by Evelyn Glass
“How will that work? They all know me as a cop, and as the toy you bought.” I scoffed, unable to keep my incredulity under wraps.
“It gives you a chance to see how they function up–close,” he replied patiently. “It’s not much, but at least it’s an in.”
“Fair enough,” I held my hands up. “But I’ll need something to wear.”
“Didn’t like other dress, huh?” he teased, and I almost hissed. “I’ll pick you something up later today, but we need to start on our game plan. Figure out what we’re going to go in there looking for.”
“Can I wake up a little first?” I protested his deluge of orders.
“I thought cops were meant to be good in the mornings,” he teased. “Oh, wait, you need a donut and a coffee first, don’t you?”
“I don’t need them, but if you’re offering…” I was starving again, and realized that I must have gone twenty–four hours or so without food before I got my hands on that takeout.
“There was some leftover Chinese. I put it in the fridge.” He gestured through the door that led to the kitchen and I managed to pull myself out of bed. My head was still pulsing with a little pain from the drugs, but I was feeling substantially better than I had the day before. Maybe that had more to do with the fact I knew I hadn’t been purchased to enter into sex slavery with a man who hated me, now that I actually thought about it. I grabbed myself a bowl of dry cereal– there was no milk in the apartment, unsurprisingly– and Breaker got dressed.
“What size are you?” He asked gruffly. I wanted to make a comment about the fact that he’d already seen enough of me to make an educated guess, but I knew that wasn’t going to get the two of us anywhere.
“Uh, small,” I replied.
“I’m going to go out and get you a dress now,” he went for the door. “But you’re…shit, just don’t go anywhere, right? If someone catches you running out of here, they’re going to put you right back out there and sell you again, and I don’t have another ten grand to keep you safe this time.”
“I won’t,” I threw back at him. “Oh, and I’ll need shoes, too.”
“Size?”
“Six and a half.”
“See you soon,” he went for the door, and I made my way over to the window to watch him wander down the street and towards the cheap clothes shops at the other end of the road. I had never had a man buy me clothes before– this would almost have been romantic, if it weren’t for, you know. All of it.
He arrived back a half–hour later, carrying a small bag. He tossed it in my direction and I opened it and looked inside.
I wrinkled my nose up when I saw what was in it.
“What? Is it the wrong size?” Breaker sighed, and I shook my head. I plucked at the fabric between my fingers, holding the dress up and peering at it, moving it back and forth in front of me.
“It’s just not really…uh, me,” I commented.
“Sorry, but you’re going to need to play the part if we want to find anything out,” he reminded me. “Come on, put it on. We should get there on time.” He paused, then grinned. “Think of it like going undercover.”
I resisted the urge to flip him off. “When does this thing start?”
“Soon,” he glanced at his watch. “Cops aren’t going to come bust places during the day so this is the safest time to do it.”
“Fair enough,” I muttered, making a mental note to pass this information on to my colleagues when I got of here. If I go out of here. I pushed the thought from my head at once, peeled off the clothes I had been wearing, and changed into the stuff Breaker had brought for me.
I didn’t have any make–up, but I did my best to clean myself up and look as presentable as possible. That was tough, considering what he’d gotten me to wear. The dress was short, hitting a few inches above my knee, and tight, hugging my hips and my waist all the way up to my chest. The straps were thick, and the dusky teal color suited my skin. I wondered how much time he’d spent picking this out, if he’d thought about how good it would look against my coloring. He’d probably just wanted me to look like the nicest eye candy in the room. I grabbed the heels he’d picked up—black, simple, and very, very high, and slipped into them. I was instantly reminded why I didn’t like to wear anything but the flats I wore on patrol, or the sneakers I used to go running in. I fluffed my hair, washed my face, and dabbed on some of his aftershave to cover up the smell of sleep and Chinese food that was clinging to me like nobody’s business. I looked in the mirror—not bad. I could pass for a trophy girlfriend in a pinch.
I made my way back outside, and Breaker’s jaw hung open as he looked at me. I stared back at him, tugging the hem down as far as I could.
“You look…” he trailed off, leaving the words unsaid. I didn’t want to hear the end to that sentence and I knew it.
“We should go,” he suggested, offering me an arm. I took it, stumbling forward slightly in my heels.
“Shit,” I muttered to myself. I wished I could wear something a little closer to the ground, but I remembered the way those women who’d been all over Breaker dressed, and I knew that heels were part of that uniform.
“I think we’re going to keep you away from the booze tonight,” Breaker remarked with amusement as I grabbed for his arm to make sure I didn’t tip over on the spot. I shot him a look, one that warned him that he was already pushing his luck and that he should play it very, very careful if he wanted to keep me on side. He held his hand up in apology.
“Sorry,” he grinned, and I could tell that he barely meant it. “Come on, let’s get going. It’s going to take us at least a half–hour to get you down those stairs, after all.”
He was right, the bastard. Eventually, I had to take off the heels and clutch them in my hands as I made my way down the steps, worried was I that I was going to tumble down and break my nose. How did other women do this? I had no clue—I would have to get someone to teach me, for the next time I needed to play at being a willing sex slave in order to take down a human trafficking cartel. Police work required skills that I hadn’t even thought of when I’d got into it, that was for sure.
When we arrived at the club, I was surprised to see that it was already buzzing with activity. I had assumed that a place like this would usually operate under the cover of darkness, but then, it wasn’t as though the criminal underworld had much of a schedule to keep. Breaker led me over to one of the tables at the other end of the room and sat me down, and I did my best to ignore the little looks I was getting from the rest of the clientele there. I was the only woman in the place, and the way they were looking at me made the hair on the back of my neck prickle with discomfort. I knew I shouldn’t have let them get to me…but damn.
“Stay here,” Breaker murmured. “I’ll be right back.”
He vanished in the direction of the bar, leaving me alone under the gloomy lights—and I found myself staring at the stage, reliving the moments I had spent up there and praying that I would be able to stop any other woman suffering the same fate.
Chapter Ten
The place was ripe with the smell of smoke and liquor, and I knew that I had to act as though I wanted a bit of both. I waved down the barman and acquired a couple of drinks—a scotch for me and a lemonade for her. She was already wobbling like a teenager in those ridiculous heels, and I didn’t want her broken ankle on my conscience.
But all sense of fun had vanished from the scenario now that we were in the club once again. I looked around as I waited to get served. No sign of Thaddeus anywhere, which gave us a chance to establish ourselves before he arrived. No doubt he’d be here—this place was his baby—and now I’d be able to surprise him with my presence instead of the other way around.
I felt a hand come down on my shoulder, and a little jolt of panic moved through my system before I turned and laid eyes on the auctioneer from the night before. He grinned at me, and then glanced over to where she was sitting. I had to admit, she looked pretty gorgeous. Her hair was fallin
g down her back in soft waves, skin smooth and glowing even in the dim light and without makeup. The dress suited her, and she was way hotter than either of the women who’d been attempting to chat me up the last time I was in here.
“You’ve got her looking good,” he commented, his hand still on my shoulder. Despite his friendly demeanor, I could tell that he was scouting me out. There was a searching look behind his eyes, just a hint, just enough for me to know that Thaddeus probably had something to do with this little encounter.
“Yeah,” I nodded noncommittally, plastering a smile on my face. “Thanks, man.”
“How’s she treating you?” He went on. “Putting up much of a fight?”
“Uh…”
“A cop like her, you know, I feel like you’d have to really beat her down to get her into all of it,” he continued enthusiastically, and I could tell that this line of conversation was all for him—the way his eyes lit up when he spoke told me that much. Jesus, what a creep. What kind of bastard auctioned off women like this, though? How often did he ‘sample the merchandise’?
“Trade secrets,” I replied. Maybe that would be enough to shut him up and get him out of my face.
“You’re a lucky man, my friend,” he shook his head. “A lucky man.”
“Sure,” I agreed, shooting the bartender a look that I hoped told him to hurry the hell up with my drink already. I wanted out of this conversation—even being part of it made me feel dirty. The auctioneer shook his head, the grin never leaving his face.
“You still got her drugged up?” He leaned so close that I could smell his foul breath on my face. I jerked my head back without thinking on how rude that would come across, and managed to plaster a grin on my face. They needed me to think I was on their side, after all, and I couldn’t do that if I was acting too protective of her.
“Sure thing, man,” I nodded. “She probably doesn’t even know where she is right now.”
“What have you got her on? We usually keep—“ He went to continue, but as soon as I was about to pick up some information that might actually have come in handy, he fell silent. He was looking over my shoulder, and I twisted around to see what had caught his eye— of course. Thaddeus.
The smile solidified to a rictus grin on my face as he approached. He held his hand out to me, and I took it. We eyed each other for a moment before he spoke, and I could tell he was still trying to get the measure of me.
“Good to see you again,” he remarked. “I see you’ve got her in hand.”
“Did she give you trouble when you picked her up?” I asked. Maybe I could figure out where they’d gotten her from—if I could work that out, maybe we could head down there and try and intervene in another kidnapping. I didn’t want to spend a whole day lurking around this place for nothing, that was for sure. The smell of smoke and booze was already choking me, and I was dreaming about the docile, clean apartment upstairs and the warm bed I could be in right now. With her, my brain added before I had a chance to stop it. I shook the thought from my head and cocked my head at Thaddeus in faux–interest while I waited for him to answer.
“What the fuck do you think, she’s fucking a cop,” he snapped back, his tone so harsh that the auctioneer next to me jumped a little in surprise. Shit. How bad had it been that he was this thrown just by me bringing it up? The bartender arrived back, but instead of handing me my drinks, he passed a glass of whisky to Thaddeus. He shot me an apologetic look, and I managed a smile in response. He was just doing his job; if he had served me before the boss, there would have been hell to pay.
“I guess so,” I nodded, trying to keep my voice neutral. I glanced back over at Angel, and saw that a man had approached her in the time that I’d been away. At that moment, the bartender handed me my drinks, and I bowed my head to Thad and the auctioneer.
“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” I nodded towards Angel, and backed away quickly, putting space between us. I hated them—both of them. They had both been involved in this, and they were probably going to be out of the street tonight, picking up another hapless woman who had no idea what was in store for her. Maybe they were in the building right now. Angel had mentioned something about being held in a cell backstage before I laid eyes on her. I shivered at the thought of all those women I couldn’t see, the ones who were so close but so far away. It was an ugly image.
I arrived back at the table, and leaned casually on the chair; the man who had been talking to Angel looked me up and down and raised his eyebrows as I handed her the lemonade.
“You were here the other night,” he remarked. “Playing cards, right?”
“Yep,” I confirmed. “That’s what I’ll be doing tonight, as well.”
“You should put her up as collateral,” he remarked, eyeing Angel hungrily. She was pretty much the only woman at the bar, so I wasn’t surprised that she was getting as much attention as she was, plus people seemed pretty into the fact that she was a cop.
“Think I’d let anyone else put their hands on this,” I replied, putting a protective hand on her. She didn’t pull away; it must have been a monumental effort not to, even just on instinct.
“Suit yourself.” He gave her another look, and moved away again. I took my seat next to her and she peered up at me, taking a sip of her drink.
“Are they here?”
“Who?”
“That…the boss guy, you know,” she waved her hand vaguely.
“Thaddeus is here,” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no–one was listening to us. “But he thinks you’re drugged–up right now.”
“Huh?” She wrinkled her nose up.
“They think that’s how I got you so calm, and that’s what we’re sticking too,” I told her. “Don’t get too clever. I don’t want them figuring anything out.”
“Fine,” she nodded calmly. She had probably done scarier shit than this in her line of work, though I couldn’t think of much more unnerving than having to play it cool around someone like Thaddeus.
“Did you get any information, at least?” She asked, catching the straw to her lemonade between her teeth and taking another sip.
“Nothing yet, but I’m trying,” I promised. Suddenly, there was a noise from behind me, and I turned around in my seat. The auctioneer was hustling people towards another room, and waved me over to join them. I grabbed Angel’s hand and pulled her to her feet, and she followed behind me quickly.
“What should I do?” Her voice hissed in my ear as we made it through the door.
“Just play it cool,” I replied as quietly as I could, and took my seat at the table. There were maybe a dozen men in the room, no women, and all of them gave Angel a cursory once–over as soon as she entered. She seemed to realize that there wasn’t a seat for her, and frowned for a moment before I quickly pulled her on to my lap. She perched there docilely, putting one arm loosely around my shoulders. A couple of the guys cocked eyebrows or otherwise expressed their amusement, and she tensed slightly. I could tell she didn’t like being the center of attention this way, and I couldn’t exactly blame her.
“Shall we begin?” The auctioneer asked, before laying out the house rules. It was a pretty standard game, but I felt my guard going up despite the fact that I couldn’t see anything amiss. All of this felt like a test, especially considering the fact I’d cleaned them out last time I’d played. Maybe they were making sure that I was keeping Angel in hand, or maybe this was some way for them to exert their power over me. I couldn’t tell, and that was making me nervous. I glanced around the table as the dealer dealt for the first time. There was no–one here I recognized, which was probably a good thing. It meant that no–one knew me, knew of my reputation. I grabbed my cards from the table and tossed back my drink; okay, let’s do this. Just another normal day playing cards with some fine upstanding gentlemen. No different than every other time I’d done it. I just had to keep my cool, and pray that nothing happened to give the game away.
Chapter Eleven
O
ne thing was for sure; Breaker was very, very good at cards. I watched the way his eyes darted around the table, taking in the minutest reactions of the players around him. He kept his drinking to a minimum while the rest of them got hammered, and before I knew it, he was sitting with a decent pile of cash in front of him like it was nothing at all. I found myself tightening my grip on him protectively as I saw the way the rest of them were looking at him. They were suspicious, thinking he was counting cards or cheating in some way. I was glad to be on his lap, glad I had him between me and the rest of the people in the room.
I recognized one or two of them, but that was no surprise—the walls of the station were usually plastered with the faces of guys we were attempting to take down, and I was certain that at least a couple of the men I was with tonight had been arrested at some point. I did my best to commit their faces to memory, my eyes flicking around the room as I tried to figure out where I’d seen them before. I made internal notes of their distinguishing features and of what they called each other, hoping that it might come in handy if I needed to identify any of them again.
