Fall Gently (Red Light: Silver Girls series) (8 page)

"Why do you never call her Jackie?" Roni stepped closer. "You always call her Jacqueline."

His head pounded. The questions too much on top of everything else. He wanted to leave. He wanted to kiss her and make her shut up. He wanted to go back in time and stay out of prison and then maybe he could've saved his sister and even kept Roni out of Vince's hands.

Could've.

Would've.

Should've.

Regrets filled him.

"Dawson?"

"She never liked anyone to call her Jackie. When we were young, I'd call her that nickname and she'd..." He raised his gaze. "She'd cry when I shortened her name."

Roni pressed her hand to her stomach. "Why? I mean, it's a nickname and a common one for someone named Jacqueline."

He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. "She wanted everyone to know she was a girl and believed if people heard the name boys are called, they'd think she wasn't pretty."

Roni covered her mouth and shook her head. He swallowed down the tightness choking him. There was only one reason his sister let Roni call her by a name she detested.

Jacqueline either felt ugly or wanted other people not to pay attention to her for her looks. Probably both.

"God, poor Jack—Jacqueline," whispered Roni. "She was rebelling against Vince. She wanted him to leave her alone and not send her out on the street every night. So, she picked the name she thought would make him see her differently and not as useful."

He nodded.

"I'm so sorry." Roni approached him and stroked his arm. "I should've asked sooner. I never would've kept calling her by that name."

Touched at her understanding, he lowered his head and kissed her. He went in softly, prepared to pull away at the first brush of his lips, and yet when he made contact, Roni's hand brushed his jaw.

He opened her lips and took her warmth. A taste, so powerfully potent of wintergreen, his rapid heartbeat accelerated, and he stroked his tongue in sync with hers. On equal ground, neither one taking and both of them giving the comfort they so desperately needed.

He kissed her softly, weaning himself away, and laid his forehead on hers. "Don't ever try to manipulate me by my dick, sweetheart. If you want me, honest-to-fuck want me, then you show me in other ways. I'm not a customer, and I'm not Vince."

"This doesn't mean anything," she whispered.

"You can lie to yourself and blame our kiss on our mutual connection with my sister and everything that's happening, but you know that's not true." He exhaled harshly. "I don't know what is going on between us or how I feel about that kiss—except it was damn good, and I wouldn't mind staying here and doing it again, but I do know that I'd never use you, and I expect the same respect back."

He pulled his head back and straightened to his full height. "I'll let you have your free time to yourself. I've stayed too long. If you need to talk to me, use the phone I gave you."

Roni half turned and raised her hand to her mouth. She bit down on her nail, glanced at him, and lowered her arm. After a day of working, Roni stood overwhelmed with what happened tonight and he regretted coming.

He pulled out his phone, typed on the screen, and put the cell back in his pocket. One way or another, she'd need to get used to him because he planned to take her back to Seattle to start her life over again.

He needed to back off before he caused more damage than good.

The door swung open, and Jeremy stuck his head in the room. "Ready?"

"Yeah." He turned to Roni, kissed her forehead, and whispered, "Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

She only frowned.

He walked out of the room, out of the building, and out into the night. Against the brick wall of the Sterling Building, he took his first big breath since he'd received the news of Jacqueline's murder. He would save Roni, even if it meant taking her against her will and forcing her to start over.

T
he floor of Roni's bedroom vibrated from the music downstairs in Silver Girls. She sat on the bed cross-legged, Googling apartments in Seattle on the cell Dawson had given her. Dawson sat in the chair five feet away looking at his phone. After he'd arrived at the bordello and asked her how she was doing, he'd fallen into silence until she decided searching studio apartments at depressing prices kept her from staring at Dawson.

The Lifesaver she held on top of her tongue burned, and she put the mint against her cheek. She glanced over at Dawson, curious to know what he found interesting on his phone.

His dark brows cocked as he stared at the screen intently, oblivious to her. She studied the slight cowlick at the corner of his forehead. Jacqueline had the same uplift and the same dark eyes that held secrets. She should've recognized him the moment he'd stepped into her room the first time, but his size and stoic demeanor distracted her.

"Are you going to stare at me all night?" He looked up without lifting his head.

She looked away. "I wasn't."

"Right." He grinned, and the friendly face took her by surprise.

She uncrossed her legs and walked over to the sliding glass door behind him to get away from his observations. His attention unsettled her. She licked her bottom lip, unable to get yesterday's kiss off her mind. Last night, she'd even dreamed of him kissing her. Instead of stopping, he'd continued and taken her to bed. The moment her back landed on the mattress, she'd woken. Her bad mood at the interruption, before she could find out what else he'd do, extended throughout the day and into the evening toward her customers.

She couldn't even remember which men visited her room.

Snow fell softly outside the building. She used the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe the moisture off the glass. While the room stayed toasty against the freezing temperature, the sliding door fought the cold. There was even another foot of snow piled on the balcony after Jeremy came and shoveled two days ago.

She glanced over her shoulder and tried to peek at the screen on Dawson's phone. He kept too much about his personal life private. She had a hard time believing the Sparrows members who weren't arrested when the women working for Vince were picked up and hauled off to jail hadn't banded together.

Maybe he was in constant contact with the remaining members who were free.

The unknown petrified her.

"If you spent four years in prison, how are you surviving without money?" she asked.

He put his phone on his thigh. "Never said I didn't have money."

"You do?"

He nodded. "If you want to ask questions, how about getting out from behind me so I can talk to you."

She skirted his chair and sat back on the bed, pulling her feet off the floor. His mouth remained relaxed, and she hoped her question wouldn't anger him.

"I told you I chopped cars for Sparrows before spending time in prison." He stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles. "I had money in a secret holding with Sparrows and Vince was supposed to dole out Jacqueline's monthly allowance from that. For some reason, he never touched the money. Maybe he planned to withdraw the cash later and never had a chance. I don't know. But, the money is there, and I'm using it."

"The police never found it when they investigated Sparrows?"

He shook his head. "There are things surrounding Sparrows that nobody knows about, including the police. My money is safe."

"Are the men going to rebuild without Vince?"

"There's talk. As of right now, that's all it is." He tilted his head. "If you have something you need to know, just ask."

She moistened her lips and shoved her hands under her thighs. "If they get the organization going again are you joining them?"

Dawson latched his hands behind his head. "If they chop, I might. If they continue with Vince's vision for Sparrows, I won't. Even I have my limits and selling girls isn't something I want involved in."

"I see..." She looked away.

"No, you don't." He waited until she raised her gaze and continued. "It has nothing to do with my sister or you being involved. I'm not a man who believes women should be used as tools in a dangerous game."

"Yet, you belonged to Sparrows when Vince kept women on the streets and held me inside his house." She got off the bed. Her room suddenly too small and confined.

Dawson stood. "I never knew about you."

"But you knew about the other women. The women who stood on the corners in our district," she snapped at him. "Even if you had no one involved that you knew, you had free reign to use those women as a member of Sparrows. You could've used me. Maybe you did, and I don't remember. You never paid, because you were better than me. Vince thought he'd let his men sample—"

"Stop." He closed his eyes a moment, and when he opened them again, they were filled with pain. "I wasn't involved with the women. The chop shop took all my time."

"Oh, that makes you above using a prostitute. I see...and don't tell me I don't." She gasped at the sound of her high voice.

She'd never spoken back to Vince. Even monotone replies awarded her with a slap across the face if she even hinted at disagreeing with him or questioning his order.

Dawson approached her. She stiffened.

He laid his hands on her shoulders. "I'm many things, Roni, but I'm not a rapist, and I don't use women because somebody told me the girls are free for the taking. I have no way to prove it to you except over time as you get to know me better. You'll learn that you can trust me."

She shrugged off his touch. "I don't want to talk about it anymore, anyway."

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

"Not about you." She sat down on the bed. The back and forth between them made her nauseous. Promises and self-recommendations meant nothing to her.

"Then talk about something else."

She grabbed the pillow and hugged it to her middle. "What does your apartment look like?"

He chuckled. "It's a place to sleep."

"So is my room, but I could tell you there's a crack in the sheetrock inside the closet, and when I look out the window, all I can see are mountains. The third board from the door on this side creaks. At night if one of the other ladies gets up to use the toilet, the pipe in my bathroom makes noise."

He sat on the edge of the bed, too close to her. She pulled her feet underneath her crossed legs.

"There's two bedrooms. Most of the windows face the street, except my bedroom window gives me a view of the alley. It's harder than hell to sleep at night because of the nightclub at the corner. There are people around all the time. Not in my apartment, but in the other ones in the building. In the summer if it's hot, it's miserable. I either have to open the windows and put up with the noise or sweat to death." He leaned back and braced his weight on his elbows, half lounging on her bed.

His flat stomach outlined under his T-shirt. Her stomach fluttered, and she squirmed. "Did Jacqueline live in that apartment with you?"

She had to keep talking to hide her racing heart. He scared her. Everything he represented struck fear in her. And yet, she needed to know more about him.

"Yeah. All her stuff is still there in her room." He glanced at her. "She'd want you to have everything. There're clothes—you look about the same size—and she's got a car.

Roni's chest tightened, and she hugged the pillow tighter. Dawson couldn't give away what was a part of Jacqueline's life and pretend she never existed.

"I'm sure there are things you can wear for job interviews and help you get away from prostitution," he added.

"I'm not going to Seattle with you." She waited until he looked at her. "Besides my friendship with Jacqueline, which was built out of necessity for both of us to survive Vince's hold on us, wasn't what you'd call true friendship. You know that, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"I lived on the streets before Vince convinced me to go home with him. My childhood consisted of a stepfather who decided since my mom wasn't alive he could use me for stand-in sex. When I couldn't take anymore, I dropped out of school and ran away. I lived in homeless shelters by night and walked more miles than I ever thought possible in the daytime to keep myself safe from predators. But the biggest predator of all found me. Vince took me home and flaunted me in front of the women who he put out on the street corners prostituting and took delight into claiming I was his by only allowing members of Sparrows to get their dick sucked by me as if my golden pussy held some magical hold over him." She laughed bitterly. "Do you want to hear the really sick part?"

Dawson sat up and fisted his hands. She couldn't wait for him to inquire about more because she had to tell him. He needed to understand she wasn't a friend of his sisters but a whore. That he wasted his time trying to help her because she deserved nothing from him.

"I've worked for the last nine months for the Network, and I only give blowjobs to the customers. I don't have sex with them, because Vince forbid any other man to take what was his. Even though when I left he had no idea where I went and now he's dead, I'm still only sucking dick and saving myself for him because I've been hit in the head, stomped on, paraded naked, and abused until the thought of sex makes me violently sick." She gasped for breath. "Your sister was not a whore. She was in love with Vince, and even though I stood in her way because of where Vince forced me into his life, she continued to love him. He only sent her out to the corners because he convinced her if she loved him and wanted to stay with him, she'd do him one more favor. One more favor turned into two and three, and Vince got off on using her. He loved rubbing her face in the fact that it was me he was fucking and slept in his bed, not Jacqueline. So, don't sit there acting like you know what your sister would want. She was too good for this life and despite the way I had to act, she was the one who took care of me when I hurt too much to get out of bed, and she cleaned the blood off my face after Vince took his anger out on me. But, I was not Jacqueline's friend. A friend would never—"

"Fuck," he said, exhaling loudly.