Tap'd Out Page 4

  It was common knowledge that Naomi had been a Pedro, an Air Force helicopter pilot who specialized in combat search and rescue missions. Eagle knocked her up right before her tenure was over, so when her contract ended, she came home. She was strong, capable, intelligent, and tenacious as fuck because Pedro jobs were difficult to come by, especially for women. However, there was one thing about her I didn’t know. “How are you adapting?” I asked.

  She frowned. “What do you mean? To civilian life?”

  Her question simplified the struggle too much. Shaking my head, I tried again. “You were at the top of your game, leading a crew that depended on you. Pedros have hero complexes, you all need to swoop in and save the day. Literally. Yet you gave it all up. Now, you’re here, jobless, sitting in a club for military veterans that you can’t join since you were born without a dick. How can you possibly be content?”

  “Content?” She snorted. Glancing down, she rubbed a hand over her belly, drawing my attention to the growing baby bump. “I’m bored out of my fuckin’ mind. I grew up in this club, I served my country, and I know more about bikes than most of the members. I’m torn between the desire to take my place and the fear that integration could change the club into something I don’t want to be a part of anymore. When I was in the service I always knew what to do, but now I’m floundering. I feel guilty about leaving my crew, and then I feel guilty about that guilt and wonder if it makes me a bad mom. But I had to leave. I couldn’t have stayed.”

  “Why not?” I asked. There were plenty of parents in the service, and the Air Force would have bent over backwards to keep a skilled pilot.

  Her gaze drifted to a bottle of Jack Daniels, betraying her desire for a drink. Instead, she sipped from her water, making a face. “One of our last missions went sideways. We were attacked and I lost some of my PJs, my pararescuemen. One was a good friend by the name of Max Stevenson. He had a wife and a two-year-old little boy who thought his daddy hung the moon. I delivered the news myself, and I’ll never forget the look on Mikey’s face when Jamie told him his daddy wasn’t coming home.” Her hand splayed protectively across her belly. “I’m sure you know Link and I grew up without a mom, and I won’t do that to my kid.”

  I had to respect her motivation. Especially considering my own situation. No doubt Hailey would eventually ask about her mom, and I’d have to come up with something to tell her. Shoving that problem to the back of my mind where it belonged, I raised my water bottle in toast. “You’re gonna make one hell of a mom, Naomi.”

  Grinning, she tapped her bottle against mine. “Thank you, Tap. I do believe that’s the first honest thing you’ve said to me.”

  She wasn’t wrong. I should be worried that she could see through my bullshit, but instead I returned her smile, drank my damn water, and kept my mouth shut until the officer meeting wrapped up.

  Sasha

  One Week ago

  I WAS IN over my head.

  Not at first. Even though I was jacked up on Ecstasy and hornier than I’d ever been in my life, Breaker was right where I wanted him. And it wasn’t like I got nothing out of our exchange. I’d never felt sexier nor more wanted than I did when he carried me into the bar’s office, unable to wait until we got somewhere more appropriate. He had a taste of me to satiate his hunger, but I made damn sure he wanted more. I teased and flirted for all I was worth until he planted my ass on the back of his bike and took me to his room at the ratty old motel the Serpents had fenced off and turned into their compound.

  My seduction of Breaker was going even better than anything I could have planned, and I thought I’d hit the jackpot. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was finally doing something to make a difference. Strangely enough, while on suspension from my job, I was finally able to do it.

  But the next morning, I felt like shit. I awoke naked in Breaker’s bed, hating myself for what I’d done. I wasn’t upset about screwing Breaker—after all, that was part of the plan—I was pissed about how much I’d enjoyed it. Not only did I spread my legs for the enemy, but I got off on every depraved, sinful thing he did to my body.

  The burden of my task settled around my shoulders, threatening to cripple me under its weight. What the hell was I doing here? As a cop, I hadn’t been able to do shit about the Serpents. What did I really expect to do as a civilian posing as a whore? What if my suspicions about Sergeant Wilkens were correct and he’d reported me to the Serpents? I’d disguised myself, but was it enough? Anxiety sped up my heart and made me wonder how quickly I could find my clothes and get the hell out of there.

  These emotions aren’t real. I’m coming down from the high.

  The realization was enough to make me catalog my symptoms. Fatigue, depression, anxiety, confusion, difficulty concentrating, I mentally checked off each box.

  This is awful. Why do people willingly take this shit?

  Breathing deeply, I meditated until my emotions were back under control and reassessed the situation. Breaker was snoring loudly beside me. Limited morning light shone through the curtains, showing me more of his rugged features. The lines of his face and the fullness of his beard made him look older than his twenty-seven years. I was only a year younger, but I’d always looked young for my age which was probably why he’d been attracted to me.

  Last night, I hadn’t learned anything about Breaker outside of the fact that he liked being on top, and I certainly hadn’t heard anything about the missing girls. I needed to provide him with enough motivation to keep me around until I found out what was going on. Desperate to please him and start this day out in my favor, I wrapped my lips around his cock and woke him up in the best way possible. He let me be in control for a few minutes before grabbing the back of my head and forcing himself down my throat. Surprised, I tried to push off, but he held me there until my eyes watered and I started to gag.

  Once again, the asshole was showing me who was in charge.

  My entire body was sore, but he didn’t care. As he flipped me over onto the bed, he was ruthless, violent, everything he’d been last night. Only now I was sober and there was nothing sexy or empowering about having my face shoved into the mattress and my ass hiked into the air. Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wanted to tell him no—to tell him to get off me—but the words froze on my lips. The second I said no, this became rape, and I wouldn’t give a lowlife like Breaker the satisfaction of raping me.

  Besides, I was right where I needed to be.

  Reminding myself that I’d started this by walking into The Serpent’s Nest I bit my lip against the cries of protest that wanted to rip free. By sitting on Breaker’s lap and accepting the spiked drink he gave me, I’d signed up for this. By letting him carry me into the office and fuck me on the desk, I’d given him permission. By waking him up with my lips around his cock, I’d started the launch sequence and encouraged lift off.

  But no matter how many times I lied to myself, I was never really in control and this wasn’t consensual.

  This is acting. Just act. Play the part.

  I wondered if this was how my mother felt every time she spread her legs for a John. Did she ever keep control? Or did they wrestle it away from her, too? This was just a taste of what she went through, and I didn’t like it one bit.

  No wonder she started using.

  When Breaker finished with my body, he slid his jeans back on and told me to get dressed. Hoping he was done with me, but also praying he’d let me come back, I did as I was told. Then I followed him out of his room and beyond the club’s common area. Rather than heading out front, he led me down the stairs into a basement.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as a feeling of dread crept up my spine.

  He gave me a smirk. “You’ll see.”

  And boy, did I ever. We marched past a prospect who was standing guard and into a basement that had been converted into what looked like jail cells, each complete with a sink, a toilet, and a couple of ratty cots. There were at
least six girls in each of the cells. Their clothes were little more than rags and their eyes were hollow, their expressions lost. They shrank away from the bars as we approached, retreating deeper into their cells. I searched their faces, trying to connect the battered, dirty mugs with the girls on the photographs on the “Missing” posters. I’d bet money that the mousy girl curled up in the corner on the left was Alicia Nunez.

  Does he know I’m a cop? Am I busted? Why is he showing me this?

  As my muddled brain tried to process the scene, searching for exits, and wondering how I could free the girls, Breaker unlocked one of the cells and flung me in. Realizing what he was doing, I grabbed onto his arm, refusing to let go. I pushed against him until both of my feet were on the outside of the bars.

  He laughed. “What’s wrong, babe? I told you I was dangerous, and you said you could handle yourself.” The side of his lips rose in a sneer. “You handled yourself, all right. Best pussy I’ve had and I’m not about to give it up yet. I’ve got shit to do, so you can stay down here until I’m ready for more.”

  I couldn’t let him lock me up. Fighting through the panic that squeezed my chest, I grappled for the confidence I’d seen in my mom. Forcing myself back into character, I joined Breaker in his laughter, making him look at me like I was crazy. “You’re kidding, right?” I asked.

  His expression sobered as he gestured at the cells filling the basement. “Does this look like a fuckin’ joke to you?”

  I glanced around, coming up with a plan. “No, but neither do you. You’re a smart man who’s obviously been doing this a while. I bet you research your victims to make sure you don’t take anyone too valuable. Wouldn’t want those pesky authorities to come knockin’ on your door, would ya?”

  His expression morphed into something cocky and self-assured. “You think I give a fuck about pigs? That I don’t throw them enough bacon to stay in their pen and out of my shit?”

  My mind sputtered over the reference, trying to figure out what he meant. Cannibalism? Payouts? What was he trying to say? I hated it when people mixed their metaphors; it confused the shit out of me. Regardless, it was clearly time to step up my act again. I released my death grip on his arm and splayed my fingers across his chest. “We were… busy last night, so you must not have researched me. I’m not some young girl with daddy issues who people will think ran away. I have an office job at an architectural firm with a powerful, well-connected boss who depends on me. And it won’t be difficult for him to find me. Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to go into a place like The Serpent’s Nest without telling anyone?”

  He stiffened.

  I traced my fingertips across his collarbone, down his chest, and looked at him beneath my lashes. “I came into your bar looking for a good time. You gave me what I wanted, but it was so good I want more. But if I don’t show up for work in a couple of hours, my coworker will call the cops and tell them where I went last night. And although I have no doubt you can handle the police and their questions, why would you want the bother? There’s no need.” I leaned closer, planting kisses up his Adam’s apple as my hand dropped down to rub against his length. “If you want some little bitch in a cage, you’ve got several here to choose from, but if you want another shot at the best pussy you’ve ever had, you’ll let me walk out of that door so I can come back and give you some more.”

  “But you’ve seen this place,” he said. I could feel him growing hard again through his jeans. The man was insatiable.

  “So.” I shrugged. “You think I give a single fuck about your little pleasure dungeon or whatever this is?” Grinding against him, I added, “It’s actually kind of hot.”

  His eyes darkened. “Is it now?”

  No. It was sick and depraved, and made me want to nail his balls to the wall. Trying to sell my lie like my life depended on it—because I was pretty sure it did—I nodded. “Yes. Why don’t you take me back upstairs to your room and give me another round of this giant, hard cock before I have to leave for work? Then you can let me know when you want me back for more.”

  I was putting the ball in his court, returning some of the power I’d stripped away when I hadn’t let him throw me in the cage, and hoping it would be enough to mollify his enormous ego. His gaze drifted toward the bars he’d been trying to lock me behind, and I said a silent prayer that he’d buy my act. If he didn’t, I was screwed. I should have been smart enough to tell someone where I was going, but I didn’t exactly have anyone I could trust.

  Breaker hesitated for a moment. Then he moved so fast he was almost a blur. I found myself trapped between his body and a hard concrete wall with the business end of a pistol pressed into the soft flesh beneath my chin, angled at my skull.

  “You think you’re smart,” he spat, digging the gun in deeper. His icy blue eyes stared into me with a promise of violence that made me tremble. “Hope you’re smart enough to keep your mouth shut so I don’t have to paint this fuckin’ wall with your brain.”

  Adequately cowed, I muttered, “I… I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

  He held me there for what seemed like eternity before a grin stretched across his face. “You’re damn right, you won’t.” Holstering the gun beneath his cut, he let me go. “I think me and you are gonna have a good time together, Sasha.”

  I’d had about all the “good time” I could handle. On shaky feet I followed Breaker out of the Serpents’ basement, wondering what the hell I’d gotten myself into.

  ***

  Still wearing the tank top and mini skirt I’d squeezed into last night, I sat in my car, parked in front of my apartment, staring out the windshield and wondering what to do. I’d been in this exact position since I took an uber home over an hour and a half ago, and I was no closer to an answer.

  I’d found the missing girls.

  I was still trying to wrap my mind around what I’d seen in the Serpents’ basement. The cells… the cots… nothing about that situation looked permanent. The room had reeked of sex, which meant the bikers were probably doing whatever they wanted with those poor girls as they waited to move or sell them. I needed to free their victims before they disappeared for good.

  In a perfect world, I’d go to my sergeant and tell him what I’d found. But here in reality, I’d gone behind his back, while suspended, to do the very thing he’d taken my badge for.

  Sorry, sir. I know you told me to stay away from the Serpents, but I dressed like a hooker and walked into their bar to seduce one. He drugged me and we had crazy monkey sex before he took me down to his dungeon and tried to throw me in a cage.

  The chance of him listening to me was probably about as good as the chance of me keeping my job. But dreading my inevitable unemployment was not what kept me from reporting what was going on in the Serpents’ basement.

  “You think I give a fuck about pigs? That I don’t throw them enough bacon to stay in their pen and out of my shit?”

  Breaker had been so confident, so unafraid of getting caught, that I couldn’t help but wonder why. We’d been dealing with this influx of missing girl cases for months, and I was the only one who openly suspected the Serpents. How many girls had been locked in that basement? I had twenty-nine missing posters hanging behind my desk, but those were only the ones with friends or family members who cared enough to file a police report. Homeless girls went missing every day, and nobody gave a shit.

  Why did Breaker show me the dungeon?

  That was the question I couldn’t get past. I didn’t fit the mold of the gang’s normal victims. I wasn’t in high school, he clearly hadn’t researched me or he would have found out I was a cop. And, I’d approached him, not the other way around. Yet, he’d shown me the basement and tried to lock me up with the other girls. Breaker wasn’t stupid or careless. He wouldn’t have made a move like that without a certain level of confidence his ass was covered.

  He had people who’d protect him.

  I didn’t want to believe the force was dirty, but it would ex
plain so much: why Wilkens had a coronary over me looking into the Serpents, how evidence against the club seemed to always disappear, why none of their cases went to court.

  Why so many witnesses had ended up dead.

  The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Goosebumps sprouted up my arms as I mentally ran through the recent Serpent cases I’d been looking into. How many anomalies could be explained away by a police partnership? I thought about marching back into my house, firing up my laptop, and continuing my research, but no doubt Wilkens was still monitoring my access.

  Besides, I had other shit to worry about. Before releasing me, Breaker had made me promise to come back after work this evening. If I didn’t show up at the compound in ten hours and forty-two minutes, he was going to come looking for me.

  There had to be someone at the department I could call. Surely they weren’t all dirty. But who could I trust? I’d heard far too many stories to pretend bad cops didn’t exist. There was an officer in Vegas who used to troll the streets for prostitutes then threaten to haul them in for some bogus charge if they didn’t give him a blow job. Mom was terrified of him.

  Power isn’t some magical energy that completely changes a person. It’s more like a megaphone that amplifies whatever’s inside. Assholes will be assholes, whether they wear a crown or clean toilets for a living. And unfortunately, I knew quite a few assholes who only chose the badge because they lacked their own country to rule over.

  What about an anonymous tip?

  Anonymous tips could be submitted through the department website. Since I knew how easy IP addresses could be tracked, I wouldn’t use my laptop to submit the tip. I’d go to the library and use one of their computers.

  And what could I write? Who would see it? Would the department bury it? Would it get back to Breaker? He’d suspect me. Then what?

  I’d be of no use to those girls or the department if Breaker found out I snitched.