Sin City Uniform 02 - Copping an Attitude (3 page)

His body went limp as if in defeat. Parker hauled him up to a standing position, using one hand to clutch his collar and the other to grip his arm. The boy winced.

“Are you hurt?”

Deep blue eyes lined in black stared up at him, defiant. But behind that façade was a deep sadness that threatened to crush Parker’s heart even more.

“What the fuck do you care?”

He’d tried to make his voice sound cocky, tough. Parker was used to the attitude he received from the various lawbreakers he interacted with on a daily basis, but he still felt as if there was something different about this one. It wasn’t his job to interfere with individuals, only to bring them in—and when appropriate—offer relevant social services information. Personal involvement was off limits.

“I care more than you probably think.”

Parker took out his cuffs, which startled the young man into action. He yanked his arm forcefully and Parker tightened his hold. The kid hissed again in obvious pain. Parker decided to cuff him in front until he could determine that the boy wasn’t injured.

“What’s your name?”

He remained silent. Parker patted him down.

“Anything in your pockets I should know about? Drugs? Needles? Other sharp objects?”

“Dude, I’m not a fucking user.”

“Good. That shit’s bad for you. I’m glad to hear you’re clean.”

The kid arched his eyebrows, a look of mild surprise evident. Parker found a wad of bills stuffed into one side of his pants and a Nevada ID in the other. No wallet. There wouldn’t have been room for such a thing in the tight clothing the young man wore. Parker examined his identification and barely controlled a snort of laughter.

“Slade Wolfgang? I’m supposed to believe this?”

Slade scowled at him. “I don’t give a fuck what you believe.”

“You might at some point. Want to tell me why that guy from the casino told me to come after you?”

The kid snorted. “Not really.”

“Okay then. I guess we’re done here.”

“I can go?”

The hopeful, almost childlike tone in Slade’s voice only added to Parker’s concern for him.

Parker shook his head. “If you won’t talk to me, I’ll have to send you downtown where you can explain it to them. With any luck, you’ll see a judge in the morning and hopefully, be out after that.”

“No!” It had come out on a wail. “I can’t, you don’t understand. It’s impossible. Please don’t do this! Seriously, dude, I’m begging. I’m
begging
you!”

Parker frowned. He’d heard plenty of impassioned pleas over the years. If he was a betting man, he was sure that Slade was a sex worker and had a pimp who kept a close eye on him. But there was something else. The briefing about the escalating violence amongst those in the sex industry the day before rose in his mind.

“Slade, are you in danger? I can help—”

“No, no danger.” Slade’s eyes filled with clear terror, his breathing amping up. He shrunk in on himself, his body trembling under Parker’s sure grip.

This poor kid.

“Come on. Let’s go.”

One second Parker was tugging on Slade’s arm to lead him away and the next second Parker was writhing on the ground, white-hot fire searing through his balls as he clutched at them.

God damn. How did he manage that?

His eyes were screwed shut as he tried to breathe through the excruciating pain. The slap of approaching footfalls sounded on the asphalt and Parker hoped that it was Darren.

“Jesus, Parker. What the hell?”

He felt Darren’s hand on his arm as if to help him up.

“Not yet.” He gritted it through his teeth. “Need a minute.”

The noise of more approaching footsteps jarred him and he sucked air in, willing himself to his feet before he was caught by his associates with his hands stuffed between his legs. Darren stood near him, apparently ready to assist him if he needed it. He kind of did need help, but he pushed through it.

His sergeant showed up along with the officers from the second unit that had lent a hand during their original call.

“Did you see which way he went?”

Parker’s face heated. He was reluctant to share with everyone that he’d been kneed in the groin by a suspect who had then got away.

“No, sir, I didn’t.” Parker cleared his throat. “But he does have my cuffs on him.”

Sergeant Lopez considered him before turning to the second unit cops. “Get a description from McLean, then I want both cruisers out looking for him. He shouldn’t be too hard to spot.” Lopez gave Parker a pointed stare before continuing. “A kid traipsing around with his hands cuffed might not be all that unusual for this town, but the lack of requisite bondage gear should give him away.” Lopez addressed the group again. “The manager wants him trespassed for hustling on casino property. He says he’s seen him around before.”

Parker bowed his head, uncharacteristically emotional at hearing what he’d already suspected was the case. He didn’t understand why he felt such a surge of compassion for Slade. It had been something about his eyes, his tone. Underneath all of Slade’s tough exterior, Parker thought he could detect an emotional soul who was in dire need of someone to care about him.

“Okay, let’s go, people. Time’s wasting.”

As Darren and Parker jogged back to their vehicle, Parker fell behind. His balls ached like a son of a bitch. What he really needed was an ice pack, but he’d settle for the chance to sit down for a minute.

After they’d pulled out of the parking lot and headed west on Flamingo Road, Darren spoke up.

“Are you okay?”

“My nuts appreciate your concern, but they’re fine.”

“I didn’t mean that smart ass—although I’m glad to hear it. I meant is there something else bothering you? You’ve been frowning and…”

Parker huffed out a breath, the whole evening beginning to seriously irritate him. “And what?”

Darren sighed. “I don’t know. Like something’s really bothering you.”

“I’m fine. Really.”

The same way Slade had said he was fine.

His gut clenched. He needed to be the one who got to Slade first—before anything really bad happened to him.

* * * *

“Valeena!” Slade knocked frantically on the motel room door. “Please, Valeena, let me in!”

It was yanked open. An enraged, large black man with his pants undone towered over Slade.

“What the fuck do you want? Huh? I’ll be done with her ass in five then you can have at it. In the meantime shut. The fuck. Up.”

He slammed the door with brute force, the windows rattling. Slade glanced around nervously. The cops would be looking for him, they could be anywhere. He crouched down behind one of the bushes up against the seedy motel. It was just off the Strip and was the place they always used to take their dates. Julio rented five rooms by the week and number six was Valeena’s.

After a short while, Valeena’s trick left and Slade waited until he drove away before coming out from behind the plants. He was just about to knock again when the door flung open. Valeena’s eyes went wide at the sight of Slade’s arms raised, the cuffs holding them together at the wrist.

“Oh
shit
. Did a john do that to you?”

He pushed past her, anxious to get inside to what suddenly seemed like sanctuary.

“No. Cops. Close the door.” His voice was shaky, adrenaline still pumping through him.

She did as he asked then shut the light off before peeking through the curtains.

“Fuck, Slade. Do you think they followed you?”

“I don’t think so.”

She turned to him in the darkness, the glow from the lights outside seeping in underneath the ratty curtains.

“Are you sure? Because if you’re not, I’m hauling my narrow ass out the bathroom window.”

“Um, pretty sure. I kneed the cop who had me really good.”

Valeena burst into musical peals of laughter. “Oh, man, why do I always miss the good stuff? I woulda loved to have seen that.”

Slade allowed himself a lopsided smile. “Any chance we can get these things off me?” He held up his imprisoned hands, shaking them.

She walked over to the nightstand then turned the lamp back on. “I can’t.” She scrunched her eyebrows together. “But I bet Samson can.”

Samson was a client of Valeena’s, one of her regulars. He ran a questionable business that seemed to involve the need for opening a lot of locks that didn’t have keys. Slade had never questioned her much further than that. She fished around in the drawer of the nightstand that was filled with condoms, lube, lipstick, loose bills and other assorted and sundry items until she pulled out her burner phone.

After plopping on the bed and yanking her short silky robe around her, she punched some buttons. Holding the cell to her ear, she winked at Slade.

“Don’t worry. Now sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

He perched on the only chair in the room, his stomach still twisting, his nerves still frayed. As soon as Samson picked up she babbled excitedly to him, obviously softening him up before she hit him with a favor. He’d never heard her talk with such enthusiasm to a client before—she was much better at acting with the tricks than he was.

While he waited for her to get to the point with Samson, he ran through his mind all that had happened with the cop from whom he’d escaped. A new emotion surfaced from inside him—one he’d thought had been tamped down effectively. He felt bad. Guilty. He knew he shouldn’t, his survival had been at stake. But it really had seemed as if the cop cared. There’d been something about him that had come across as good and kind. Not like the asshole cops or almost every other person he’d met in the past few years—along with his own so-called family. Only Valeena had ever been there for him.

He tuned back into her conversation, but her voice had dropped lower and she was angled away from him. It was like she was…cooing or something.

Gross.

Staring down at the silver bracelets locked on his wrists, he recalled how the cop had been so worried that he might have hurt Slade, how he’d cuffed him in the front so that he wouldn’t add to the pain. It had really only been Harold’s bruises that had bothered him, but he’d used it to his advantage. Once he’d been restrained from the front instead of the back, it had made it that much easier for him to get away.

He squirmed in the chair. It wasn’t his fault, he’d had no choice but to strike out at the cop to get away, the man hadn’t listened to him. Slade didn’t want to let his thoughts go any further than that. One of the worst things he or any of the other sex workers could do was allow themselves to wish for something more, something real. It had to remain fake no matter what or else the pain of longing could destroy a person.

But if I were ever to have someone to love…

There it was again. Those damn stinging tears. There’d been far too many times recently where they’d threatened to take over. It was pointless to think that a hot guy who led a decent life would want anything to do with a throwaway like Slade. His bottom lip quivered even as he attempted to squash his feelings back down. He jumped as Valeena’s excited voice cut through his musings.

“He’s on his way.” She was grinning, actually grinning. Her face fell. “Hey, what is it? You look really sad…or something.”

Slade shrugged. It seemed as if the energy had been sucked out of him. He wished he could lie down and sleep for days, keep all the thoughts swirling around in his brain at bay for a while.

“Don’t worry, Slade. Samson will take care of it.”

Slade grunted. “Shit. He gonna take care of Julio too? I’ll never have enough to give him for tonight. I’m fucking screwed. I lost all my money when that cop got me.”

“Fuck…” She’d barely whispered it. She chewed at her lip. “Maybe Samson
can
help with that too.”

Slade burst out into nearly hysterical laughter. “Excuse me? I don’t think I’m capable of that many hummers in one night—even if he could get it up that many times.” He snorted. “Or was gay.”

Valeena had a pained expression on her face, her lip chewing increasing. She twirled the tie around her robe and couldn’t meet his eyes. Something was off.

“What?”

“Don’t be mad at me, Slade.”

He wasn’t sure how much more he could handle. As hardened as he was, there’d just been too much all in a row lately.

“Please. Just tell me. I don’t want any more surprises. I gotta know what I’m up against.”

She still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Samson and I are in love. He’s been figuring out how to get me away from Julio without causing a full-on war.”

Valeena’s leaving?

He wasn’t certain that any amount of will he had left would protect him from the tears that threatened to overtake him. He’d be lost without her. He really would be all alone in the world.

I’m being selfish.

If she had a chance, she should take it. He knew she’d want him to do the same.

“I’m glad. Go. You deserve to get away from that twisted piece of shit.”

“Oh, Slade.”

She scrambled off the bed then ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Um, Valeena.”

She squeezed him tighter. “Thank you for understanding, for being such a good friend.”

“Yeah. Sure. Valeena, you’re kinda falling out everywhere.”

She straightened then yanked the belt to her robe tighter. “I don’t get you. How can you still be so shy? We’ve all seen each other naked, not to mention the dirty shit we do with complete strangers.”

“That’s different.”

She dropped back on the end of the bed. “Oh? How do you figure?”

He wriggled in the chair. “First of all, I don’t look when you—or anyone else—is naked. No offense, but I’m not really interested. Plus, it’s not polite.”

She let out a loud laugh. “Oh my God. You’re so cute.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Shut up. I am not.”

“Are too.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“And the other stuff… Well, I pretend that I don’t care. Then I have a couple Jack and Cokes afterwards and I’m fine.”

He never drank when he was with a customer despite the strong temptation to numb himself to the ugliness of his encounters. It was vital that he keep his wits about him in case they tried to pull something on him. Unfortunately, a couple of Jacks and Coke had lately morphed into a few mostly Jacks without the Coke. He consoled himself with the fact that he’d never succumbed to drugs. When he’d first gotten into the life, several fellow workers had told him it was the only way to get through the humiliation of what they did, but Valeena had stepped in and prevented him from going down that road.