by D. C. Stone
“Mom!”
“Put the fucking phone down, bitch. You want to call out, I’ll give you something to call for.”
“Hailey!” Brooke screamed.
“Mom!”
The cell left her hand and Dwayne brought it up to his ear, a murderous look darkening his features. “Hailey?”
He glanced down at her, brows drawn together, sadness in his eyes. The device clicked shut a moment later and he sighed. “Fuck! They hung up.”
“No!” She fisted her hands and pounded against his chest, tears leaking down her face, dropping from her chin. “No, get her back. Get her back, now!” Pressure built in her throat, then broke free and sailed out as a sob. The sweet sound of her daughter still filled her head but combined with it was fear. The terrified voice was so far off from Hailey, was one she almost didn’t recognize.
Dwayne stilled her hands, brought her up against his chest and pressed a large palm to the back of her head.
“Please, go get her,” she pleaded.
“I will, sweetheart. I promise you, I will.”
She sobbed. Pain pierced through her chest, the helplessness of being unable to protect her daughter scraping her throat raw. She didn’t know how long she stood like that, held in his strong, warm arms. But after some time she recognized the steady beat of his pulse beneath her ear. He took her face in his hands and wiped at the wetness on her cheeks with his thumbs. His stare pierced straight through her.
“I’m going to take a quick shower and see about heading over to the club. I don’t know what will happen, but if anything, at least I’ll have a heads-up on the layout. I need you to stay here, and stay in this room. Do you understand me?”
She shook her head. “No, take me with you. I can help.”
He dropped his head to hers. His face crumpled in agony. “I won’t take that chance.” He gave her shoulders a quick squeeze and pulled away, walked over to his bag and began to go through it, then pulled out a dark shirt and black jeans.
“If I take you with me we run into several problems. One, you look so much like Hailey, or rather she like you, that anyone will grow suspicious as soon as you walk in. If they are suspicious, we won’t get anywhere and the entire plan any of us come up with will more than likely go down the drain.”
He stood and faced her, clothes held in hand. His words made sense, she understood that, but her heart cried out for Hailey.
“Two, if I take you in there, I will be more worried about watching out for you than anything else. I won’t be able to concentrate.” He shook his head, his next words spoken with more authority. “No, I need you to stay here. Please, Brooke. This is one of those times I need you to trust me.”
She didn’t like the idea of staying back and fought the urge to demand he take her. To tell him she would go whether he brought her along or not. Instead, she held her tongue. “What will you do?”
He shrugged, dropped his gaze from hers, and moved for the bathroom. “Look around, see how far back I can get.”
“What do you mean, how far back?”
He stopped at the door, the muscles in his body rigid. “I’ve explained a few things to you already, right?”
She nodded.
“So you know what happens in this club, right?”
She nodded again, and her eyes stung with tears. The look on his face shredded her heart.
“I need to get behind the scenes,” he stated.
She frowned, his words not making sense. He wasn’t telling her something…
“Behind the scenes? Dwayne, you’re talking in circles. Stop shutting me out. Talk to me.”
“Christ!” he barked and whirled around. She took a step back at the expression on his face. No longer was he the charming man women of Nyack couldn’t stay away from, nor was he the childhood friend who had laughed and played with her for hours. Instead, disgust, fury, and a bit of anger etched his features as if it pained him to contemplate, much less speak what he said next.
“What do you think?” he asked through clenched teeth. “I’m going to have to pretend that I’m there to get in bed with little girls. I have no clue what I’m going to have to do, how far I’m going to have to go. I’m out on my own here, and I’m putting together ideas as I go along. I’ll have to play the part of the scumbags whose faces I want to beat in, the very ones who are probably trying to get to—”
He snapped his jaw shut but she couldn’t mistake what he had been about to say.
“To Hailey, is that what you were going to say?” she asked.
His features softened and he dropped his shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I’m not too keen on doing this, pretending to be this type of guy.”
She swallowed, forcing the lump in her throat down. To consider what Hailey was going through…
“I know, and I’m sorry to ask you to do this. If I could go to anyone else, I would.”
His lips thinned. He took a step toward her and dropped his head until it was inches from hers.
“You’re going to stop that line of thinking, right now. Hailey is important to me, too, dammit. I would do this even if you didn’t ask me.”
She sighed and he spoke again.
“Do you ever consider that maybe these men have more in common with me than anyone else?” he asked, drawing up to his full height and rubbing at his eyes. He looked exhausted, defeated, and worn down.
Her frown grew. “They are nothing like you,” she stated, meaning it.
He cut her off with a quick hand through the air. “My mother brought men identical to these assholes home. All the time. Men who wanted to tie her up and do things,” he spat the word, “with her, to her. I was forced to watch all the cruel disgusting acts. And when they would start beating on her, I tried to force myself between them. Only after my arm was broken by her pimp, did I learn my lesson and stay far away, helpless and too fucking small to do anything but pay witness.”
She stared, understanding dawning. “Dwayne…”
Pain crossed his features before he pivoted away but didn’t move far. “Forget it. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
They stood, silent and caught in their own thoughts for several moments.
“If this is too much to ask…”
He sighed. Loud. But still he kept his back to her.
“Like I said, I’d do it anyways. This won’t be a proud moment, this pretending to want things from these women. These girls,” he corrected. “Damn it,” he muttered, his voice smaller than she’d ever heard before. Her heart went out to him. This proud, brave man.
“So you’ll get close to them? You said it would be hard to get behind the scenes. Do you think these girls will be in the main part of the club?” she asked.
“No, these will be regular females, strippers, hookers, escorts. They’ll feel me out before taking it to the next step.”
“How do you know that?” she asked.
He shook his head and didn’t answer.
“What’s the next step?” She shifted, stepped to his side, and looked up. Disgust, whether at himself or what he had to do, displayed across his face like camo paint.
“Sex.”
That made her brows rise. “You’ll have sex with them? Tonight?” She fought the uneasy feeling, pushed down on the swirling sensation in her stomach.
He snapped his gaze to hers. “No,” he said with a harsh voice. “But I will have to lead them on to believe that I want to. You understand this is a role, right? That I want no part of these women?”
She shrugged and turned away. Feelings she didn’t realize she had, more questions than she wanted answered pounded into her mind, comparable to a sledgehammer on the streets of New York City.
“You can do whatever you like. We’ve discussed this. I have no claim on you. I just don’t want you to do something you don’t want to.”
You are such a liar, girl.
He snorted behind her, the sound unpleasant. “Look at me, Brooke.”
She faced him, slowly lifti
ng her gaze to his. Features strained, his body shaking with unspent emotion of some sort, he held her stare.
“You keep telling yourself that. The no claim comment. Here’s what I’m going to say to you, and this will be the last goddamn time I say it.
“I care for you. I feel things I’ve never felt for another. I have now for a very long time. If you want to keep tossing my words, my actions, on the ground, please do me the favor and just stop. I can take rejection, Brooke. Believe it or not, it has happened before. However, what I will not do is not be given one ounce of a thought toward any chance and then have it thrown in my face.
“You may not feel you have a claim on me, but I think that’s bullshit. I more than recognize your claim and choose to honor it. If I could stay here and simply hold you, I’d be a happier man than taking any or all of those women in the club to bed. It’s you I want to be with, not them. But right now, with how you keep shitting on me, I imagine I’d find more warmth in the arms of a hooker.”
She gasped, his words like a slap.
He winced, shook his head, and turned, muttering, “Forget it.” The bathroom door slammed behind him.
Brooke stared at the wood panel in shock. His words struck a chord inside. Had she treated him the way he said? She tried to remember everything, to piece together the actions with the man she knew, the one who switched beds faster than anyone else. None of it made sense. If he cared for her for so long, why now? Why hadn’t he said anything before?
Dwayne had always been there for her. He came when she called, didn’t ask questions and at times, dropped everything…for her. Did she take advantage of his friendship? Had she recognized his feelings before now and used it against him?
More so, how did she feel? She cared for him, yes. Her attraction was no surprise or even under question. Just looking at him, being near him and smelling his unique scent had her heating with sexual awareness. And when he watched at her, the fire in his eyes more than spoke of what they could generate.
She dropped to the bed and stared ahead, her mind torn between her daughter, what she wanted from Dwayne, and what she could give.
If she had no claim on him, then why did the thought of any woman other than her touching him bring such a tight pain to her chest?
Chapter Nineteen
Music pulsed through the speakers at a rate double his heartbeat. Bass vibrated through Dwayne’s chest, giving him the feeling of free falling off a cliff. He scanned the room, looked past the crowds who danced in the center, beyond the workers, the girls, and the mean-looking guards standing in the back.
The room’s black walls had LED decals twirling in unusual shapes and different drawn faces that changed colors from orange, to a vivid blue, starched violet, lemony yellow. In the back corners, women danced on raised platforms, wearing no more than floss and small stickers to cover their assets. Two more erotic dancers caged the bar in at the sides, seeming to catch the eye of any one that passed, and then moved for just him alone, as if they were the last man on earth.
He made his way to the blood-red satin lined bar, leather stools spread at intervals alongside. The bodies packed into the club brought the temperature to the triple digits. But despite that, the bar was devoid of people. He caught the glow of a necklace as a bikini clad brunette passed him carrying a tray full of tube shots. Another crossed his path, her load consisting of plastic cups of amber beer.
At the bar, he slid into a seat at the end, keeping his back to the stripper. There were many threats around him, men walking around with bulges sticking out from beneath their shirt, a shape no one could mistake for anything other than a weapon. A few beefy-looking women were walking around with the same. Then you had the cameras installed in the ceiling, watching everyone and anything that moved. Considering the stripper behind him didn’t wear enough clothing to conceal anything, she was the least of his worries. In a club like this, selling goods as they did, he would not have to wait long to be approached.
And he wasn’t wrong.
After a few minutes, a dark-skinned man greeted him from behind the bar. The bartender had deep, chocolate-brown eyes, a wide nose, trim goatee, and thick arms, perhaps wider than his thigh. A black t-shirt screamed for mercy across a chest he figured he’d need a climbing harness—or an ATV—to hike over.
“What can I get you?” the mountain of a guy asked.
Dwayne skimmed over the line of taps and each label. “I’ll take your best on tap.”
Mr. Mountain nodded, retrieved the drink and set it in front of him. He took a red bar cloth from the back of his jeans and wiped his hands, but his attention remained on Dwayne.
He recognized what the guy was doing: measuring him up, determining the threat, gathering information for no doubt who watched from behind the camera. He didn’t blame him, would do it himself if the situation were reversed. However, the thing was, it would never be that way, because he fought for the right side of the law. Coming in here to play, pretend and schmooze with scum was not something he looked forward to, but it was necessary.
He met the man’s stare. “Can I help you with something?” He had to speak slightly louder than normal, but for some reason the sound level around the bar seemed muted.
Again, with those brows. They popped up in surprise, and it looked as if the guy wore caterpillars above his eyes. He really should talk to the dude about some manscaping.
“Shouldn’t that be my line?” Mountain asked.
Dwayne shrugged, took a gulp of his drink.
“Haven’t seen you around here before. From out of town?”
He held his gaze. Mountain’s eyes were intense and full of questions, but Dwayne refused to back down or give him specific answers. “You could say that.”
“I could…but how about I ask where you’re from instead?”
Hell…damn nosy bartender. “New York,” Dwayne answered.
“Long way from home. What brought you up this way?”
He took another drink, then made a quick look at the mirror behind the bar. He didn’t doubt it was a two-way glass. Only question was, what—or who—was on the other side?
“Was in the mood to switch things up a bit. Get a taste for something fresh,” he lied.
You’re a goddamn piece of work, Gonzalez. Feeling good about yourself now?
No, no he wasn’t.
“Fresh, huh?” The bartender leaned forward and set heavy arms on top of the wood, scanning the crowd, but Dwayne wasn’t fooled. This guy’s attention centered on him and only him.
Dwayne took the opportunity and turned to the side for a better view. Having people at his back made his neck itch, his shoulders twitch, and his cop instincts scream.
“We’ve got a whole batch of fresh meat for you here. All different flavors. Perhaps you might want to take a look around?”
He made a point to look at each of the dancer platforms. Let his gaze pause on each woman, brought his reactions of disapproval, minimal interest to his face as he passed each one. “Eh, I’m looking for something a bit more tender. Something new, not all that experienced.”
“I could put in a good word, for the right amount, that is, and get you some time with a few that would treat you real nice.”
He lifted his brows, allowing the interest to show. Eyeing Mountain over the rim of his mug, he gave a distinct, minute nod. He brought the glass down, reached into his side pocket and drew out a wallet. Lesson number one: When going into a strange or crowded place, never carry your shit in your back pocket. All it takes is a female to move close and half your life, along with your cash, would disappear.
He tossed a Benjamin on the counter. “Make sure she’s impressionable, if you catch my drift.”
You are full of it tonight, dude. Look at you!
The guy nodded, stepped away and picked up a black phone, eyeing Dwayne over his shoulder. The camera above moved and focused on him.
Oh hell, this was going to happen. He needed to keep his head together, his senses up, a
nd an eye out for Hailey. Trying to act on anything tonight would get him a lot of lead and empty air.
Keep your cool, stay calm. Play the part. Forget you’re a detective.
A tall and skinny white male, bald-headed, same goatee as the bartender stepped up to his side. “I hear you’re in the market for a good time.”
Dwayne skimmed the guy’s attire. Another black shirt, this one long-sleeved, matching jeans, and dark black boots screamed security. He couldn’t hesitate but had to give the impression he was willing to be meticulous and wait. “I like my meals crisp, fresh.”
The man stared, unflinching, doing the same as the bartender did earlier. “Going to run you three c-notes tonight. Another four tomorrow if you make it past this first part and want to dive a little…deeper.”
Three hundred dollars? Christ. No wonder these people had resources at their disposal. He nodded and passed over the money like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Pleasure doing business with you. This way.”
Dwayne tossed back the rest of his beer and stood to follow. It wasn’t hard to keep an eye on the guy. He towered over the crowd, the giant mounted like a sore thumb with his bald head.
Surprise skittered through him at just how easy this was, getting back behind the scenes. If it could be so simple, the hope that they’d find Hailey soon could flame. As it was, he pushed down on that thought and added some patience. They’d know soon enough.
He shoved his way through the crowd, receiving more than one suggestion from both genders, seductive glances from almost everyone, and by the time he reached the back wall, he felt more than a little violated.
Suck it up, chump. This is for Hailey.
Instead of going through the heavily guarded area he’d spotted when he first walked in, they veered off to the left and pushed through a curtain of midnight softness. The music from the club muted, and lenient lights skimmed over individual corners of the room, velvet l-shaped couches spread throughout. In the back corner, a woman danced for a man, her bare breasts swaying with seduction. The man had a head full of gray hair, his back to Dwayne.