Rose, Undercover (Dead Roses #1.1)

by RaShelle Workman

  Swallowing, I used my knees and did the splits; grateful my black belt training kept me flexible, and then moved my hands to untie my top.

  Before I could pull it down, Vincent jumped up. “That’s enough. We’ve seen enough!” He leapt over the couch, like a panther after its prey, grabbed the comforter from the bed, and rushed back toward the stage. “Get down from there. Right now.”

  Embarrassed, I held the two small pieces of cloth over my breasts, and searched his face. He looked so furious I wondered if he would break a blood vessel in his forehead.

  Stepping off the stage I moved into the comforter. “I told you I wasn’t any good at this, Vincent.” My heart lurched. He wrapped the comforter around me, his lips pressed together in a firm line. “I really tried,” I added. For some reason tears sprang into my eyes.

  He didn’t say anything, and forced me into the bathroom, closing the door behind us, leaving Jack with his mouth open looking like a stuffed carp.

  Once the door was closed, he pushed me against the wall, his hands tightly gripping my arms. A tendril of fear curled through my veins until I looked into his eyes. Anger, sure, but there was more. Passion. Desire.

  Timidly, I asked, “Did you change your mind? Am I really that awful?”

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I wondered if he would kiss me. Truth be told I really wanted him to, but he didn’t. Releasing his grip on my arms he said, “No, you’ll do great.” He leaned back. “I’ll go get your clothes.”

  I didn’t want him to go, and I needed to know his intentions. Grabbing his hand I laced his fingers in between mine.

  Surprised, he searched my face, and growled. “You don’t have to use your ability to know my intentions, Rose.”

  Instantly his lips were on mine. Soft, yet demanding. Taking my other hand in his he pressed me against the wall, and held me there. I was a captive in his arms, and I never wanted to leave. He pushed opened my lips, deepening the kiss and I felt it everywhere, my body on fire with need.

  Pictures of what he wanted to do to me, with me strutted across my mind, making my legs shake.

  Several minutes later, his lips left mine and I withered a little, already missing them. The twinkle was back in his eyes. “Little Rose is all grown up,” he whispered.

  I laughed quietly. “Yes, ten years can do a lot for a person.”

  His face grew serious. “When this case is over, I think we should finish right here, where we started, and discuss my ideas where you’re concerned.” His thumb brushed against my bottom lip, l.

  “I like that idea,” I said, my voice cracking, excitement bubbling over.

  “For the first time ever I hate my idea. I don’t want anyone but me seeing you do what you just did in there.” His eyes grew dark again.

  Inside I beamed. Apparently I wasn’t that bad after all. “It won’t be for too long though, right?”

  “I’m guessing it’ll be a few days at most.” He placed his hand on the doorknob. “Get dressed. I’ll take Jack out of the room. When you’re finished the three of us need to go over the plan.”

  He was back to all business.

  “I’ll hurry.”

  “See you in a few.” He winked and opened the door. I heard him say to Jack, “Come on, let’s give the girl a minute to get presentable.”

  “I didn’t think it was that bad,” Jack said.

  The double doors closed.

  Chapter 11

  I stood in the wings, listening to the catcalls, and cries of approval as Candy did her naughty teacher routine. I’d watched several girls for the last few hours, and was impressed by how seriously most took their job. They were all great, but some were amazing. They would walk off the stage with hundreds of dollars in their G-string, and I understood why.

  ***

  In the dressing room, the girls kept a pool going. Whoever ended up with the most cash by the end of the night bought the first round of drinks. The girl with the least was the designated non-partyer-stick-in-the-mud. She made sure everyone got home safely.

  I casually questioned if this was always done, wondering how Lola could’ve left unnoticed.

  “Sure is, kid,” the star of the club, Envy, said.

  Cinnamon, one of the other girls added, “Yeah, but a lot of times the early shift don’t end up participatin’ on account of they ain’t here.”

  “You want in, Sugar?” Evny asked, giving me a once over and shaking her head as though I would be the non-partyer-stick-in-the-mud for sure.

  A girl by the name of Cherry, with blond hair and blue eyes, said, “I think her outfit is adorable. Expensive.” She came over and touched the hem of my dress. “You’ll do great, Sugar. I’ll buy you a drink later, K.”

  I swallowed. “Cool, thanks.”

  She moved like she was going to kiss me, but turned at the last second and sniffed. “You smell like Heaven.” She winked and left.

  “Don’t mind Cherry. She’s into all the girls. At first. You’ll get use to her.”

  I nodded; feeling like I’d entered a whole new world. From the outside strippers were considered offensive, even revolting, but within the confines of the club there was a hierarchy with all sorts laws. Plus they all seemed pretty nice.

  ***

  Candy finished her set. Loud applauses went out. A few seconds later Candy swept through the curtain, breasts hanging out and wads of cash in her hands and G-string.

  “Good job,” I said, as a wave of nausea hit me. I was next.

  She smiled, “Go get em, Sugar.”

  My heart beat rapidly, and my palms were sweaty. What if I made a complete and total fool of myself? Jack and Vincent were going to be out there, dressed in disguise, watching over the crowd, keeping me safe.

  The announcer, a guy with the deep voice said: “And now, please welcome to our stage a brand new dancer. She fresh, she’s hot, and she’s a stripper virgin. Welcome Suuugarrrrrr.”

  The crowd shouted and whistled. A stagehand parted the curtain. “Good luck.” He gave me thumbs up. My music started to play. I needed to get out there right away.

  Remembering the two dead girls, I lifted my chin and strutted out. The place was packed. Eager men, and even woman all watched.

  Didn’t these people have families?

  I forced a breath into my lungs and leaned against the pole. Reaching my hands above my head I grasped the pole and moved my hips.

  “Shake it, virgin,” some guy shouted.

  I cringed. I can do this!

  “Show us your virgin titties.” The guy sounded a lot like Poser. Vincent told the other detectives in our unit not to come. He didn’t want their presence to spook the killer. Knowing Poser, he hadn’t listened.

  I bent over, shaking my ass.

  The power went out.

  Surprised, I stood.

  Shouts went out, loud grumblings about their night being ruined.

  I sensed someone behind me, and turned. Something pinched my neck, like a spider bite. I put a hand to my neck and felt wetness. My knees, and legs got weak. My eyes were heavy. I couldn’t keep them opened, and I fell into someone.

  Chapter 12

  When I woke, I immediately remembered what happened. Trying to sit up, I realized my hands were tied together with a zip tie, and they were attached with a chain to a bed. It looked like a motel room. Thankfully my legs weren’t tied up. They made the best weapons.

  Turning my head, I searched for the person who’d taken me, but I saw no one. I tugged on the chain, moving my head, trying to see if there was a way to get myself free. It was secure.

  A toilet flushed. A door opened.

  And out walked Detective Ramsey.

  At the sight of him two emotions flashed across my thoughts. The first was relief and then sadness.

  “It isn’t you, is it?” I asked softly, grief welling up inside as I thought of his wife, and four young daughters. They would be devastated. Forever changed. “You couldn’t…”

  His eyes
went hard. “You’re just like my wife.”

  I thought about his wife. Blond. Blue-eyed. I’d heard a rumor she was big on fooling around. His little girls were blond and blue-eyed as well.

  “What about your girls?” I tried to sit up, biting my lower lip. “Why would you do this?”

  “You’re all whores,” he roared, his freckled baldhead and face turning red with anger.

  I was stunned. Detective Ramsey always played the good husband and doting father, showing pictures of both all the time. If he felt that way about women, his girls, he was a monster.

  All killers are monsters, I reprimanded, wondering if I could get out of this alive.

  His face changed, hardened into an almost unrecognizable mask, and I knew the devil had come out. He sat on the bed, tore my skimpy dress, exposing my breasts. “This is what you like, right?” he asked, roughly pinching a nipple.

  “No, stop it,” I whispered, tears leaking from my eyes. Fear like I’ve never experienced seemed to swallow me whole, and I couldn’t think. He pulled a roll of duct tape from his pocket, and slapped a piece over my mouth.

  “No more talking little Rosy. I’ll screw you, kill you, and dump you in the alley, where all whores belong.”

  I felt my eyes grow wide. My heart beat so rapidly I thought it would burst from my chest. This couldn’t be happening. My mother was raped, and now I would suffer the same fate.

  “No. Please, no,” I tried to shout through the tape.

  He climbed onto the bed, and roughly pulled down the red thong, brushing his thumbs along the part of me no man had ever touched.

  “Little whore, you don’t disappoint. When Agent Mackey said he was putting you undercover as a stripper I nearly exploded on the spot.” His hands spread my legs, making me open to him.

  My eyes rolled into the back of my head. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening.

  In that moment I couldn’t think, barely breathed, and wanted to die.

  He pulled a knife from a sheath behind his back. It was huge, and gleamed in the dimly lit room. I knew it was the knife he’d used on the other two girls.

  “See this, whore. After I’m done using your body, I’m going to jam this into your back. It’s only fitting you don’t get to see the end coming. A whore doesn’t deserve the honor.”

  I tried to scream, pulling my hands at the restraints.

  Until a memory of what my mother told me came to mind. And I could swear I heard her say, “You have to fight, darling. Save yourself. You’re strong. Use your legs.”

  My intentions became crystal clear. I would crush the air out of him, forcing him unconscious.

  Remembering my black belt training, I lifted my legs and wrapped them around Detective Ramsey’s neck. He gaped at me, shocked.

  “How dare you touch me without my permission.” His face started turning red. I felt something sting the back of my leg. Had he stabbed me?

  I didn’t have time to consider. Squeezing tight, I turned my body, and like a python, held on. More stings bit my left leg. Ignoring the strange sensation, I flipped my body, and broke his neck.

  Detective Ramsey stopped moving. I fell back in relief. The room started to get hazy.

  From a distance I heard, “FBI, open up!” The door splintered opened. Vincent burst into the room. Behind him was Jack.

  “Oh, dear God,” Jack said. That’s when I knew something was wrong.

  I forced myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

  Vincent sat next to me, stroking my cheeks. “Rose, you’re going to be fine. I’m here.”

  Jack shouted orders in the background. And other voices hollered, “Clear.”

  “Clear.”

  “Do you have a son?” I asked, barely recognizing my voice, realizing I wasn’t going to be fine.

  He shook his head. “No, I have a nephew.”

  “Cool,” I uttered and closed my eyes. In. Out. In. Out.

  “You want to meet him?” Vincent asked his voice choked up.

  “I do.” I tried to nod my head. In. Out.

  “Rosy, hold on. The paramedics are coming,” I heard Jack say. There was a pressure on my hands.

  “Jack, I got him,” I mumbled.

  “You sure did.”

  I forgot what I was supposed to be doing.

  Epilogue

  Christmas music tinkled in my ears.

  “She’s coming to.” It was Jack. “I’ll go get the doctor.” The Christmas music left with him.

  I opened my eyes, and Vincent’s handsome face was there. “Water?” I asked, my throat feeling especially parched.

  He picked up a cup with a straw in it. “It’s cold.”

  I took a sip, the icy water felt wonderful against my throat. “Thank you.”

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting next to me.

  “Tired.” An immense pain seemed to surround my left leg. “My leg hurts.”

  He sighed with relief. “The doctor will give you something for the pain. It’s good you can feel your leg. You were stabbed eight times.”

  I felt my heart beat fast at the memory. I guessed those were the stings I felt when I’d been trying to get away.

  Vincent leaned close, and tears filled his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Rose. I said I’d protect you and I didn’t.”

  I covered his large hand with mine. It felt cool against his warm one. “I know you did the best you could.” I closed my eyes, unable to keep them open. After a moment, I asked, “What day is it?”

  “It’s Christmas, and it’s snowing.”

  “Really?” I asked, blinking my eyes opened. “I want to see.”

  He jumped up and opened the blinds on the window. “Look.”

  “It’s beautiful. Merry Christmas, Vincent.”

  He came back over and gently kissed my dry lips. “Merry Christmas, Rose.”

  Afterword

  Thank you so much for reading “Undercover Christmas” (Dead Roses #1.1). Rose is a complex character. Writing about her escapades as she tries to navigate her life as a detective, and as a person with the ability to read someone’s intentions, is challenging because I want to stay true to her.

  If you enjoyed “Undercover Christmas,” please do me a big favor. Go back to amazon and leave an honest review. It only takes a couple of minutes, but will help me out so much.

  Thank you!

  Sincerely,

  RaShelle Workman

  Additional Works by RaShelle Workman

  Romantic Suspense Series

  Sleeping Roses

  Dead Roses series, book 1. Her marriage is dangerous, but leaving him could be deadly. If you’d like to purchase “Sleeping Roses,” click HERE.

  YA Series

  Blood and Snow volumes 1-4 (Blood and Snow, Revenant in Training, The Vampire Christopher, Blood Soaked Promises)

  “Lips red as rubies, hair dark as night. Drink your true love’s blood, become the Vampire, Snow White.” Every thousand years the Vampire Queen selects a new body, always the fairest in the land, and this time she’s chosen Snow White. To purchase the Blood and Snow 4 pack, click Blood and Snow volumes 1-4 (Blood and Snow, Revenant in Training, The Vampire Christopher, Blood Soaked Promises)

  Blood and Snow 5-8 (Prey and Magic, Masquerade’s Moon, Seal of Gabriel, Telltale Kisses)

  To purchase Blood and Snow 5-8, click HERE.

  Immortal Essence Box Set (Aligned: An Immortal Essence Short Story, Exiled, Beguiled)

  Worlds divided them. Chance brought them together. Only love will save them. To purchase the Immortal Essence Box Set, click HERE.

  Indelible writers you might enjoy reading, and their purchase links, can be found by clicking HERE.

  About the Author

  RaShelle Workman is the bestselling author of the Dead Roses series ("Sleeping Roses" is being translated into Turkish, and will be available in print wherever Turkish books are sold in 2014), the Immortal Essence series, Blood and Snow series and Touching Melody (A Forever First Novel
). She's sold over three hundred thousand copies of her novels worldwide in the past year, including Japan, Canada, and Europe. You can find RaShelle all over the web, but the best place to start is on her blog: rashelleworkman.com.

  Contact Information

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  Copyright Information

  License Notes:

  ASIN:B00A85SOUU

  All rights reserved. Copyright @2012 RaShelle Workman

  Cover design by: RaShelle Workman www.rashelleworkman.com

  Design copyright @2012 RaShelle Workman

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  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the author, RaShelle Workman, P.O. Box 1408 Bountiful, Ut. 84011.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.