The Chase

by Lauren Hawkeye

  He grabs my chin firmly, forces me to look at him. His insistence is hot. “Don’t you go doubting yourself. I want you. I want to run my mouth over every last inch of your skin, then bury myself inside of you like I’ve never done with a woman before. I want to fuck you so hard that every time you move the next day, you remember who was inside of you, and why.”

  Wow. Well, when you put it that way...

  “Then what’s wrong?” Tentatively I reach for him again, but he shakes his head. “I want to make you feel good, too. Let me.”

  “I need to tell you something first.” Lips pressed together tightly, he opens his mouth to speak again, but seems to be distracted by the sight of my breasts.

  I want him enough to play dirty, so I bend over just a bit and wiggle. The globes of my breasts jiggle, and Adam bites out a curse.

  “I need a fucking shower. A cold one.” Eyeing me suspiciously, as if I might jump him and make him like it, he stoops to pick up my fallen jeans and T-shirt. I could use a change of panties too, since the ones I’m wearing are now stretched and soaked, but they’ll have to do. “Get dressed. I’ll be right back.”

  Without warning he peels off his leather pants, kicking them aside, and I’m treated to a second of glorious, full frontal nakedness. My mouth falls open and I think I might squeak a bit.

  I want to worship that body with my mouth. Every last bit of it.

  Clearly knowing just what I’m thinking, his lips twitch, like he’s holding back a smile, and then he strides off to the small dressing room bathroom. He leaves the door open as he turns on the water, and I take full advantage of my unfettered view of his hard, tight ass, bared to my sight.

  “Get your eyes off my ass and get dressed.” He calls to me before climbing into the shower. “I’ll just be a sec.” The lack of steam rolling out from the small room tells me that he’s true to his word and is dousing his desire under frigid water. But why?

  I’m dressed and perched on the worn couch, fingers twined together nervously, when he re-emerges, presumably to tell me just that.

  “I need to tell you something,” he repeats, scrubbing a towel over his hair. Other than that towel, he’s still completely naked, and he’s standing close enough that I can see beads of water sliding over his skin. The shower seems to have cooled his arousal a bit, but seeing his cock at half mast just makes my fingers itch to make it fully hard again.

  He doesn’t even seem to notice the effect he’s having on me, his brow furrowed in concentration.

  “Can you maybe put some clothes on first?” My voice is a little faint. Adam looks down at his naked frame, and I’m rewarded with that ghost of a smile again.

  “I like that I can distract you, kitten.” He doesn’t bother with clothes though, instead wrapping his towel around his waist and cinching it there. He rakes one hand through his damp hair, searching for words.

  “I—” He’s cut off by the now-familiar knock on the door, accompanied by his phone buzzing.

  “Amy?” I ask, feeling distance growing between us at the very sound of her name. No matter what just happened between us, we are two such very different people, him with his entourage, and me... the hooker.

  He scowls at the door, and shakes his head. “Screw it. I’m not answering.”

  Bang. Bang. Bang. “Adam, I know you’re in there with her! It’s an emergency!”

  Adam mutters a curse, then stalks across the tiny room, flinging the door open. He’s totally unselfconscious about the fact that he’s not wearing anything but a towel around his waist, but Amy’s mouth falls open... and she makes a sound not unlike my squeak.

  I have a moment of almost-sympathy. Being confronted with that perfect body is a mind numbing experience.

  Adam clears his throat; Amy recovers her composure. She looks from me to Adam and back to me, not able to hide the hint of disbelief that he is here, almost naked, with me.

  “I’m not sure how you want to handle this...” she’s speaking to Adam, but her body language tells me this is about me.

  “You can talk in front of Carly.” Adam’s voice is gruff, and he waves impatiently with his hands. “Just hurry up. We were in the middle of something.”

  I watch as Amy once again looks Adam over, then takes in my flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Understanding of just what we had been in the middle of dawns, and if looks could kill, I’d be six feet under, dug up, and buried again.

  “Fine.” Amy adjusts the ever present Bluetooth headpiece at her ear. I wonder if she ever takes it off, even during sex.

  “I looked up more of her background, like you asked.” She smirks at me, and I feel something cold trickle down my spine—I think it’s dread. Adam looks abashed for a moment as I glare at him, but then he lifts his chin, just a bit. I can just imagine the words he’s not saying.

  I want you, kitten. But this is a whole new ball game for me.

  Mollified, I tune back in, startling when I hear my mom’s name.

  “It popped up while I was searching—Judy Daniels, age 64, admitted to Greenwood County Hospital. It looked like she’d been beaten. Police think it has to do with a gambling debt. She’s unconscious, and authorities had no success getting hold of the daughter.”

  “What?” I can feel the blood drain from my face. “Is she okay?”

  Amy holds up a hand for me to stop. “They wouldn’t tell me anything when I called. But I’ve cleared out the dressing room next door. The number’s already punched in on my phone here.” She smiles at me, and her obviously sympathetic smile seems a bit overdone, but still barely registers through my panic.

  Mom is clearly in deeper trouble than I could ever have imagined. And here I am, halfway across the country seducing a rock star instead of earning money that could get her out of trouble. She might not have been the best mom on the planet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love her.

  “I’ll go with you.” Adam turns, reaches for a pair of sweatpants that are lying neatly folded on a table full of bottles of water.

  “No!” Adam and I both jump as Amy speaks far too loudly for the small room. “Sorry. But I think it’s best if Carly goes alone, Adam. If you go with her the cameras will just come out again.”

  I watch as a muscle in Adam’s jaw tenses; he’s grinding his teeth with clear frustration. “Fine.” His eyes meet my own. “Whatever you need, it’s yours.”

  The reassurance melts a path through the panic that’s welling up inside of me. I nod my head jerkily, sliding my feet into the gaudy rhinestone flipflops that Amy bought me to go with my jeans and Maneater shirt. I hesitate, wanting to give Adam a light kiss or something to thank him, but I’m not sure if he’d appreciate that with Amy standing right here.

  Turns out I don’t have to. He clasps those talented fingers of his around my upper arms, lifts me right off my feet to press a hard, hot kiss to my lips. When he puts me down on my feet he gives me a gentle push toward the door. “Go. I’ll try to get over there too.”

  Clutching Amy’s phone in sweaty fingers, I squint into the dimness. There aren’t nearly as many people around now as there were right after the show, and the lights backstage have been dimmed. I think Adam could have come with me just fine, but I’m not going to take the time to go back and argue the point, not right now.

  I push through the half open door of the dressing room next door. It’s completely dark, and I fumble for a light switch on the wall inside the door.

  I can’t find it, and decide that it doesn’t matter. Stabbing a finger at the home button on the phone, I pull up the phone function. I can’t see the phone number, just a green button that says “place call”, and frantically press it.

  I hear the phone ringing... and ringing. Finally someone answers, and it’s not who I expected.

  “Hello?” There’s no mistaking the smoker’s rasp that is the voice of Judy Daniels.

  “Oh my God. Mom. Mom! Are you okay? Are you still at the hospital?” The words tumble over one another in a frantic rush. “Wha
t the hell happened? Beaten? You were beaten?”

  My mom lets out a sharp bark of surprise. “Beaten? Who the hell told you that, honey pie?”

  “What?” I ask stupidly, but I instantly understand that something’s wrong here. “You mean... you’re okay? Are you still in the hospital?”

  “I was at the hospital last week to get that MRI thingie done.” She snorts, stating her opinion of our health care system. “And just like I told that doctor, I’m just fine. I had insurance send you that money back. Did it go back into your account? You haven’t been answering any of my calls.”

  She makes a humph sound, her version of parental guilt. “Too good to talk your mama now that you almost got that fancy degree?”

  “No. Mama. What the hell?” My head is spinning.

  My mom is fine.

  She was in the hospital, but for something else entirely... something for which she borrowed my money and then apparently put it back.

  “Are you feeling all right, honey pie? You sound simple.” She tsks, and I listen to her light up a cigarette.

  “So... you’re okay.” I speak slowly, wondering what the hell I got wrong here. Did I misunderstand Amy?

  No. No, the bitch is up to something.

  “I’m just fine. I’m heading off to the casino with Ted in five. So just tell me you got the money back all right.”

  “The money that you borrowed... why?” Closing my eyes, I count to ten. “You should have asked.”

  “Well, I tried, Carly, but you never picked up.” She rattles off the cell number that I got just a few weeks ago... but with one digit wrong. “And I really didn’t want to. But I was in a tight spot. I needed to put the money down until I knew the insurance would come through.”

  No longer concerned for her safety, I can feel my temper rising. I try to pace, but jam my shin into a table that I can’t see because I still can’t find the fucking light switch.

  “You should have your own savings, Mama. I need that money for school.” Jesus, is all I can think. I took a job as a hooker because I thought I was broke... all because my mother borrowed money that she didn’t have. Though it’s a definite plus that she didn’t gamble it away. “And you’d have it, if you didn’t blow it all at the damn casino.”

  My voice is rising with my temper, but really, after the last couple of days, this is just the icing on the cake.

  There’s a long silence, but when she speaks again, I can hear that I’ve crossed the line, at least in her opinion. I’m so mad, I don’t much care, but I still don’t hang up, because I’m still trying to get over the fact that she’s not in the hospital in a coma.

  “Listen here, young lady.” Ooh. I haven’t been called that in almost five years. “I know you’ve never cared for life here. Always wanted more, even when you were a little girl. And you’re smart enough that you’ll get it. But not everyone is like you. Not everyone has shame over living a simple life.”

  To my utter surprise, I feel shame working its way through my annoyance.

  “I gamble more than I ought to. I know it. But that’s the joy in my life, now that you’re gone. And a college education might make you smarter than me, but it don’t give you license to judge.”

  I’m stunned. And mortified.

  Because part of what she says is absolutely right.

  “Mama, I—” But Judy Daniels is on a roll, and cuts me off before I can speak.

  “I know I wasn’t the best mother in the world, but I did what I could with what I had. And while I don’t understand it, I’m proud of you for bettering yourself.” The words are begrudging, yet tinged with a hint of maternal pride that lets me know she’s telling the truth. “But I sure hope that you haven’t gotten so hoity-toity that you begrudge a loan to the woman who raised you, because while I made a lot of mistakes, I taught you your manners. If you were so upset, you should have called me back.”

  I would have, if I’d gotten the messages. That’s not my fault. But for jumping to conclusions the day I called Mama after I left the bank? For hanging up without actually talking to her?

  Yeah. I stepped in it.

  “I—” I start to apologize, my fingers finally finding the switch. But there’s a completely unexpected metallic rasp, a spark, and then the glow of a small orange flame across the room, jolting me and making me forget my words. I shriek at the realization that I’m not alone in the room, and then my fingers reconnect with the light switch.

  I turn the lights on to discover, to my horror, Miss Black perched on a small sofa, lighting a cigarette. Two of her goons—one I know is named Gabe, the other I’ve never seen before—stand with their arms crossed behind her.

  She waves a finger to tell me to hang up the phone.

  “I have to go now, Mama.” I speak over her protests. “We’ll talk soon.” And then I hang up and face the woman who I have no concrete reason to be scared of... and yet I am.

  “Shut the door, Miss Daniels.” There’s not even a shred of emotion in Black’s voice. None on her face either, as she draws from the cigarette and studies me with deadly calm.

  “What are you doing here?” My voice is surprisingly steady. My fingers clench around Amy’s phone, which I understand quickly enough, I was never intended to use.

  Amy set me up. She found out about my job with Miss Black somehow, and used it as a way to get me out of Adam’s life.

  And if Miss Black has come all the way to Palm Beach to see me, then I’ve somehow managed to step in deep shit.

  “It seems that Mr. Thomas suffered an unfortunate accident while on your date.” Miss Black idly brushes a hand over the thigh of her tight black skirt, but it’s as though she’s moving just to remember that she’s human, not a vampire. “And it seems you also didn’t follow through with the terms of your contract. He now refuses to pay. That’s a problem, Miss Daniels.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Harsher words come to mind, but I know enough about this woman to tread carefully. “He tried to rape me! He pretended I was someone else!”

  At the mention of the other woman who Henry Thomas wanted me to play for him—what was her name again? Anna? Adele?—Black’s expression is thunderous, but just for a second. She smoothes it out quickly, smiling in a way that makes me wish she wouldn’t.

  “Mr. Thomas has been dealt with.” This makes my heart thunder. What does that mean, exactly? “However, you have now cost me nearly eight thousand dollars. And when it comes to money, Miss Daniels, I’m afraid I don’t have much patience.”

  My pulse is skittering in my veins with nerves. Eight thousand dollars? I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much money in my life. How could I possibly owe her that much? Miss Black pays her girls well, but that’s sure a lot more than I was expecting from the date.

  “Doesn’t Adam’s payment cover that?” I wince—I don’t like the reminder that, at the end of the day, I’m a paid companion for the man I’m falling for.

  My pride insists that I should pay him back, but even if Mama has in fact put all the money back in my account, the idea of just dishing out eight thousand dollars is as laughable as the notion of Miss Black actually caring about whether Henry Thomas hurt me or not.

  “Oh, you naive little thing. You’ve gone and fallen for him.” She tsks and drops the cigarette to the floor, grinding it to ash beneath the sole of her pump. “It’s a mistake so many of us make, we who usually keep others at arm’s length.” My jaw clenches as I look into the dark, blank eyes of the woman in front of me—I can’t help but shudder. I don’t like her implication, that she and I are somehow the same.

  I can’t imagine how she ended up like this, a calculating madam with no conscience. She couldn’t have been born that way.

  But she’s painted the picture in my head, the one that shows me my future, without Adam... without any love, because I’ve shoved everyone away, just so I don’t get hurt.

  I ignore her, plowing on. “So I wound up with Adam instead of Henry. You couldn’t find someone for Ad
am anyway. The only difference is that you get paid from one person instead of the other. We should be even.”

  Miss Black eyes me coolly, and I find myself short of breath in the face of that kind of soullessness.

  “It doesn’t work like that, my dear. I thought you were smarter than this, but it seems I’ll have to explain.” She pats the seat of the couch beside her, gesturing me to sit next to her. It’s almost impossible to make my legs carry me over, but I don’t want to agitate her more than I have to.

  “There’s only one thing that upsets me more than losing money, Miss Daniels. Do you know what that is?”

  I hate her tone, the condescension dripping from it. It’s a whisper from my past, the way kids at school would look at me and my hand me down clothes and trailer park address and would treat me like shit.

  But bottom line... I want to get out of here in one piece. I want to quit. I don’t know what I’ll do to make ends meet, but the thought of touching another man after Adam makes me physically ill.

  “No, Miss Black.” I force the words out from between clenched teeth.

  “Disrespect.” She spits out the word like it’s full of venom, her gaze searching for and holding mine. “You’re so young, you won’t understand, not yet. But when I tell someone no, I expect them to listen, not to throw extra money at me and then do as they please. Especially since I was kind enough to try to oblige them in the first place.”

  Her gaze holds mock pity as I stiffen, realizing what she just said.

  “That’s right, my dear. He didn’t actually clear it with me. He wired me money and said he was taking you, never giving you a chance to sign a contract or have a say. I am surprised that you didn’t notice the lack of contract...”

  Oh my fucking God. How stupid am I? And yet... I’m kind of touched that he was so determined to have me with him that even Miss Black couldn’t scare him away.

  It may not last, true enough... but I’ve never been that important to anyone. Not ever.

  “But looking at him, I understand why. Dazzling people is what he does, Carly. He’s made a fortune off of it. But real relationships? He doesn’t do them. Look at his track record; he’s never been with anyone more than a month. Why else would he have come to me, other than the fact that it’s discreet and easy, with no strings attached?”