White Trash Beautiful

by Nichole Severn

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2012 Nichole Severn

  ISBN: 978-1-927368-98-5

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: Marie Medina

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For my husband, who let me prove I could make a career with my imaginary friends

  WHITE TRASH BEAUTIFUL

  Nichole Severn

  Copyright © 2012

  Chapter One

  Rough hands ripped Trey Aston from the car. She laced her hands behind her head as she’d been instructed with indifference. She’d been through all of this before. There were no surprises left for tonight. “Hi, Tucker,” she said with a smile.

  Officer Tucker smiled back, but left her for his partner to question. In clipped tones, he ordered her john to get out of the driver’s seat.

  “We weren’t doing anything!” her client shouted, but wouldn’t move without zipping up his pants first.

  Big mistake.

  He didn’t have a chance to move before one of Parkvista’s finest threw him face down onto the pavement. Tucker had the cuffs around her john’s wrists before the man could even get his breath back.

  She barely gave him a glance as the red and blue lights crossed her vision, their movement almost hypnotic. She should have been more careful, should have known the gas station wasn’t a good place to take care of business. Wisps of frigid North Dakota air swept under her ragged, black, leather skirt and under the wife beater tank top. A shiver ran down her spine. It sure as hell hadn’t been the snow that brought her back. The whiskey did nothing to keep her warm.

  “Trey, what the hell are you doing here?” Tucker’s partner asked. In a town occupied by less than two thousand citizens, everyone’s voice sounded familiar, but this one had a history of sending heat straight between her legs.

  Trey tried to keep her breathing even as Officer Luke Johnson confronted her. Every memory of him flashed across her mind when he settled in front of her, and the officer’s uniform only made it worse. She’d ripped those buttons off countless times during their days together, ran her hands over each abdominal muscle. Now, it seemed she’d never have that chance again. Cops and prostitutes didn’t exactly make the perfect couples.

  She couldn’t answer save for a curse that escaped her lips. He knew exactly what she’d been doing. Her hair most likely told the whole story along with the fact that her skirt had hiked itself up around her waist. Heat began to rise up her neck in frustration. She’d worked hard to avoid him. Now, however, she had nowhere to run. Trey’s heartbeat sped, her eyes darting left and right for a way out.

  “Where are your condoms?”

  She opened her mouth, the freezing air working down into her chest.

  “That bitch came on to me! I didn’t know what she was doing!”

  “Not that kind of date.” Trey could barely hold back a laugh, but the look in Luke’s eyes told her it would only make things worse. Her heart nearly skipped a beat as she stared back at him. She willed her breathing to even out and her head to stay in the game, but the over-the-limit blood alcohol level made it hard. “You going to arrest me this time?”

  He motioned for her to turn around and she complied. Pulling her hands behind her back, Luke pushed her against the car.

  “That tickles!” The laugh finally escaped, but her head spun.

  His professional duties had him patting her down for weapons, but there wasn’t really a place to hide any. “You’re drunk.”

  “Wouldn’t I have to be?” A few memories of those hands flashed across her eyelids and she bit into her lip as hard as possible as a distraction.

  It didn’t cut it.

  Luke had always gotten past her defenses. Mocha skin. Sharp jawline. Over six feet tall. Ripped over every delicious inch of his body. Her hands couldn’t even fit around his biceps, the muscles beneath tensing with every movement.

  Trey knew about the last one from personal experience, but that had ended when she’d woken up and run off to Vegas. She’d never been one for proposals. Or so she told herself.

  “Why you doing this?” he asked. He flipped her back around. His eyes flushed her concentration down the drain in that moment, the brown depths probing for the truth. “You’re going to catch something, or worse, end up dead.”

  His question meant to bring some type of sobriety, but she’d had a lot to drink. “We’ve already had this conversation.” She didn’t want to have “the talk” again. Stumbling, she managed to keep her gaze on him steadily as she started at his feet and ended at his eyes, taking a few pit stops along the way. She pointed an index finger into his tense chest, eager to follow it with the rest of her body. “And unless you’re going to pay me to stay here, I’m going home.” She turned to leave, but he stopped her abruptly with a handcuff around her wrist.

  “The answer’s yes,” Luke said. “I’m going to arrest you this time.”

  An hour later she’d been processed, arraigned, given clothes to cover up with and locked in a cell. This little excursion had been the most fun she’d had in months. The eight-by-eight space smelled of urine and cigarettes and Trey forced herself to breathe as little as possible in fear of losing what little food she’d been able to scrounge up at the gas station. Unfortunately, the stench would go home with her. She mentally winced at the idea. Flashes of her makeshift bedroom in the junkyard crossed her mind, but even worse, the image of her father waiting for her return sent a shiver down her spine.

  Her date for the night sat in the cell across from hers and they’d been having a staring contest for the past fifteen minutes when a door at the end of the corridor slammed shut. By the sound of it, Officer Luke Johnson had come to apologize. She couldn’t wait to hear his excuse this time.

  “These belong to you?” he asked as he came around the corner. Luke held up something made of pink lace and black ribbon. Her panties. “Got ‘em out of his pocket.”

  She didn’t miss the slight movement of his fingertips as they brushed across the fabric. The officer’s eyes shifted slightly, unfocused. “And you thought I’d want them back after he touched them?” Trey smiled as best as she could out of sarcasm then rubbed her eyes. The headache had started. “No, thank you.”

  “All right then.” Luke offered them back to her john. “They’re all yours, buddy.”

  And he took them.

  “Disgusting,” she grumbled. “Who, in their right mind, keeps someone else’s underwear?” The idea of her client having a small piece of her nearly made Trey ask for them back. Then again, she thought. Just one more thing I don’t have to take care of.

  Luke unlocked the john’s cell. “You made bail, Henry, but I’m pretty sure Ellen threw your stuff on the front lawn. Got a call from her asking us to shoot you where you stand.” He wore a smile like always, one that showed off those perfectly white teeth and made Trey’s gut clench.

  Henry slid into the corridor. “What’d you tell her?”

  “I said I’d think about it.” That damn smile made another appearance. “Go home. Take care of your wife.”

  Henry only nodded, but took nervous steps toward the exit. “Thanks, Luke.”

  Luke’s smile disappeared as the door slammed shut again.r />
  The sound echoed in her head, bouncing around like church bells. Rubbing at her eyes, she groaned in annoyance. “Can you please keep the loud noises to a minimum?”

  He didn’t respond and, in a way, Trey was grateful. Nothing had prepared her to confront him today and that damn voice of his had always kept her wanting more. Smooth as silk, even in short, clipped tones, Luke’s voice sent jolts of pleasure straight between her legs and lingered under her skin for days. It’d been his voice she’d fallen in love with first. The muscles, chocolate eyes, mocha skin and full adoration toward her only made her fall harder. And look where all that got you, she thought. You’re on the wrong side of these bars.

  “You here to tell me to go home, too? Take care?” Trey asked. “It’s like you really think he won’t be calling me up again in a week.”

  He only stared at her as he leaned back against the cell’s bars and crossed his arms. The action made his biceps bulge in all the right places. “Shut up and listen.”

  Trey stood. Nobody told her what to do. “What’d you just say to me?”

  Luke confronted her at the bars, his hands in fists at his side. “You deserve this, Trey. I told you what you had to do to get out of this life and you ignored me. So no, I’m not going to tell you to go home and take care because you’re not going anywhere.” He closed his eyes, backing away from the bars. When he reopened them, Officer Johnson addressed her, not Luke, and her heart sank. The game between them had officially ended. “I’m not going to help you this time.”

  “You think your offer to take me away from here was to help me?” She shouldn’t have said it, but the words had a force of their own.

  He started walking down the corridor.

  She wrapped her hands around the bars separating them, yelling after him. “You weren’t doing it for me! You just wanted to feel better after sleeping with a whore!”

  The door slammed shut, kindling the hope building in her chest that she wouldn’t have to go home.

  Chapter Two

  “Johnson!” Reynolds greeted with a smile. “Heard your girlfriend is visiting.”

  Luke tried to ignore the jokes and focused on Trey’s paperwork in front of him. She’d be released by tomorrow morning with another fine.

  Reynolds sat his fat ass down on the corner of Luke’s desk, his beer gut making an appearance just below his uniform. “What I don’t understand, Johnson, is why you posted her bail. I mean, she’s a whore.”

  Luke bolted up, pushing the fat bastard off the desk and onto his back. He had the guy by the collar, spitting down into Reynolds’ black handlebar mustache. “Don’t you ever say that about her again!” Beady eyes stared back at him in fear.

  He’d seen that look before, his stomach rolling.

  Parkvista’s small station had gone completely silent around him.

  His eyes shot up to meet the surprised faces of officers around him, neighbors, friends. He hadn’t snapped in a long time. He’d been doing better since he’d cut ties with Trey, but what was his excuse now?

  Reynolds held his hands up in surrender. “I was kidding, man.”

  Luke let him go, backing away slowly. Sometimes he forgot how angry he could get. The adrenaline pumping through his veins dimmed slightly, but still left a sheen of sweat across his forehead. “Sorry.” He forced his eyes back to his desk. “I have to finish this paperwork.”

  He took his seat. He could feel their eyes on him, a pressure at the back of his neck. He’d been stupid to think posting Trey’s bail would fix anything, least of all her. Unable to focus on the text in front of him, Luke stood. He had to see her. He had to convince her to stop this shit. Nothing during their time together foretold his high school sweetheart ending up as a hooker. Nothing. He rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. What had gone wrong?

  Unsure if it was the way she talked, the way she walked or the way she felt against his body kept that him wanting more, Luke had to get ahold of himself. But he couldn’t just turn his back on her, not after everything they’d been through.

  Trey may be a hooker, but he still loved her all the same.

  ****

  Third time’s the charm, she thought and gathered her possessions from Louis Holt. She knew almost everyone in this town intimately, including Louis. “Been a while,” she commented and stuffed her lipstick back inside the wristlet she carried. “Gwen catch onto our little meetings?”

  Christ, she needed money. More and more of her clients had landed behind bars because of their stupid mistakes and she’d gone down with them. Three times in the last month alone.

  “Everybody’s got to cut back these days,” he answered.

  “Guess so.” Trey picked up her last remaining possession, a locket, and turned around as fast as she could. From the corner of her eyes, she noticed Luke jogging his way down the hallway and she did not want to take another trip down memory lane. Tucking a strand of dirty black hair behind one ear, she almost toppled on her four-inch heels as she ran out the door.

  “Trey!”

  That voice used to stop her in her tracks, but she just couldn’t take it anymore.

  The heels held her back. She hopped on one foot, wrenching a single heel off and then the other. Running flat out, she only caught glimpses of the startled citizens of Parkvista. Under normal circumstances, she would have smiled as she passed, but Officer Luke Johnson had taken all lightheartedness out of her and not for the first time.

  “Trey, stop!”

  She didn’t, struggling to keep a steady pace.

  “You know I’m going to catch you!”

  “Just go away!” she yelled back over her shoulder. Trey knew he wouldn’t listen. He never did. Her legs ached, the air in her lungs shallow. Why wouldn’t he just let her go? She only made it a couple more blocks, almost to the junkyard, when he caught up with her. He came from behind, tackling her to the cement.

  The impact only made breathing even harder. Her head hit the pavement. Hard. Pain erupted behind her eyes, but Trey managed to remain conscious. She’d gotten used to pain.

  “Shit,” Luke hissed. He pushed himself off of her and suddenly breathing wasn’t difficult at all. “Trey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  “Just get off me,” she snapped. A quick evaluation of her body told her she’d live. Trey stood slowly, knowing if she got up too fast, she’d black out and she wasn’t about to let her guard down around this man. She’d done that enough without a head injury. She brushed lose gravel from her knees and dirt from her clothes.

  “Trey.” Luke stepped closer, his hands reaching for her.

  “Don’t,” she warned him. “I have pepper spray.”

  He dropped his hands. The left side of his mouth lifted. The movement caught her off guard and Trey forced her gaze away. She’d kissed that corner of his mouth countless times, especially when he’d given her that cocky half-smile, and she wanted nothing more than to fall back into their easy-going past.

  Wait for it, she told herself.

  “Well, if you don’t have condoms, at least you have pepper spray.”

  “You just had to talk, didn’t you?” Trey turned her back on him and started for the junkyard again.

  “Wait! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

  His footsteps followed behind her and she really didn’t care. Her eyes grew heavy, her body slack with exhaustion. He wanted another fight? Wanted to save her? He’d come at the wrong time. She just couldn’t afford to care anymore. If nothing else stopped her, she’d be able to get a shower down at the convenience store later and crash. The idea of sleeping on that molded, worn-out mattress made her move faster. Jail hadn’t exactly been the perfect place to take a nap. If he wanted to follow her, she would let him. She would let him see where she crashed every night. Then she realized, she didn’t want him to see it. What would he think of her living in the junkyard? “Go away.”

  His hand wrapped around her arm for the second time in twenty-four hours. Exhilaration and pain coursed through
her entire body at the same time. The warmth of his mocha skin against hers sent a wave of ecstasy straight into the pit of her stomach. Her heartbeat picked up, a small gasp escaping her lips. She wanted more, needed more to soften the razor-sharp edge she’d built while in Vegas.

  Trey tried to shake him off before he could swing her around to meet his eyes, but she wasn’t nearly as strong as him and the exhaustion had taken the fight out of her. Tears pricked at her eyes. She didn’t want to hurt him again, but she couldn’t watch him die either. “You need to leave me alone.”

  The brown eyes she’d been avoiding bored into her, hardened steel making her tense. They softened after a moment, something she hadn’t expected. “Tell me why you’re doing this.” He shook her, but not hard enough to hurt. “I’ll give you the money if that’s what this is about.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Just tell me how to fix this.” The pleading in his eyes almost made her confess.

  Almost.

  “You paid my bail, didn’t you?” She should have known the moment he’d started running after her. Oh, God. Fear slithered its way down her spine. He would ruin everything she’d worked so hard for. Her father would find out. Luke would be taken from her. Killed. Shaking her head in vain to discard the thoughts, she pushed past him. “I have to go.”

  He let go.

  Trey’s head spun. She knew now the hit to the pavement had been more serious than she originally thought. She needed to get home. She wanted to reach up with her shaky hand and soften the worry lines around his eyes, but she didn’t. Couldn’t. She would never be the woman to do that again. “Don’t follow me.” She started home again, praying Luke was smart enough to listen, but in the same thought hoped he wasn’t.