armchair. The Texan was still lying on the floor, bleeding and grunting like a stuck pig. He looked pathetic and sad now – it was hard to believe that just minutes before, he had been trying to rape me.