Brody

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Brody Page 11

by Victoria H. Smith


  “I hope you find her. I truly do.”

  I went to hang up, but then I heard her voice in the receiver so I quickly pulled it back. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

  “I just mentioned that she fits the profile.”

  I frowned, setting my arm on the wheel. “For what exactly, ma’am?”

  “A few blocks from here, there’s a heavy presence. Prostitution.”

  She said the words and the world spun, collided. She wouldn’t, would she?

  But she nearly had before.

  “That’s why men, pimps, set up shop nearby our facility. They recruit runaways. We’re constantly sending the police that way, but it’s hard for them to control.”

  Well, I knew the police, too. I got them on the phone after I hung up with the woman at the shelter. I explained my situation to my guys on the force, where Alex could currently be and what they might have to deal with because of it. They headed that way, telling me to wait before I did the same. Because if I did and I saw her… if someone had taken advantage of how vulnerable she was…

  “We’re here, Brody,” Chad said in my ear. It was a good thing he called. I maybe had a minute left before I did something myself. “It’s a real problem area,” he continued. “And of course, they all scattered when we got here, but we managed to talk to a couple girls.”

  My breath was with one of my old friends. My last breath.

  “Your girl is working on ninth,” he said. “At Tunnel Vision.”

  Tunnel Vision… and then it all settled in. It hit hard. Alex was dancing, but not the type I’d seen at the park that day.

  She was stripping.

  *

  I’d been to Tunnel Vision a few times, bachelor parties and whatever. And I guess if I was being real, a lonely night or two. The difference was I never knew someone dancing there. It made me sick knowing I’d gone in the past now for entertainment.

  “You want us to come down?” Chad asked on the phone. “For back up?”

  I wanted to do this myself, find her, and make her safe again. She should have always been safe and would be as long as she wanted that. I wouldn’t leave her again as long as she needed that from me. Chad and my other friend, Brian, said I could head over as long as I didn’t plan on making any trouble. Those folks ran an honest business and they didn’t want me in there tearing it up and causing problems—Chad’s words not mine. I had no plans to make any trouble and they’d have no problems with me.

  As long as they didn’t stand in my way.

  Keeping my promise, I left my gun in my truck under the seat. I really didn’t want any trouble. I just wanted Alex.

  I wanted her so bad.

  Neon lights greeted my way, Tunnel Vision’s marquee letting me know I was at the right place. I’d come here before but it wasn’t like the bouncers knew my name or something. I waited at the door and paid my cover like anyone else, then went inside.

  Smoke and sweat lined the air, burned my eyes a bit and clouded my lungs. The ambience of places like this was always the same. I didn’t let myself think about what else was wrapped up in that scent, that sweat, and made my way through the club. Girls in itty-bitty tops and guys downing the shots off the trays they held, blocked my way. I made it through them, declining drinks and girls offering their services with them. One grabbed my arm, hoping to get some money out of me in one of the private rooms in the back. I politely declined and kept moving. I scanned, searched, but I didn’t see a girl with nut brown eyes and a sparkle in them. Alex was tall, too, and that would set her apart, but nothing.

  “You seem like you’re looking for someone, big guy.”

  A girl in a hot pink wig got my attention, putting her hand on my shoulder. “Can I help you with that?”

  I really didn’t have time for this, but I didn’t want to put her off. I needed to know where Alex was and didn’t want to get myself kicked out before I could.

  I went to talk this one down as well when a name I wasn’t prepared to hear again met my ears. But then it all made sense. She said she was her alter ego.

  I understood why when I turned around and watched her dance. Alex swayed her hips, but she wasn’t Alex here. She was Valentine. The announcer himself had called her in.

  She walked around a pole in thick, silver heels. The heels matched what were only flower-shaped pasties on her nipples, her breasts covered in nothing but a fishnet top that pulled down to her thighs and her silver thong left nothing to the imagination below. Her leg around the pole, she flipped, spinning on it. She’d definitely done this before.

  It was hard to watch, but not because I was disgusted. Her pupils dilated, she looked so empty, nothing behind her eyes with a twisted smile on her lips. She stumbled when she got off the pole and I knew she had something in her. I didn’t know if it was drugs or alcohol.

  I couldn’t move for some reason. I found it hard to put into action what my next move should be. But then she saw me. She saw me right there in front. Her moves went full stop and with the way she looked at me, fear and hope behind her eyes all at the same time, I didn’t stay put for long.

  Everything blurred as I approached the stage, grabbed her, and took her in my arms. I faintly heard the girl who spoke behind me, the one with the pink hair. She yelled at me, fists slamming into my arm, but she sounded quiet, far away. I couldn’t really hear clearly. I couldn’t see anything but Alex, Alex pretty much naked and broken in my arms.

  She pressed her face into my chest, rubbing, sighing, and everything was okay. Everything wasn’t so bad anymore.

  The fists in my arm became more prominent and somehow the girl in pink got through to me.

  “Let her go, you fucker!” she shrieked, pulling on my shirt. She yelled, frantic for help. I assumed from the bouncers. She shook me again, trying to get Alex out of my arms. “You put her down and get out of here, you sick fuck!”

  But I wouldn’t put her down. She was going with me, even if I had to fight my way out of here with her. I felt bad for the promise I made to my friends. I didn’t think I could keep that promise. From my peripheral, two large men in black came my way. They were fighting their way through the crowd that had gathered around Alex, me, and the girl in pink.

  She tugged at Alex’s arm this time, maybe thinking she could get more ground that way until her friends in black got to us. Alex lifted her head at the tug, but she didn’t look at her. She looked at me. She looked at me and smiled.

  “Brody…” she whispered, so faint. Then she said it again, “Brody.”

  And the girl let go of her, stepping back. She stepped back when Alex said my name and I was the one that smiled that time. It had only been a few days and I forgot what it felt like to hear my name on her lips, what it felt like to see her smile.

  I brushed a finger to her cheek, wanting nothing but to take her away.

  “Hey, darlin’,” I said to her and she lifted her head.

  That smile came back, her eyes closed. A warm sound hummed from her throat and she opened them. “I like when you call me that. I love it.”

  Her words squeezed my insides with the emotion in them.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you to put the girl down and leave.”

  I became aware of our audience again. The two bouncers and now a little guy between them. He was the one who spoke. Dressed in a nice shirt and tie, I assumed he was the owner. The girl in pink stood between them and me. This could go bad very quickly. But I wouldn’t be leaving without a fight, without Alex.

  I adjusted her, but didn’t put her down. “I have no problem leaving, but I’m not doing that without her. I know her and she’s coming with me.”

  This guy laughed, shaking his head. “Put her down or we’ll make you put her down.”

  I didn’t budge and I knew what would happen next. I could only hope they were prepared. I knew how to handle myself when it came to a fight. It wouldn’t be my first time being out numbered and my track record was pretty damn good. The guys
in black rushed me but the girl in pink held back the charge. Raising her hand, she stopped them, then put the other on Alex’s arm. She shook her. “Hey, baby girl. Is this your friend? The one you told me about?”

  My eyes widened that she mentioned me, but then again, I never really let her go either. Alex simply grinned and when she pointed at me, her finger wobbly, the fact something was in her system became all too apparent.

  “It’s Brody,” she said, proving she knew me once more, and the girl in pink smiled.

  She squeezed Alex’s arm. “And do you want to go with him? Brody?”

  It only took her a second.

  “Please,” she said, burying her face into my chest, warming it in so many ways. “Please.”

  The girl in pink raised her hand, to the bouncers, to the owner, and in response, the owner lifted and lowered his hands. “What the fuck ever. She wasn’t pulling her weight anyway. Take her, but you,” he paused, pointing at the girl in pink. “You need to get back to work.”

  I didn’t waste my chance. I headed out the way I came, but this time I had Alex. This time, I wasn’t letting go. I got outside with her, but it wasn’t until I made it to my truck, I noticed we had another companion. The girl in the pink wig flanked us and watched as I got Alex in the passenger seat of my truck. I had a blanket behind my seat and I pulled it out, covering her. I had a feeling she wouldn’t want me to see her this way. I made sure she was wrapped up real good before I turned to the girl in pink. She had Alex’s sparkly bag. She handed it to me and I took it.

  “She’s been staying with me,” she said, “the last few days.”

  I nodded. I turned to Alex, the smile and lethargic state she was in not sitting well with me.

  “What did she take?” I asked the girl in the wig. After putting Alex’s bag in the back and making sure she was secure, I closed the door.

  The girl crossed her arms. “I gave her some ecstasy. She said she’d danced before, but she wasn’t getting into it like she should, which was pissing off my boss. I told her it would help so she took it at the beginning of her shift. She’s starting to come down.”

  God, what I wouldn’t give to go back. I never would have left her at the train station. I’d stranded her. The girl in the wig pulled something out of the pocket of her skirt, a wad of cash. She handed it out to me, tipping her chin toward my truck. “For her. Boss won’t pay her now that she’s left, but this is what she earned.”

  I felt weird about accepting this on her behalf, but I did as the girl in the wig seemed insistent about it, shaking it at me. I held it up. “Won’t you need this?”

  She waved me off. “I’ll earn it back. She needs it. She wouldn’t say what for, but I know she does.”

  I think she was right about that and I had a feeling it had something to do with the little guy I spoke to on the phone earlier. I thanked the girl for all her help and she smiled at me.

  “Keep a better eye on her this time,” she said, backing away.

  She wouldn’t have to worry about that and Alex wouldn’t either.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alexa

  A shot of pain radiated behind my eyes, blasting me awake. I rose and put my hands on my head, hoping to dull it but to no avail. After a moment or two, I opened my eyes to a dark room. Streetlights from outside glowed through the window and the bed I sat in became evident. I lifted the sheet covering me, seeing I was in an oversized shirt…with nothing but my underwear on underneath.

  The world tilted then, the pain behind my eyes and the reality of my current situation slamming into me. I was in someone’s bed. I was in someone’s bed with barely any clothing on and no clear memory of how I got here or even where here was. Last I remembered, I had been at the club. It was supposed to have been my last night there, my earnings what I felt finally enough to give me and my family a good shot. We’d have some to live on. But now, someone had taken me…

  My stomach twisted, curling in an intense knot. I retched then, covering my mouth, and clawed my way to the edge of the bed. I sought a trashcan, anything I could throw up in. I didn’t see one, but then one was placed in front of me when someone rushed into the room. They sat beside me, a big, warm body and I gripped the can, the person who held it barely catching the vomit in time. A healthy amount of stomach bile and whatever food I had in my gut lined the bottom.

  The influx of it all hurt, it burned, but I couldn’t stop myself. The nausea only aided it and after a while, I couldn’t even see the can through my tears. That’s when the hand came, gently guiding me as I leaned forward to vomit more. The hand then rubbed me, warming my back in soothing circles. The motion didn’t stop, the gesture, and finally, I was able to look up.

  The fear left immediately.

  Brody smiled, his perfect, pink lips curved up in the corner. Sleep pants covered tree trunk thighs, the rest of him bare as he hovered over me, warming my back.

  I lurched again, part of it embarrassment and the other part because I was actually sick, so sick. Sitting there, he stayed with me. He took care of me.

  I rose up, wiping off my mouth. Holding my stomach, I craned over the can he held, preparing for the next. The nausea I had was sharp and I didn’t know if I could hold back. Managing to do so, I pressed my hand to my brow. “I don’t…” I said breathy from the sensation. “I don’t feel good.”

  His lip turned down, his hand lowering from my back.

  “One of the side effects,” he said, and though I knew he was right, my body never reacted this way before. I’d taken molly a couple times in the past at parties.

  But I never mixed it with alcohol like I’d done tonight.

  I feel so stupid.

  Filling the can again, I shook above it, holding it, and Brody’s hand returned to my back. I liked his hand there and I liked his body beside me. I liked how his muscles pierced his skin as he leaned over me and how he made me feel so small yet protected all at the same time.

  He caught me staring and leaned back, not so close. I caught sight of his chest and a line there revealed itself. The skin was indented, white. Clearly an old scar, it separated the right side of his chest from the left, right over his heart.

  He stood. “Sorry,” he said, and I watched as he went to the set of drawers against the wall and retrieved a shirt from the inside. He drew it down his body, covering himself, and then returned, looking apologetic. He rested his hands in his lap. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.” He pointed behind to the open door. “I was just sleeping on the couch and heard you. Sorry.”

  He didn’t have to apologize, but I did wonder what happened to him, how he got such a large scar on his chest. He didn’t say and he didn’t have time. A wave of nausea hit and I gagged. Brody aimed the can I held in the direction of my mouth. I fought it though, the sensation, and ended up pulling away and keeping it in for now.

  “Where am I?” I asked sniffing. My nose was running from all the vomiting. He handed me a tissue, then pressed a cold washcloth he seemed to get out of nowhere to my face.

  He dabbed my brow, then my neck. “My place. Still in El Paso.”

  I found it hard to speak, Brody comforting me so delicately with the towel. I looked around, seeing the subtle living arrangements of the man. He had just what he needed, nothing more, nothing less, and his bed was big, warm.

  I faced him. “How did you find me?”

  He drew the towel away and poured some water on it from a pitcher located on an end table near the bed. He returned it to my face. His lips lifted into smile. “It was a… something. I had some help though. I called in a favor with some of my buddies. They’re on the police force.”

  The night rushed back to me, broken and banging against my skull. Brody pulling me off the stage. Brody taking me and saving me from myself. How much had he seen of me on stage, as Valentine? How much had he…

  I stared down, seeing the shirt I wore. Another shirt had fit so loosely on me before. It had been his.

 
“Did I…” I asked, swallowing. It wasn’t the sickness this time. It was a lump, thick in my throat. “Did I dress myself?”

  He didn’t look at me, simply tended to my face as he nodded. “Mmhmm. You showered by yourself, too. I just guided your way.”

  Honestly, I expected nothing less from him. How ironic that the one person I didn’t mind closeness with, an intimacy with, was the one person who wouldn’t go there?

  He took the towel back, setting it on his lap. “How do you feel?”

  Thinking about my ailments, I took inventory, the piercing throb behind my head ever prominent. “My head hurts. And the nausea.” I moved the can and realized my limbs felt heavy as well. I also had no idea if I felt exhausted because of all the vomiting or the ecstasy… the alcohol. I’d never gotten this sick before but a combination of what I had in my system made sense. It was the only way I could dance though. I couldn’t get out of my head on stage. I kept thinking about deep blue eyes and what they’d think if they saw me.

  I sighed, rubbing my own. I fought the ache behind them and so much more.

  Brody lifted his hand, moving my way again, but then he stopped, hesitant. Eventually, he went on and when he did, returned it to my back. He rubbed like he had before, massaged, and I felt like liquid, the gesture helping in so many ways.

  “You should rest,” he said. “You have to be exhausted. I’m sure the drugs kept you dancing all night despite what energy you actually had.”

  Yeah, it had. That was the point I guess.

  “It’s just after four,” he continued. “Go ahead and try to get some more sleep…”

  The words had me moving and he followed me with his gaze. With shaking limbs, I clawed my way to the end of the bed and nearly fell to the floor when I got to the edge. I was so weak, but I didn’t care. Brody grabbed my shoulders, preventing the fall. “Alex—”

 

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