Chapter 2
Apple made it through Kansas before everything sank in. He could have a kid. Why had Tara hidden that fact from him? He knew she was bad, but she was proving she was evil.
How the fuck was he supposed to find Amelia? Her last name started with a P. Was it Perry? No, Percy. Amelia Percy. He needed to find her.
The sun was still up, so it wasn’t late in California. He dialed the only man who he thought could help him. Thario answered on the second ring.
“Apple, what can I do for you?”
“Hey, man, I need a huge favor.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I need to find someone. Amelia Percy. I knew her years ago, long before I became a SEAL.”
“Can it wait until later?”
“Sure. It’s not an emergency. I’m on leave, about to hit Colorado. I should just come back there.”
“Heck no. Do whatever you were going to do in Colorado, and I’ll see what I can find.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. I’m glad to help.”
“I really appreciate all you do.”
“You’re welcome. I’ve got to go. I have a call in a few minutes.”
“Sure, Thario. And thank you again.”
The call disconnected, and the music he'd had on to fill the airspace came back on. It was a song about being a father. He couldn't listen and keep it together, so he shut the music off, regret filling him.
Tara had tried to steal his future in the military.
She'd stabbed him in the back and almost gotten him in deep shit.
If his CO hadn't listened to him, if they'd just assumed he'd been working with Tara, he would be in prison.
Now, to find out she'd kept the information about Amelia a secret freaking hurt.
Maybe Amelia hadn’t been pregnant. Maybe this was just another manipulation tactic to try and get under his skin. He didn’t know, but if there was a chance he had a kid out there, he had to find out.
Amelia pressed her palm against her forehead, wondering if she would ever catch a break.
Her boss, Dylan, was a freaking jerk who took advantage of them and tried to force them into prostitution.
No way would she have sex with the customers.
Beyond it being against the law, the guys were jerks.
She served drinks. Albeit the shorts she wore were crotch huggers, and her nipples were visible through the thin shirt he made her wear, but that didn’t mean she wanted sex.
“Amelia, get your skinny ass over here,” Dylan called to her.
She pasted on a fake smile and headed over, knowing he would put her with a table of jerks who thought they owned her because they paid the fee for a private waitress. She wasn’t even one of the dancers, just a waitress who kept all her clothes on.
“Yes, boss,” she said in a cutesy voice that made the customers think she was younger than she was.
She also wore her hair in two braids instead of one down her back.
It sickened her that she got better tips when she looked younger, but that money paid her bills. Surviving on her own was hard enough.
Luckily, her best friend, Dena, worked the day shift at her job and could watch Lainey at night.
Taking care of her daughter at night wasn't too hard.
At least Lainey was past the stage where she woke up in the middle of the night.
That had nearly broken Amelia. She'd worked days back then, barely bringing home enough money to feed herself and Lainey, always short on rent and no money for a car.
She'd made it work, but she was glad she could work from eight to one and make twice as much money as she had working the day shift.
“These men are special guests tonight.” There wasn't anything special about them. That was code for they paid the fee to have her as their private waitress. “Treat them real nice.”
She flashed them a huge smile, hating the way their eyes dipped to the tight shirt that did nothing to hide her body. “Yes, sir. Now then, why don’t you men follow me?”
Playing the game was part of the process, so with each step, she made sure to shake her barely covered ass, playing up her sexuality as she teased them. Teasing got her good tips, and she needed the money to pay for Lainey's last dentist visit.
They were handsy, like all the men were, but it was part of the job.
They were in the upstairs room that overlooked the dancers.
Three of the dancers would circle into this room and give the group a private dance.
Sometimes two of the dancers came at the same time.
Usually, it was just her up here with the men.
“Honey, have you ever met a CEO?”
She twirled her pigtail and shook her head.
They liked it better when she played dumb.
Every week, there was some guy here claiming to be someone from the C-suite or the owner of some made-up company.
Their work didn't mean anything to her. Plus, she knew most of them were liars.
The only thing she liked to see from them was cash.
“Well, this is Jackson. He just got a promotion, and we're treating him to a night out. We need to make sure he has a good time.”
“You got it. One of the dancers will be up here soon. What can I get you to drink?”
“How about shots off your belly?”
She laughed and waved him off. “What will you be drinking?”
They ordered a bucket of beers and shots of tequila, which was not the most expensive, but not the tequila that could be used as jet fuel, either.
They weren't being totally cheap, but they also weren't ordering top-shelf stuff.
The club had very few groups who ordered top-shelf stuff.
There was one guy who came in twice a month and sat in the corner, never touching any of the dancers, just ordered two drinks, then left after giving the dancers big tips.
After getting the drinks, she headed back up to deliver them, seeing that Dylan was leading another group up to the other party room she was in charge of. There were five men in that group, but none of the men looked happy. What was up with that?
She delivered the drinks, only getting groped twice, and told the men she would be back in a flash. Luckily, one of the dancers showed up and started wiggling her body, shaking her tits that were only covered with coconut halves.
Amelia headed to the new group, ready to take their orders. None of the men smiled or made small talk when she stepped into the room. None of them really even looked at her. She knew they could see her nipples, but they didn’t seem interested.
Only one of the men spoke, and he ordered everyone a bottle of beer. Amelia nodded and left the room, thinking that the group was one of the oddest sets of guests they'd ever had.
She checked on the first group, seeing they would need more beers in about twenty minutes. The beer for the second group was easy to get, and she was back upstairs in less than five minutes. The dancers had come in, but the men weren’t paying any attention to them.
What in the world was going on in here? She handed out the beer and turned to leave when one of the men moved to block the door. She stopped and flashed a smile, hoping she didn’t have to do anything too crazy.
“Excuse me. I need to go out and take care of the other room.”
“No.”
The word was delivered with force. “What?”
“No. You don’t get to leave.”
They had panic alarms installed in the rooms, and security was supposed to be cycling through the cameras, but she didn’t know if anyone was really watching for problems that arose. The guy wasn’t touching her, but he was blocking her exit.
“Please let me leave this room.”
“No. We’re here to get retribution. You’re coming with us.”
Amelia moved to press the panic button, but the guys were faster than she was, and suddenly, she found herself on the floor, her hands wrenched behind her back before they slapped cuffs on her wrist. She was hauled up and force-marched out of the room.
The men in the other room must have heard the commotion because they had the door open and were staring at her. A few of them were laughing.
“Help me!” Amelia screamed. The men froze, panic crossing their faces as they realized she wasn't joking.
One of them stepped from the room, but the guy who had her pulled a stun gun and dropped the guy to his knees. Her rescue was over before it even started.
“Move faster,” the guy holding her arms barked.
“I'm moving,” she tossed over her shoulder.
It must not have been fast enough because he bent and scooped her up.
She tried to escape, but her attempts were no use.
They had her. No one stopped them on the way out.
The bouncers, the security—all of them were useless.
She hoped they would at least give a description of the men to the police, not that it would help her.
They dumped her into the trunk of a car that sped away. She’d seen gangster movies where they shot the person in the trunk, leaving the car and the body to rot out in a field. She didn’t want to end up in the trunk out in the middle of nowhere.
What would they have her do? Getting home to Lainey was the only thing that mattered. Whatever they wanted, she would give it if it got her home to her daughter.
Tears gathered in her eyes. Lainey had no one.
Her own parents were gone, and she’d never heard from Avery.
Dena was her friend, but she couldn’t afford to take on the cost of raising a child.
Desperation filled Amelia. She couldn’t leave Lainey alone in the world, but if she didn’t escape, that’s what would happen.