Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7) Page 4

  I hesitate before grabbing it and adding it to my now pile of two items. The only two things I’ve decided she could possibly want or need. Shit.

  The kitchen area is as messy as the rest of the place. Drawers open. Papers tossed around. I’m sharp. I know what those men were looking for. What I don’t know is if they found it or not. I’ll have to carefully question Britney in the morning.

  I spend the next ten minutes grabbing her phone charger and then making a small pile of shoes and clothes. I grit my teeth the entire time. The only thing I’ve retrieved that can’t and shouldn’t be replaced is the stuffed bunny. The rest I’d rather burn and buy new.

  But I can’t do that. She’d freak out if I started buying her more things. Hell, the value of her entire studio apartment can’t possibly be more than a few hundred dollars. But the woman has pride, and I’d be seriously stepping on it if I came home empty-handed and informed her that a new wardrobe would be delivered later that day.

  I do, however, take note of her sizes. Extra-small everything. She’s damn tiny. I can’t picture her stripping. It’s mind-boggling. Even her bras are a B cup.

  I stuff everything into a duffel bag I found in her closet and hurry from the apartment, taking the stairs back down to my SUV two at a time.

  Unease is creeping up my spine as my phone vibrates silently in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen before answering. “Blade.”

  “Hey, Spidey. Got your message. What’s going on? All you said was urgent, call me.”

  “I’ll explain on the way. Can you meet me at the Sky Lounge?”

  Blade chuckles. “Need to unwind a bit?”

  I groan. “Nope. Need to stop a human trafficking ring.”

  He sucks in a breath. “I’ll meet you there in ten.”

  I grip the steering wheel with both hands, far tighter than necessary on the drive to the Lounge. I should turn over what I know to Blade and let him assign some other guys to this case, a case with no paying customer. I should recuse myself because after having only known Britney for a day I’m already emotionally involved with her.

  Rule number one—never get involved with a client. I absolutely must pass the job on to Blade and go back to my house. But I won’t. I won’t for the same reason I should. I like this woman, and I want to personally make sure she’s safe. She’s my responsibility. No chance I’m going to turn over her safety to someone else, even if I would trust every man on our team with my life.

  Blade is already in the parking lot and he strolls over to me as I climb from my SUV. He’s wearing all black. Not shocking. I am too. It’s what our wardrobes mostly consist of. “Care to fill me in a bit?” Blade asks.

  “I did that job for Cindy this morning at the animal shelter.”

  “Right. I remember.”

  “Met a woman there, Britney. Works for Cindy. She was sleeping in the parking lot. Long story short, she worked here also until last night. She overheard her boss talking to another man about selling her.”

  Blade groans and rubs his forehead. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. It’s bad. I knew you wouldn’t want me going in and snooping around alone.”

  He claps me on the shoulder. “Damn straight. Where’s the woman now?”

  “My place.”

  He lifts a brow.

  I glance away. “She needed a place to stay. I could tell Cindy was beside herself. Inviting someone to stay with her is complicated.”

  Blade nods. “I’ve met Cindy several times at Surrender. No need to say more. I get it. I can probably even guess what her fetish is just from knowing her.”

  I nod. “Anyway, I offered. Britney is at my house now. I just went by her place to pick up some of her things. It’s been tossed.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah, the stakes went higher. That’s when I texted you.”

  “Let’s go check this fine establishment out then.”

  I walk next to Blade as we approach, and it only takes a few minutes to pay our entrance fee. By the time we’re seated, I’m struggling to contain my aggravation. I’m actually seething at the thought of Britney ever being inside this club, let alone dancing.

  There are currently three women on the stage. All are wearing nothing but G-strings. The lighting is dim, naturally. Several men are sitting in front of the stage holding up dollar bills.

  We’ve taken seats farther back, but it only takes a few moments for a tall, slender woman to approach and slide her hand across my shoulders. She leans in close, letting her huge fake tits hang in front of my face. Thick locks of her black wig fall across her shoulders.

  I’m a dude. I like tits. But I’ve never seen the attraction in places like this.

  “Hey there,” she drawls. “I’m Licorice. Interested in a private dance?”

  I shake my head. “Actually, I was hoping to see a particular dancer I saw last time I was here.”

  Licorice gives me a fake pout and twirls a lock of fake black hair. “What’s she look like, honey? Maybe she’s backstage.”

  “She’s short. Super long hair. Cute round face. Blue eyes.” I lean back a bit to avoid this woman’s perfume.

  She chuckles. “Cotton Candy? That girl?” She rolls her eyes dramatically. “Why do men always want to tap that? I seriously don’t get it. Sure, her hair is amazing—and real by the way—but she has no tits, no curves, and no interest in having implants. Plus,” the woman leans in closer again, “you’re wasting your time. She doesn’t do privates. No one here has seen her snatch. And…” Licorice runs a finger along my brow, “…you’re not going to believe this…”

  “Try me.” I’m close to grabbing this woman’s arm and tossing her off me.

  “She’s a virgin.”

  My eyes bug out. I can’t stop them. Whether or not this information is true, I’m still stunned.

  Licorice laughs. “Right? Hard to believe. But trust me, everyone who works here knows it. The bossman never lets her out of his sight while she’s working either. Hands off. Looking, no touching. She’s got special privileges, as if being a virgin is something to be proud of.”

  I swallow.

  Blade interjects. “I heard she can dance though. Is she here tonight?”

  Licorice backs up and moves over to Blade. Thank God. She straddles one of his thighs and rubs her crotch against his black jeans. Her tits bounce with every move. There is no doubt she’s sexy and good at her job. “She’s a good enough dancer.” Licorice shrugs. “She isn’t here tonight though. Didn’t show up last night either.”

  “Damn. I was hoping to get to see her,” Blade says.

  “Got a hair fetish?” Licorice jokes. “I’ve got longer wigs backstage if you like that kind of thing.”

  Blade chuckles, though I know he’s faking. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  Licorice backs off with a pout. She cups her breasts and jiggles them. “If you men change your mind and decide you’d like a lap dance from someone with more than a handful of tits, flag me down.” She spins and moves on to the next guy.

  Blade leans in closer. “You failed to mention several things.” He smirks.

  I shrug.

  “What’s with the hair? How long is it?”

  “Past her ass.”

  “Fuck me. Color?”

  “Combination of blonds and browns.” I keep my voice level.

  “And her tits?”

  That’s the last straw. I jerk my head to face him. “Can we not discuss Britney’s body please?”

  Blade chuckles as he leans back. He rubs his chin and stares at me. “Now I get it. You’re into her.”

  I look away. “I’m not fucking into her. I just met her. I’m helping her out.”

  “Oh, man. You’re so totally into her. I can’t wait to meet her. I should have known from the description. You do tend to go for the petite ones.”

  I frown at him. “That’s bullshit.”

  He lifts a brow. “Is it?”

  I groan and turn away again. He’
s right. I like my women petite. Big boobs do nothing for me. A handful is all I need.

  “One more question, and then I’ll shut up,” Blade says, leaning closer. “Did you know she was a virgin?”

  “No.” I’m still reeling from that detail. I’m also wondering if it’s true. As skittish as she is, it’s possible, I suppose. But what twenty-two-year-old stripper could possibly still be a virgin?

  “Makes sense then.”

  “What does?” I ask.

  “If the owner is super-protective of her, I’ll bet he’s been looking for a buyer for a while. Petite woman. Small breasts. Long hair. Virgin? He could get big money for her and claim she’s younger than she is.”

  I grit my teeth and jerk my face in his direction again. “That’s why we’re here.”

  “The question is, has any money changed hands yet? If he’s already sold her, she’s in a heap of trouble. If not, he might be able to let her go and move on.”

  Suddenly the bouncer I saw working the entrance is looming over me. His arms are crossed. Feet planted wide. I look up at him. Fuck. “Owner wants to talk to you,” he says. “Follow me.”

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck. I glance at Blade who starts to stand.

  The bouncer shakes his head. “Not you. This one.” He points at me.

  “What’d I do?” I ask. This is not good. There are only two of us and we have no backup to get out of this situation.

  The guy smirks. “Probably wants to offer you a fucking job. You’re a big guy. It happens.”

  I rise, praying it’s that simple. It’s a bit too coincidental that Blade and I have been sitting here inquiring about Britney five minutes before the owner hones in on me. I look around and see that Licorice is now straddling her next customer. She hasn’t had a chance to rat me out to her boss. So, unless the table we’re sitting at is bugged, this has to be a coincidence.

  I straighten my shirt and smooth my hands down my chest as I follow the bouncer to a back set of stairs and up to the second floor. I spot Blade still seated at our table from the balcony because the second floor only encompasses the periphery of the building.

  I take careful stock of where I’m located with regard to the exits as the bouncer knocks on a door and then opens it. “The man you wanted to speak to, Sir.”

  “Thanks, Gordon.”

  Gordon backs up and lets me pass.

  I enter, immediately noting that the man facing me has a vibe I do not like. He’s like a mob boss. Balding. Fake smile. Three-piece suit. He reeks of laundered money. He points to a chair across from his desk. “Have a seat.”

  “Not sure why I’m here,” I point out as I approach.

  He waves a hand through the air. “Nothing nefarious. I was just watching you from the balcony. I like your style and you’re a big guy. I can always use more guys like you on my team.” He points at the chair again. “Sit.”

  I do not like being ordered around, but I finally lower onto the chair at the same time he drops back onto his. He chuckles. “I like you already. What do you do?”

  “Bounty hunter,” I respond without flinching. It’s a standard answer I give any time someone finds me suspicious. People back off when they realize someone is a bounty hunter.

  “You don’t say.” He rubs his chin. “Excellent. Any chance you have some spare hours to work for me? I’m in need of a new man.” He reaches out a hand. “Nick Lazinski, by the way.”

  “Brock Jacobs,” I return. Another answer that easily rolls off my tongue. Even matches the ID I used to get into the club. “What kind of work are we talking about?” I ask, forcing myself to remain outwardly calm. I lean back and cross my legs.

  “For now, I need you to find someone. If you succeed, I’ll pay you a hefty finder’s fee. We can discuss future jobs at that time.”

  “How much money are we talking about?” I inquire, keeping my voice level. I’m praying that the person he needs found is Britney. I’m also praying to God it is not.

  He jots down a figure and pushes the piece of paper across the desk toward me.

  Holy fuck.

  Again, I give no indication this is unusual. “This person you’re looking for break the law? Steal something from you?”

  He shakes his head. “On the contrary. She’s done nothing wrong. She’s one of my dancers. Didn’t show up last night and was a no-show again tonight. I don’t like it. Smells of foul play.”

  I nod. I’m also going to win an Oscar for my performance. “You hunt down all your employees when they don’t show up? They have some kind of contract with you?”

  He shakes his head and grins. “Nope. I’m just a good guy. I worry about my girls. There are a lot of creeps out there who might harass my girls after hours. My staff works hard to ensure no one is followed home, but it can happen anyway. This girl didn’t call in, isn’t answering her phone, and didn’t respond to her door when I sent men to check on her.”

  “Seems like a lot of work. Maybe she just quit,” I suggest.

  “Unlikely. She’s treated like gold here.” He sets his elbows on the desk. “This one is special. Men request her every night.”

  I lift my brows. “What’s so special about her?”

  He shrugs. “She ain’t like the other girls. She’s…pure. No enhancements. Real hair. Kind of rare in this industry.” He reaches into a folder and then hands me a picture that makes my blood boil. Not that I’m surprised, but the confirmation that he’s looking for Britney, my Britney, makes my chest tighten.

  I hold the picture in front of me. “I’ve seen her here before. Cotton Candy.” I can’t very well lie. Licorice could easily rat to her boss that I asked for Britney. “Was hoping to see her tonight actually.”

  The guy laughs. “See? Told you she’s well-liked. There’s an untapped market for girls who haven’t had any work done. You get it.”

  I nod as I set her picture down on the desk, not wanting to look at it any longer. It’s a photo of her dancing, and I currently want to burn this place down to destroy it and any other photos this man might have taken of Britney.

  Obviously, I haven’t seen her breasts up close and personal, but this isn’t the way I would have preferred to see them for the first time.

  I’m kicking myself in my mind. First of all, Britney is not mine. Second of all, I have no business ever seeing her tits. I’m trying to save her life, not claim her. I need to remind myself of that often if I’m going to get through this without hurting her.

  She’s so fucking sweet. She leans on me like she totally trusts me. How on earth has someone like her survived this long without… I can’t even think the rest of that sentence.

  Lazinski taps the folder that contained the photo. “I have all her details in here. More pics. Address. Cell phone. You think you can find her?”

  I sigh, pretending to consider his offer. “That’s a lot of money,” I state, pointing at the figure he wrote down. I should pretend to be leery. Fuck, I am leery. Of course, I’m going to take this job. It’s divine intervention he offered it to me. I certainly don’t want some other fucker running around town looking for Britney.

  This actually couldn’t have worked out better. I can be the inside man. I’ll know what the hell is going on at all times. It’s the best way we could possibly gain access to the seller and the buyer. I doubt Lazinski is the actual seller, just like I doubt whoever was meeting him here was the actual buyer. They were both middlemen. Now they’re in a panic. Lazinski is awfully calm for a man who’s in as deep dog doo-doo as he is.

  He shrugs. “Like I said, I take good care of my girls.”

  I nod slowly and draw in a breath as I push myself to sitting more upright, hands on my knees. “Can’t promise anything, but I’ll give it a shot. How many people you got working on this?”

  “A few of my bouncers. I want to keep this quiet. Don’t want the other girls worrying.” He waves a hand through the air. “My bouncers went to her place earlier, but they came back empty-handed. I also sent several texts and
left messages. No answers. That’s why I’m even more concerned.”

  Went by her place? That’s a joke. They tossed it.

  “Time frame?” I ask.

  “ASAP.”

  Shit. That’s not enough information. I’d rather know exactly when the buyer is expecting Lazinski to deliver. I’m sure Lazinski is hoping the man never becomes aware his purchase was missing. I stand and reach for the folder. “I’ll do my best.”

  He reaches into his desk, pulls out a folded stack of cash in a rubber band, and tosses it across the desk. “I’ll pay the rest upon completion,” he says.

  “Understood.” What I understand is that this man is probably strapped for cash and needs Britney to get himself out of debt, in which case this is the sum total of the money I’ll ever see. Then a darker thought comes on its heels. He’s so afraid of the buyer that he’ll toss out good money on a gamble that I’ll find her. I wonder how many other girls he’s sold and shudder inside.

  He hands me his card. “You can reach me here if you have any information. Please update me often.”

  “Will do.”

  How I manage to walk out of that office and down the stairs without steam coming out of my head is a miracle. I aim straight for Blade. “Let’s go.”

  He rises without question and follows me outside.

  “Meet you at the office in five.”

  He nods and heads for his own car. We’re not having this conversation here in the parking lot. I’m certain Lazinski is watching me. I’ll fill Blade in when we get to a safe location, and it goes without saying that we’ll both make sure we are not followed.

  Chapter 7

  Britney

  I wander around Davis’s house for a while, enjoying the silence. I’ve rarely enjoyed such silence in my life. A vast house with no one in it? Unheard of. Even my apartment isn’t quiet. The walls are thin. I can hear the specific words coming from my neighbors on both sides. The people above me must be running a dance studio too.

  I don’t want to be nosey, so I don’t open any cabinets or drawers or even closed doors. Most of them are open though. I can see that he has a modern office with a glass desk and a state-of-the-art computer system. His gym is also impressive. Expensive equipment. Not unusual for Seattle where running outside is often a challenge. Many people own treadmills.