Murderous Profession

by D J Small

  Dax laughed, and her anger surged.

  “What’s so damn funny?” she asked through clenched teeth.

  Dax walked back over to the chair and bent down to retrieve his glass off the side table. His chuckling continued as he walked past her and out of the den. Irritated, Eliza followed him into the kitchen. Still not saying a word to her, he placed his glass on the counter by the sink and picked up the bottle of bourbon that was sitting further back on it. He poured some into the glass.

  “Are you going to answer my question?” Eliza bit out, refusing to take his silence any longer.

  “Oh, laughing at your profoundly absurd claim doesn’t count as an answer?”

  Eliza clenched her jaw as she stared at his back and fought against the urge to deck him.

  He turned and rested his hip against the counter. “I have no desire to answer the question, but I will entertain you, Detective.” He paused, then in a slow, and clear-cut manner, he said, “Simon, Angelique, and I had clients that were vastly different.”

  “That doesn’t refute my theory,” Eliza countered as he took a drink from the glass. Having him talk to her like she was an idiot added to her irritation and anger.

  Dax drew in a breath and nodded. “It does. You see, Angelique’s clients were old white men who were basically pedophiles. She looked young enough that she was able to play into the incestuous fantasies they had about underage girls. It creeped the hell out of both of us, but she made bank doing it.”

  Eliza shuddered in revulsion. Men were disgusting creatures.

  Dax moved to stand behind the island, and his eyes never left hers. “Simon we’ve already spoken about numerous times, but it seems you need a refresher. He specialized in BDSM, humiliation, piss play, cock and ball torture, and being a dom in every aspect he could manage.”

  He took a drink of his bourbon. Silence lingered between them, and it continued after he had lowered his glass. Eliza felt like he was letting it drag on purpose.

  “And you, Dax? What do you specialize in?” she asked as soon as she was fed up with his silence.

  Dax moved to the corner of the island opposite the one Eliza stood next to. Less than a foot of space separated them now. “I do many things, but my favorite is the boyfriend experience. Clients wine and dine me, or have me accompany them to some event—or even on a trip—and through it all I am the perfect boyfriend. I make my clients feel like they are the only thing that matters to me. I cherish them, and on some superficial level, I even love them. It’s a role I play quite well, because they deserve it. When we’re in bed, I touch them, worship them, and make love to them in ways they have never experienced before.” Dax placed his glass on top of the island, then lifted his hand, moving it towards Eliza’s face. He extended a manicured finger and trailed it lightly across Eliza’s jaw. His voice dropped as he said, “Ways I would like to show you.”

  Eliza’s breath hitched, her heart began to beat a little faster, and slowly but surely, arousal made its way through her body. Dax’s close proximity made her anxious, and the reaction seemed to intensify the response her body was having, but as she stared into his expressive brown eyes and saw the undeniable certainty that blazed in them, Eliza knew it was entirely because of him.

  The moment lasted for a second longer, then Dax dropped his hand and took a step back, picking up his drink and taking a long sip from it. He took the glass with him as he walked around the island and sat down on one of the stools in front of it. “I do other things as well, but the boyfriend experience is something I particularly enjoy. Not only do I get money and other perks, but I love what the experience gives a woman. It’s a beautiful thing.”

  Eliza managed to break through the thick cloud of desire that had fogged up her brain after a few seconds, but it took her another moment to process everything Dax had said.

  “What other things do you do?” Eliza asked as she shoved all thoughts of their prior moment to the far recesses of her mind.

  “One-time encounters, threesomes, a different experience for those wanting to explore their sexuality.” He gave a nonchalant shrug with one shoulder. “Being transgender allows me to provide people with a different, possibly new, sexual experience.” Dax smiled. “I like to call myself the gateway drug to sexual fluidity.”

  For the second time during their conversation, Dax had surprised Eliza, and it left her floundering for what to say next. She sat down on the stool closest to her, which was at the opposite end of the island. “I never...You’re transgender?”

  Dax laughed, and Eliza scowled.

  He waved his hand at her as he tried to calm down. “I’m sorry, but of all the things I’ve said to you, me being trans is a rather benign point for you to focus on.”

  Still recovering from his revelation, Eliza struggled—and failed—to come up with something to say. “I...I...You’re...”

  Dax resumed laughing, and the sound helped Eliza come out of her confusion and anger took its place.

  “You can’t laugh at me after telling me something like that!” she snapped.

  “Why not?” Dax asked through his laughter.

  She gestured towards him. “How the hell was I supposed to know? You’re so damn confident, suave, and full of yourself that you come off like any other guy. You’re like a short, black, highly irritating version of James Bond.”

  Dax grinned at her. “Why, Detective Miller, I do believe that constitutes as a compliment.”

  He winked at her, and it caused Eliza’s traitorous body to completely forsake her again, resulting in her blushing.

  “Ho-ho,” Dax said with a chuckle. “That has to be the most adorable thing I have ever seen.” An endearing smile filled his face. “You’re beautiful when you blush.”

  Fed up with making a complete fool of herself in more ways than one, Eliza said, “I have to go.”

  She got off the stool and rushed out of the kitchen, but Dax quickly caught up to her, gently taking hold of her arm. “No, you don’t, Detective. We are in the middle of a conversation. Come on.”

  Eliza tried to break free of his grip, but Dax tightened his hold.

  “No,” she said, “I’m done. It’s obvious you’re enjoying the fact that I’m making an ass out of myself.”

  Dax released her arm and said, “That is far from the case. I find it amusing because I thought you knew.” He put his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “Do you remember the day you showed up at my apartment that first time?”

  It felt like a lifetime ago, but Eliza recalled the day he was talking about, though she failed to see his point. “Yes, what about it?”

  “Remember how I answered the door in nothing but a towel?”

  The memory was a hazy one for Eliza due to the shock of his boldness, and it had clouded a few details.

  “Vaguely.” Eliza turned and pinned him down with a pointed gaze. “The only thing I can remember clearly is how annoying you were. Oh, and the clients you were entertaining. Did you have to issue any spankings?”

  Dax smirked, and he began to move closer to her. His voice dropped to a seductive timbre. “No, but if you’re looking for one, Detective, I am willing to deliver it.”

  Eliza held up her hand and took a step back. Having him invade her personal space was unwise, especially given that her body and thoughts wanted to betray her when it came to him. “Stop. What is your point?”

  Confusion marred Dax’s face. “You really didn’t see them?”

  “See what?” Eliza asked sharply, still not understanding the point of this ridiculous conversation.

  “The scars from my top surgery,” Dax replied, sounding a little surprised.

  It was Eliza’s turn to be the confused one, and her eyebrows furrowed. “No, I...” She forced herself to try and remember every detail from that first meeting with Dax, but she couldn’t recall noticing any scars. “I didn’t.”

  Dax hummed. “Not very astute of you, Detective. I’m beginning to question your ability to protec
t me.”

  The comment pulled out Eliza out of her confusion. “Now, you listen here, buddy—”

  Dax started to laugh, and as she stared at him, Eliza realized he wasn’t serious.

  “You’re an asshole.”

  “I apologize,” Dax said as he caught his breath. “I couldn’t help myself.” He drew in a deep breath and grinned. “You’re so easy to rile up. It’s cute.”

  Eliza rolled her eyes and turned to go into the den. “I didn’t notice your scars because I was too aggravated by you.”

  She walked back to the den, heading to the fireplace once she entered it. It was probably in her best interest to leave, but Eliza didn’t want to go quite yet. Dax may have been an asshole to her, but he hadn’t seriously meant it, and there were parts of him that she was intrigued to know more about. When he wasn’t being overtly flirtatious and acted less like himself, he was quite fascinating.

  Eliza turned to find Dax leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face, and his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Why did you answer the door like that?”

  Dax chuckled quietly. “I had ordered refreshments for my clients and I, and the place I ordered from is well aware of what I do for a living. Their delivery person has caught me in that type of situation before, so I thought nothing of it. I would usually have a robe on, but it wasn’t accessible at the time.”

  Eliza snorted in disbelief. “I’m sure it wasn’t.”

  “It was in the dryer, Detective. Scout’s honor.”

  Eliza’s eyebrow arched in a silent challenge.

  Dax nodded. “Okay, sex worker’s honor.”

  “I don’t know if that’s any better,” Eliza muttered. She sighed. His profession was another reason why her conflicting feelings had to stop. There were too many complications that came from it. Some were rooted in her own personal issues, and others were because of the risks that came with his job.

  Eliza gave her head a slight shake. It didn’t matter. These feelings were only happening because Dax was growing on her, and nothing else. There was no way she was attracted to a sex worker. “I have to go.”

  Dax pushed off the doorframe and said, “Nonsense. It’s almost dinnertime, and I was going to treat Officer Lin to Jamaican.” He huffed in amazement. “Can you believe he has never had it? How can you live in a cultural hub like New York and never have eaten Jamaican food? That is a crime.”

  Eliza shook her head. “I’ve never had it either.”

  “An even bigger reason for you to stay.” Dax grinned. “I won’t get you the oxtail right off the bat, but let me tell you, it is delicious.”

  Eliza pulled a face. Never in a million years would she eat something involving ox tails. “Dax, I can’t. I have to get back to the station.”

  “Oh, come on, Detective Miller,” he insisted. “You have to eat dinner, and this is my treat. It gives me a chance to pay you back, even though you think I’m a suspect.”

  Though there was a grin on his face as he made the accusation, but the statement hit Eliza in one of the weak spots that she was currently warring with, and against her better judgement, she said, “I honestly don’t believe you’re a suspect.”

  Startled by what she had said, Dax gave his head a slight shake. “Oh, really?”

  “Yes, really,” Eliza said with a sigh. She didn’t think Dax would say or do anything to compromise her investigation, so she didn’t hate herself too much for revealing what she truly thought. What she did despise were the feelings that she was developing for him. They were foolish, and apparently made her share information he honestly didn’t need to know.

  Dax began to walk towards her. “Then all the more reason for you to stay.” He slipped a hand into the pocket of his lounge pants and smiled. “It’ll give us a chance to really get to know one another. I mean, you already know one of the biggest things there is about me.”

  There was a part of Eliza that wanted to stay and get to know Dax better, but it was tied to her emotions, and logic eventually overruled it, reminding her that he was a sex worker and there was no point in doing so.

  She moved around Dax, and softly said, “I’ve got to go to the station, Dax, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Dax followed her out of the den. “No worries, Detective.”

  Eliza went to the foyer, and as she put on her coat, she saw Dax watching her. He gave a brief wave of his fingers and said, “Stay safe, Detective Miller.”

  Eliza flashed him an insincere smile and left the house. The second the door closed behind her, she forced out a deep breath and shook her head. She wasn’t sure how she had gotten into this position, but she blamed it on Dax. He was a professional smooth-talker and had succeeded in entangling her in his web. Eliza scowled as she walked down the steps of the porch. That particular thought didn’t leave behind a warm and fuzzy feeling, and it added one more thing to the tornado of thoughts and emotions that were taking over her mind.

  8

  Eliza and Billy exited one of the many tall buildings that lined Wall Street. She hated this part of the city, and would be glad to be out of it. Nothing but sleazy bankers, stockbrokers, and entitled rich guys filled the buildings, and all they did was sit around and jerk each other off. If any of them ended up in one of the rougher neighborhoods, they’d probably shit themselves.

  “You were awfully quiet back there,” Billy said as they crossed the street.

  “Didn’t have much to say,” Eliza countered brusquely as she shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat and burrowed her face into the collar. “The guy was an arrogant prick. Had I said something, I probably would have arrested him for drug possession, and don’t tell me he wasn’t carrying.”

  Billy chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t dare do that.”

  She turned her head to look at him. “Besides, it’s not like he would have told us anything more had I taken over the conversation. The guy is a massive closet case. He doesn’t want anyone in his firm to know that he likes to get his balls smashed in by another guy for fun.”

  Billy drew in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Can you refrain from talking about the purposeful trauma of the jewels? Mine go hiding at the mention of it, and it’s a bitch to find them.”

  Eliza chuckled.

  “Ah, there she is. I thought I was going to have to deal with your sour puss for the rest of the day. What’s the matter with you?”

  Eliza shrugged as she focused on the street in front of her. Dax was her problem, but she wasn’t going to tell Billy that, and honestly there wasn’t anything to tell. “It’s this fucking case. We’re not getting anywhere, and it’s frustrating as hell.”

  She knew the half-truth would be enough to get Billy off her back, but it didn’t do anything about her Dax problem. The conflicting thoughts and emotions that she had about him seemed to consume her mind after their conversation yesterday, and it took a tremendous amount of concentration for her to focus.

  She and Billy were still trying to figure out what the connection was between Dax and Pleasure Inc., as well as figuring out what it had to do with Angelique and Simon’s murders. They already knew Dax was considering them as a firm to work for, but Eliza knew there was more. However, she couldn’t figure it out with these stupid thoughts about Dax filling her head, and it was driving her up the wall.

  He was unlike anyone else Eliza had been drawn to before, and it confused her for so many reasons. He was blunt, honest, and had a wicked sense of humor, which was a complete opposite of those Eliza had dated in the past. She also had a talent for attracting deceptive people that carried manipulative streaks, and sex workers were professional manipulators, which meant she was even more wary of Dax. His entire profession was built on twisting people’s emotions just to get them into bed for money.

  She released a frustrated growl. “Let’s go interview those two guys from Angelique’s list, then we can pick up the dealer for our other case.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Billy said as they approa
ched the unmarked car he and Eliza were using.

  They got into it, and as they drove through the city, Eliza stared out of the window. She tried to think about her other cases, but thoughts of Dax kept interrupting her.

  Billy was maneuvering the car through Lower Manhattan when her phone began to ring. Eliza pulled it out of her coat pocket and answered it. “Miller.”

  “Detective, Officer Walker. I’m assigned to Dax’s safe house this afternoon.”

  Eliza instantly went on high alert. “Has something happened? Is he okay?”

  “No, ma’am, nothing has happened. Mr. Collins is just fine,” the officer answered quickly.

  Eliza exhaled a relieved breath. “Then what is the reason for your call, Officer Walker?”

  The line fell silent for a moment, then Officer Walker reluctantly said, “He wanted to speak with you.”

  Eliza huffed out an irritated breath. “No, I’m not going to speak with him. I’m busy trying to find the person that killed his friends and is after him.”

  “I advised him of this, Detective, but he is being relentless,” Officer Walker said.

  Eliza could hear the frustration in her voice, and as she opened her mouth to say something, she heard shuffling on the other side of the call, making her pause.

  “Mr. Collins, you cannot take my phone,” Officer Walker scolded, sounding beyond exasperated with Dax’s antics.

  A chuckle from Dax followed the admonishment. “This will only take a second, Officer Walker.”

  He spoke into the phone. “Detective?”

  “Mr. Collins,” Eliza said curtly, “do you want me to terminate your protective custody? Because you are being everything but cooperative when you take an officer’s phone.”

  Another chuckle came through the phone, and Dax said, “My, I see someone is in a feisty mood.”

  “What do you want, Dax?”

  “What I want, Detective Legs...” Dax started, and Eliza disregarded the way her stomach flipped at the nickname. The fact she now found it endearing was mildly irritating. “Is for you to join me for dinner tonight. I allowed you to blow me off last night, but not again.” His voice lowered, and a pit formed in Eliza’s stomach. “I want to thank you. No flirtatious overtures, just a gracious man wanting to thank the woman that is helping him.”