by Debra Kayn
She grabbed his wrist and squeezed. Hell, she'd changed the playing field and had him glad to get more time with her.
"Thank you," she mouthed.
He watched her lips. No sound came out of her mouth. Maybe she asked the impossible. If she couldn't talk, how could she whistle? How would he teach her something that most children learned on their own?
"Okay. Yeah." He stepped away and peered over the railing. "Tomorrow night."
Madison smiled, nodding enthusiastically.
He stilled with one leg over the railing. His gut tightened, and he swallowed down the back and forth emotions she caused him. "Sweetheart, a smile is payment enough."
Her expression changed, and he caught the solemnness of her mood before she looked away. He climbed over the edge and slowly lowered himself until his boots hit the seat of his Harley and he jumped to the ground.
For a prostitute, she sure was leery.
The roar of his motorcycle put him back in his world where he had no time to entertain a woman and pretend Madison's lack of communication meant she accepted his lifestyle or him. She wanted something from him.
A simple lesson.
He rode to the back of the Sterling Building and parked. Jeremy stood at the back door. Bear cut the engine.
"Where have you been?" asked Jeremy.
"Around." Bear walked over to the building. "What's up?"
Jeremy filled his lip with chew and widened his stance. "Thought I'd remind you the Moroad women are at your disposal. Stay away from the ladies upstairs."
If Jeremy expected Bear to take the warning and run, his president underestimated him. For the last three nights, he had no doubt Jeremy knew exactly what he was doing. Nothing got past his president. He kept close tabs on all the members and his properties.
Why wait now to warn him away from Madison?
"Is that an order?" asked Bear.
Jeremy spat on the ground between his boots. "Moroad has never stepped between a member and any woman that came into their life."
"Yet, you're standing out here bringing up Madison, so there has to be a reason. Is Tiff saying something?" Bear hooked his fingers in the front pockets of his jeans.
Jeremy's woman had rules set in place and from an outside observer, the restrictions made sense. The fewer people who knew about the Red Light business, the safer everyone he cared about remained. The ramifications of the Feds finding out about an illegal business in Federal would bring everyone down connected with Moroad. With his rap sheet, Bear would find himself in the next cell along with all his MC brothers.
Guilty by association.
Jeremy shook his head. "Not yet, but it won't be long until she finds out and there will be repercussions for any lady who breaks her rules. They're not prisoners, and Moroad knows what goes on here. I'm not going to stop you, but keep it to the balcony and watch your back. I don't need the other ladies thinking they can hang out of their rooms and attract the attention of every fucking man in town."
Bear grunted in understanding.
"They're women, Bear. Respect that, huh?" Jeremy clamped his hand down on Bear's shoulder.
Bear shrugged him off. The music stopped for the night. The Moroad women would come through the door soon, and he'd escort them home. As far as he was concerned, the conversation with Jeremy was over. Whether he decided to come back and visit Madison again was nobody's business but his own.
He walked over to his Harley to wait. If Jeremy believed he'd step over the line regarding a woman and disrespect her, he'd end up popping his president in the face.
Chapter Five
Four.
Five.
Six.
Madison bobbed her head, sucking on the latex rubber of the condom stretched over the cock of her last customer of the night.
Seven.
Eight.
The man's hand landed on the top of her head. She sucked harder on reflex, preferring to get the man off fast rather than have him touch her.
Nine.
Pressure on her head occupied a deep groan. She loosened her jaw and pushed up from her kneeling position. Her lips numb, she grabbed the wastebasket and held it out to the customer.
A knock followed by the door opening signaled the end of her work day. She nodded to Tiff and the moment the customer left her room, she escaped into the bathroom to brush her teeth, shower and slip into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.
She wasted no time. Tonight, Bear would teach her how to whistle, and she wanted to make sure she arrived outside on the balcony the moment Silver Girls opened downstairs.
After spending years knowing she'd never speak a word or even a noise because of the scarring on her vocal cords, she held hope that blowing air between her lips would produce a sound. A wonderful and pleasant melody she could enjoy by herself that others couldn't take from her.
She'd studied Bear as he'd entertained her with his talent. For the first time, she noticed how the sound of his whistling had nothing to do with his throat. Something her doctor would've told her as a child if her mother had taken her to her therapy lessons and attempted to fix the damage her mom's boyfriend caused.
Slipping her phone into one back pocket and her notepad and pen in her other pocket, she went out to the kitchen. The ladies hadn't arrived, and only Tiff and Marci occupied the room.
"Hey, Madison." Tiff held up a bag. "Burgers, Jojos, and a handful of napkins. The others are eating up on the roof. You can join them if you'd like."
Madison nodded and retrieved her sack dinner.
"Oh, and you have the first doctor's appointment at seven o'clock. The doctor opens the clinic before his regular patients start coming in strictly for you ladies. I'll let you get up on your own, but if I don't hear movement by six thirty, I'll be knocking at your door." Tiff grinned.
Madison held up her thumb in reply. She hated getting up early, so she'd need to set the alarm on her phone to wake her.
Tiff snapped her fingers. "I almost forgot. I told the other ladies that there were more KY Jelly tubes in the bottom cabinet in each bathroom, along with extra condoms, and everything else you would need for work. I stocked everything before your arrival, but if you need a different brand of shampoo or laundry soap write it down and Marci will get whatever you need tomorrow when she runs errands in the afternoon."
Madison nodded, held up the bag pointing at the door, and walked up on the roof until she could slip away to meet Bear. Socializing with the other ladies from the Network would stop any curious questions if they noticed she spent too many nights by herself.
Up on the roof, Aubrey waved her over to the two tables. Madison took a seat between Paige and Aubrey and then dug into her dinner.
"How many customers did you end up with today, Madison?" Sunny tore off the fried skin of her Jojo.
Madison held up seven fingers, then made a circle with her fingers and moved her hand back and forth in front of her mouth.
"How do you get all the easy blow jobs?" Sunny groaned. "My first customer asked for a Frenchie and straight, but I had to do some serious work for the last customer."
Madison raised her brows and grinned. At every bordello she'd worked at in the past, women preferred sucking a man off to sex. The act easier and less strenuous for almost the same amount of money full sex brought in.
"At least, the customers who come to Red Light are nice to look at. They're big, rough, and so far treat me like I'm going to break." Aubrey brushed the crumbs from her hands. "Have any of you worked in Oregon?"
"Oh, my God." Paige leaned forward and pointed at Aubrey. "Th-that underground place below the restaurant?"
"Yes." Aubrey wrinkled her nose. "Keep Portland Weird lived up to its slogan. The men were worse than the ones in Vegas."
"I liked Vegas when I was there. I worked there twice last year," added Sunny.
Madison removed her notepad and wrote. "How long have you been in the biz?"
"Three years," said Sunny, passing the note.
"No," mouthed Madison, writing again and pushing the paper to Aubrey. "How old are you?"
"Twenty-eight." Aubrey crumbled up her used napkin. "I know, I look younger than my age. I've got good genes. I'm going to get out of the Network when I'm thirty. Two more years and I'll settle down someplace and figure out what my next step will be."
"You'll turn into a cat lady." Sunny laughed and looked at Madison. "How old are you?"
She held up two fingers followed by four fingers. The last six years seemed to last a lifetime. She couldn't imagine selling sex for six more years. Though she had no idea what she'd do when the time came to quit the Network.
She'd tried waiting tables, serving drinks, and even worked in childcare before signing on with the Network. None of the jobs lasted long. Her employers always decided someone who talked and interacted with others fit in better with the customers.
Prostitution worked exactly like the Network promised her. Men flocked to her, preferring a woman who kept her mouth shut. In return, only the rare customer ever looked at her weird or demanded she answer them. When one of those situations happened, they believed she played a role and had no idea she was mute for real.
She preferred to keep her words to herself, except on paper or in a text.
Nobody questioned her if she lied when she wrote her words down, as if reading instead of listening meant she spoke the truth.
Madison finished almost her whole hamburger and all of her Jojo's by the time the music started for the Silver Girl dancers downstairs. She stood, ready to go back to her room to meet Bear.
"Wait." Aubrey leaned over the side of her chair and held up two bottles of beer. "Tiff gave us refreshments. Only two each, because she doesn't want us to get drunk. Though if you want to leave, I'll take your two beers."
Madison shook her head and held her hands out. Aubrey pouted and handed the beverages over.
With her drinks in one hand, she waved and walked back to the second level of the building, straight to her room, and through the sliding glass door. She put the drinks on the table, pulled out her phone, and sat down. There were no messages from Bear.
Alone, she pursed her lips, blew, and expelled nothing but air. She moved her lips and even rolled her tongue in an attempt to whistle. Bear made the sound look easy.
Through his bushy beard, he'd purse his lips with little effort. The sound he emitted smooth and clear, she couldn't even hear the air escape from his mouth. She could even put words to the tune he blew if she knew the song.
A man wandered into the alley. She leaned forward and studied him in the shadows. Smaller and slimmer than Bear, he continued past her balcony to the end of the building. Another man stepped out to greet him.
The two men moved together out of sight, and the rumble of motorcycles started, growing louder and then quieter the farther away they went until the music came back to keep her company. She gazed at her phone. Still no message from Bear.
An hour had passed and for the first time, she wondered if he'd changed his mind.
Disappointment came over her at the thought he'd choose not to come. She opened one of the beers she'd saved to share with Bear and stared out at the abandoned building across the alley. Why was she setting up hope with a man she knew nothing about and why now?
No matter where she worked or what state she stayed in, she enjoyed her free time by herself. After spending a childhood of hiding in her room and staying out of her mom's boyfriend's way, she learned early how to keep her mind active and boredom at bay.
She waited another hour and finally gave up. Bear wasn't coming.
He probably realized a woman—one who claimed to be running from an abused relationship—who wanted to learn how to whistle and refused to talk took up too much of his time.
He was a biker, who probably had a minimum wage job and preferred to spend his time at strip joints, throwing away his dollar bills and drinking cheap beer.
She opened the last bottle Aubrey gave her, and feeling rebellious, flipped the cap over the railing into the alley. Maybe she needed a nice long break from working.
She could take a mini vacation after her three months were over at Red Light. She had enough money in the bank for a quick stop away from others. Some rest somewhere warm around water would stop her from wishing things were different. Even a stay in a small cabin beside a lake would do the job. She'd have all the time she needed to teach herself to whistle.
The music shut off, and she waited for the next song to come, and when the night remained silent, she got up and walked into her room, locking the sliding glass door behind her. With two beers in her system, she'd fall asleep quickly. She had an early day tomorrow and after the doctor's appointment, she'd have the next two days off of work.
She'd use the down time to perk herself up and stop wishing for the impossible.
She walked over to set her phone on the nightstand when a message came through.
Bear: "Hey, sorry. I'll stop by tomorrow."
She opened the drawer to the nightstand and set the phone inside without replying. She came to Federal for three months to work in the bordello. It was time to get her head on straight and remember to stay focused. She had no room in her life to make friends or entertain the thought of getting to know a man who had to sneak around to see her.
Chapter Six
Three o'clock in the morning, Bear stood outside Madison's room on the balcony and tapped against the sliding door. He glanced down the alley, making sure nobody spotted him. He'd sunk to a new low. Here he was a grown-ass man, sneaking around in the middle of the night, looking for something he couldn't even describe.
If he were smart, he'd go back to the motel, curl around a warm body, and get the sleep his body craved after riding for the club earlier. In his life, he never made the right decision, preferring to do the wrong thing, the unlawful thing.
He'd thought about texting Madison and letting her know he'd be a no-show, and decided against talking to her. She'd question him on what and where he had to go, and he'd been on club business. Then on his way home, he'd pulled off the interstate and texted her. He'd waited around twenty minutes hoping for a fucking reply, and she never texted him back.
He tapped louder when the inside light came on, and the curtain parted.
Madison stood in front of the glass. Her hair tousled, and her brows pinched.
"Don't open the door." He held on to the handle. "You'll set off the alarm."
She held up her hand, questioning him on why he'd come over. He held up his phone and waved her away, hoping his basic motions would make sense to her. Now that he came, he realized anything he had to say could've waited until tomorrow.
He tapped out a message on his phone. "Go back to sleep. I'll leave."
Almost instantly, she replied. "What did you want? It's the middle of the night."
He had no fucking clue what to tell her. He exhaled loudly and typed the truth. "I wanted to see you."
"Now? I was sleeping."
He replied. "I'm not sorry I came. I got to see you."
"Are you being serious?"
He walked over and sat down in the chair. "Yeah."
The texts stopped. He set his phone on his thigh and latched his hands behind his head. Wide awake, he let the coolness of the night settle around him. He wasn't ready to let go of the day. In prison, he never missed the outside world with its chaos, changes, and rules, but he missed the nights. The clear air, the coolness, the dark. The quietness gave him time to think about what he wanted in his life and somehow, his thoughts were clearer when the world quieted. His dreams changed, his needs became less, and he'd convince himself to settle down and prepared himself to live the rest of his days alone.
His phone vibrated and the light on the screen came on. He held up the cell and read.
Madison: "Why are you still outside?"
He replied to the message. "Want to stay near you."
S
everal seconds ticked by, and she replied. "Bear, you know what I am, don't you?"
He never hesitated and typed out his answer. "You're a beautiful woman who caught me with a smile and for some reason, I've agreed to teach you how to whistle."
Madison: "Bear..."
His chest squeezed. When she refused to finish her text, he put the subject to rest with one sentence and hit send.
"Sweetheart, your job isn't who you are."
Chapter Seven
The stiff paper gown scratched Madison's skin. She wrapped her arms around her middle. The older doctor in Federal spent little time talking and gave a thorough examination for sexually transmitted diseases and general health.
The safeguard for the ladies at Red Light seemed overkill considering she always had the customer wear a condom. House rules at every bordello kept the men from touching her. Hands on hips, the occasional hand in her hair, and the rubbing of thighs and hips were the only touching allowed. Mouth to breasts was forbidden. Mouth to mouth had no place in quick sex. Hands to breasts were against the rules.
While the guidelines protected the women, the customers preferred to keep things impersonal. In her opinion, the men came back for business because sex with a stranger excited them and wouldn't disrupt their life or require them to become emotionally invested.
In their minds, sex relieved stress from the emotional baggage they carried around from their job, their wife, and the restrictions put on them by society.
Dr. Brandof came back inside the room. "We'll have the results of your tests in two days before you are scheduled to go back to work. Your pregnancy test is negative."
Madison nodded. She understood the routine tests and the requirements to continue working. In all the years, she'd only known one woman who failed the tests. Later, she found out the woman had fallen in love with a customer and believed she could go without a condom. The poor girl believed the man when he confessed she was his first prostitute when in fact, the man told the same story to women in three different bordellos around three different states.
Some prostitutes let themselves believe they deserved better and fell for the lies men told them.
