by Debra Kayn
Tiff sighed. "Honey, the ladies that walk into my building have backgrounds that'd give you nightmares. Don't get me wrong. They are all strong women, the strongest you'll ever meet and that includes Roni, but they come from neglect, abuse, and desperation. In all the years I've run the bordello, I've never had a sex worker who spread her legs for the sole purpose of enjoying sex. Besides being pregnant and wanting to raise my child in a stable home away from the ugliness of the world, my heart can't take any more stories of sadness. There's a better life out there for all of them, and when they walk away from Red Light for the final time, I want to believe they're going to find their rainbow."
He let his chin drop to his chest in respect. The women were lucky to have Tiff step into their life for three months. They all stood a better chance at making it in the outside world.
"I'll walk you out." Jeremy clamped his hand down on Dawson's shoulder.
"Tiff?" Dawson stopped and turned back to Jeremy's woman. "Can you have the doctor look at her wrist this morning? It's not swollen, and she was moving her hand last night while she was sleeping, but I'd feel better if she had it looked at while she's there."
"I will." Tiff straightened her shoulders and put her hand on her lower back. "While you talk to Jeremy, work something out so you can come back upstairs tonight and stay with Roni. I don't think she needs to be alone right now."
He studied Tiff. "Are you sure? She's farther away from me than ever after last night."
"She only wants you to believe that." Tiff smiled sadly. "The closer she gets to you, the harder she's going to fight and the stronger she'll become. Don't ease up on her and don't let her make excuses."
Jacqueline used to fight with him when she was a teenager. Having to be brother and dad to her, he'd stuck to the rules and made sure she was home on time, and he knew where she went with her friends. Until he'd gone to prison, the structure he'd set up kept the two of them close.
"Thanks." Dawson nodded at Tiff and followed Jeremy outside.
The cold whipped through his flannel shirt. He shoved his hands in his pockets, only now realizing he'd left his jacket and gloves upstairs in Roni's room.
Jeremy stopped outside the door. "Did you get any sleep last night?"
He shook his head.
"Go to the hotel, sleep, and come back at two o'clock. She'll have to leave the room to have dinner in the kitchen with the others but I agree with Tiff, you need to be on her as much as you can. I don't like the thought that we're going to send men to her room in two days after learning what she's already gone through."
"You want her gone?" He ignored the cold.
"This atmosphere isn't good for her." Jeremy lifted his chin. "Get out of here. Get some sleep."
He walked away, head down against the wind, and wondered how in the hell he'd get Roni out of the building, in his car, and heading toward Seattle without her screaming her head off and alerting everyone to what was happening.
Chapter Twelve
Roni brought two pop cans into the room and handed one to Dawson. She sat back on the bed and took a drink. After lunch, he'd shown up in her room and so far had no plans on leaving.
She set the can on the nightstand. When she'd excused herself for dinner leaving him in the room, she'd hung back in the kitchen longer than necessary hoping to find him gone when she returned to the room.
He hadn't left.
She'd used three excuses to go to the kitchen hoping to catch the other ladies, but they all went to their rooms and retired early. There was nothing she could do to waste the night away except spend the time with Dawson.
"Did the doctor take x-rays of your wrist?" asked Dawson, leaving his drink untouched.
"No." She pulled up her legs and hugged her knees. "He said it was only bruised, and I have to be careful not to put weight on it or fall again for a week. It doesn't even hurt unless I push my hand all the way back and put weight on it."
"That's good." He set his unopened pop on the floor by the leg of his chair. "Do you go to the doctor's every week?"
"Yep." She leaned her chin on her knee. "It's the rules, even though I don't have sex."
"Well, I imagine they have to be safe in case you do."
"I don't."
"But they don't know that." He gazed around the room. "Unless they have cameras in the room."
"Is this really what we're going to spend all night talking about?" She sighed. "I don't know why you'd want to spend time here. It's a room. You can't even see anything through the door to the balcony but the brick building next door and the sporadic snow fall. Don't you want to visit a bar or check out the area?"
"Nope." He leaned back in the chair. "What do you do when I'm not here?"
She lifted her brow. Sure that he wasn't asking to hear about how many dicks she put in her mouth, she remained silent.
"Come on, sweetheart, make this easier on the both of us." His boot tapped against the floor. "If you could do anything you want right now, what would it be?"
"I have no idea. I've never been in Federal before. I arrived after dark and was ushered into the building. Besides walking down the block to the doctor's office, I don't know what is here." She unfolded her legs and picked at her below-the-skin thumbnail with her fingers.
"Okay, let's say it's Saturday in Seattle. You've got two hundred dollars in your pocket, a handsome, if not rugged, guy at your side that looks a hell of a lot like me, and you want to do something that'll make you smile and impress him. Where are you taking me...him?" Dawson grinned.
She smiled holding in a laugh. "That's pathetic."
"Hey, cut me some slack, I'm trying to start a new conversation like you asked for." He shrugged. "Let's hear what you got."
She studied the hole in her jeans. There would be no snow in Seattle and with money, she could disappear for a day.
"Bainbridge Island." She glanced at him. "We could ride the ferry."
"As walk-ons or are we driving?"
Amused at his adding on to their imaginary date, she said. "Bicycles."
"I don't own a bike."
She looked away to hide her smile. "We'll rent two just for the day with our never-ending money pile."
"Why do I think this won't end very well?" He laughed. "I haven't ridden a bike since I was twelve years old."
"Seriously?" She shrugged. "I was fifteen and rode one to school until someone stole it off the bike rack. My mode of transportation didn't help me become popular in high school when all the cool, rich kids owned a car."
"Biking is better than walking." He latched his hands behind his head. "Isn't there a coffee shop on the island?"
"I've never been there." She crossed her legs. "Before Vince, I used to spend a lot of time at the pier during the day. I'd make up stories for the people that would come off the ferry and wonder what it would be like to go on something so big and yet floats on water."
"Can you swim? he asked.
She shook her head. "Never learned."
"Then you can't go on the ferry."
She frowned. "Of course, I can go. That's not a rule. I'm sure there are lots of people who can't swim who use the ferry. Like old-old people."
"I'd want to keep you safe. The boat might hit a seal or something and knock you overboard." He cleared his throat. "I went on the ferry once. Me and a couple...friends walked on. It was raining, so we stayed inside for the ride."
"Since you've already been there, where would you want to go instead?" Her curiosity got the better of her. She wanted to know what kind of date he'd take a woman on.
"Ivar's." He chuckled. "They have the best shrimp dinner, and then we'd walk down to the park and catch one of the concerts because we can still talk while listening to the music. Afterward, we'd walk back to my place enjoying a star-filled night, open a bottle of wine for you and a beer for me."
She propped her chin in her hand. "I like seafood."
"Then, it's a date." The low timbre of his voice gave her goosebumps. "Ivar's fo
r an early dinner, concert, and back to my place."
"That's it?" she said, before realizing she spoke her thoughts.
He lifted his brow. "Depends."
She searched for the mint in her mouth with her tongue and discovered it melted. "On what?"
"You." He leaned forward. "Is it our first date or our tenth? Do you like me or are you going with me because you're afraid to tell me no? Will you ask me to come inside the apartment for more? There are a lot of things I don't know about you, and until I do, that's the end of the date."
His gaze intensified, seeking answers only she could give him. Her chest warmed imagining the night out with him and all the intricacies that went along with spending time with someone you enjoyed. Where sex would be a reward for her and not only for him. Where she wanted to touch him to appease her curiosity. Where she wouldn't be punished and instead she'd be allowed to let the growing feelings consume her.
She stood from the bed, walked into the bathroom, and removed one of the five containers of wintergreen Lifesavers. She popped one in her mouth and without letting herself second guess her reasons, she carried the container out to the room. Dawson's gaze stayed on her, and she looked down at the floor in front of him.
"Here. You can have it." She hurried back to the bed, to safety, when he took her gift.
Dawson shook the container. The mints rattled against the side. She bit into the breath freshener. It was a stupid idea to encourage him.
He'd tasted her. Tasted the mint on her tongue. And, he'd admitted he liked kissing her.
"Thanks," he said.
She lifted her gaze and caught him putting a mint in his mouth. He smiled at her. She gasped silently, and warmth flooded her face. All the tension he'd created with his pretend date settled low in her stomach, unsettling her in a good way. She wanted the feeling to last and feared what would become of her if she continued to believe Dawson was telling her the truth, and she could trust him.
"He's buried deep in the ground somewhere, isn't he?" she whispered, afraid to let go of the fear she'd lived with for the last three years.
"Vince?" Dawson stood and approached the bed. He sat down beside her. "Yeah, sweetheart. He's dead, and you're free."
Unaware if she leaned toward him in relief or he gathered her in his arms, she found herself sitting on his lap with her head tucked into the nook of his neck. The strain of living each day looking behind her eased. Her body relaxed. Her overactive mind exhausted her.
Dawson swayed side to side, rocking her into security. She closed her eyes. For a few minutes, she'd trust him. She'd let go. She'd just be.
The next thing she knew, he placed her on the bed and covered her with the blanket. She kept her eyes closed and never questioned him when the mattress dipped with his weight, and he settled in for the night beside her.
She curled down in bed missing the comfort of his arms and needing to know one more thing before she started living as if the shadow of her past no longer stalked her.
"Dawson?" she whispered.
"Yeah?"
"You said Vince was killed. How?"
"It's not a bedtime story, sweetheart," he muttered.
"I need to know more than he was shot."
Several seconds passed without a reply. Finally, Dawson said, "Three bullets to the chest."
She opened her mouth to get more air. "Where? Where inside the house was he killed?"
"Roni, you don't—"
"I need to know everything." She swallowed down the nausea that attacked waiting for the information she needed, knowing she'd made her decision on what to do after her contract ended at Red Light. Good or bad, she wanted out of the Network. "If I'm going back to Seattle with you, I need to know."
The bed shifted. "In the kitchen of his house as he sat at the table drinking his morning coffee."
She opened her dry eyes and stared into the darkness. "Thank you."
Vince was dead.
At the end of her contract, she'd have a year's worth of money saved up. Her job paid well. If she stretched every penny, she'd have plenty of time to find an honest job without selling herself. She only needed a way back to Seattle and Dawson had offered her a ride.
Chapter Thirteen
Dawson toweled off his wet hair after taking a quick shower. His days and nights were fucked up. He had no idea what time it was anymore.
He walked out to the living room and found Jeremy still sitting on the windowsill in the Ryan Hotel looking down on the street.
"Thanks for waiting." Dawson bunched up the towel and threw it to the corner of the room. "What do I need to do to get Roni out of the Network?"
"She agreed to leave with you?" Jeremy folded his arms across his chest.
"Last night, she mentioned going back to Seattle." Dawson sat down on the couch. "I don't know, though. She's not saying much, and if I come right out and ask her, I'm afraid she'll step back. Hell, she might've even changed her mind already."
"You need to get her to commit to going with you. When she does, Tiff can make the call to the Network for her. They like two weeks warning to find another worker to send on to the next bordello but at this point with Red Light shutting down for good soon, I could give a rat's ass about the rules." Jeremy rolled to his hip and removed a can of chew from his pocket. "Any chance you can hurry Roni along and she can quit early?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "Any reason why you seem to want her out before her contract is up?"
"Stress isn't good for Tiff." Jeremy pinched his fingers in the can and put the snuff between his lip and gum. "There's also talk about the new sheriff coming in to take the place of the retiring sheriff, and he wants a closer look at the county next month before he takes office. I'd like to have Tiff safe and no worries over any surprise visits while there are prostitutes in the upstairs of the Sterling Building. Trying to keep Tiff stress-free means I'm doing what I can to make sure she doesn't have a bunch of shit to handle."
Dawson stretched his arms along the back of the couch. He'd only known Jeremy for a year before he was transferred back to Washington State Penitentiary. The Moroad MC president served at least fifteen years in prison if the rumors were correct, and he couldn't picture him settling down with a wife and kid on the way.
"How's your dad doing?" asked Dawson.
Jeremy scoffed. "I could call him up and have him swing by, and you can see for yourself."
Dawson shook his head. "I'll take that as he's doing fine and skip the visit."
"Smart decision." Jeremy pushed off the windowsill. "If you're going back to Red Light tonight, you better get your ass in gear."
He grabbed his boots and slipped them on, lacing them loosely. When he'd left earlier to run back to the hotel, eat dinner, and grab a shower, he left his return to Red Light up to Roni. She hadn't asked, so he wasn't going to turn down Jeremy's offer to go.
Roni needed to work tomorrow night, and he planned on sleeping in her bed if she let him. He'd found out she slept better when he was there to put his hand on her head and calm her dreams. And, he liked that he could do that for her.
Outside on the sidewalk, he flipped up the collar of his jacket and walked into the snow flurries. Federal kept their streets plowed, and the shopkeepers kept the walk shoveled making the trek easy.
"What's the pass like going west?" He turned his head to Jeremy.
"If you time it right, and there's no freak storm coming in, you should be able to handle it with the tires you've got on your rig." Jeremy veered off the curb and walked across the street. "Once you get out of the Cascade Mountains in Washington, you'll be good to go."
The cold whipped along the back of his neck. He'd be glad to get home to Seattle and away from the freezing temperatures.
"What's with all the fucking cars along the street?" he asked, scoping the long line of vehicles parked along the curb and down the block.
"The customers are already here for when Silver Girls opens in a few minutes." Jeremy pointed ahead o
f them. "We'll slip down the alley and come in the back.
Inside the Sterling Building, he stomped the snow off his boots and brushed off the arms of his coat. The lights from the main room downstairs lit up the backdoor entrance.
Several women walked by, smiled at him over their shoulders, and headed into the main room. He watched their asses sway in the red, sparkly G-strings.
Jeremey lifted his chin toward the stairs. "Once we're upstairs and if any of the ladies are in the hallway, I'll take you to our suite. They won't question anyone if they believe you're with me. If nobody is out in the hall, you can go straight to Roni's room."
He nodded, taking one more look inside the main room at the dancers and followed Jeremy up the stairs. At the landing, Jeremy keyed in a code and unlocked the door. He stepped onto the second floor and found the hallway clear. Without waiting for Jeremy, he hustled to Roni's door, turned the handle, and slipped inside.
A gasp came from behind him. He turned his head and put his hands out in front of him. "It's only me."
Roni hugged a towel against her naked body. Her wet hair dripped on her bare shoulders. Make-up free, she stared at him without moving. He took in the long, slim legs, her bare feet—one on top of the other—and his cock throbbed and hardened.
The direction of her eyes lowered, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. Her attention to his crotch only made his balls ache in pleasure.
She dragged her gaze back up his body and met his eyes. "I didn't know you were coming back tonight."
It took all his control not to take another look. He'd already seen her in sweats and jeans and at the beginning of his visits, she wore a robe she tied around her body. There was something incredibly appealing about seeing her only covered with a white towel.
"Do you mind if I stay tonight?" He approached her. "I thought we could hang out in your room, and I'd keep you company."
Her chin beat up and down as she nodded. "Can I get dressed for bed first?"
He couldn't help himself and leaned closer and kissed her forehead. "Sure."
She walked backward to the dresser, reached blindly into the second drawer and pulled out the clothes she needed and scurried into the bathroom, shutting him out, with only a second flash of her pale white ass before the door closed. He rocked back on his heels and smiled to the room. In her flustered state, she'd forgotten to grab a pair of panties.
