The Virgin Duet Read online

  I pick up the cash and count it out. Jesus, he left me a thousand dollars. Picking the phone back up, I hold my finger over Bray’s cell number. I want to call him, but I don’t want to seem needy or desperate or something. I hate how this is making me feel. Why am I like this with him? Shit. It’s nine thirty already. I’m going to be late to meet Sam.

  Quickly grabbing my work pants and sneakers, I slide them on, and tuck one of Vanilla’s dress shirts into the pants. It’s all I’ve got, and will have to do until I make it back to the motel to grab my stuff.

  It only takes me thirty minutes to make it across town using a cab with the cash Bray left me. I have the cabbie drop me off down the street from the motel so I can grab some donuts at the coffee shop nearby. When I finally make it to our room, I’m disappointed Sam isn’t here. Shit. I hope he got my message.

  Dropping the donuts down on the bed, I pull out my new phone and call him, but it goes straight to voicemail. Double shit.

  Heading to the bathroom, I start packing up my stuff. I guess I’ll just leave him a note. Then it dawns on me that I can text him.

  Me: It’s Becs. Got a new phone.

  Sam: Sorry I missed your call last night. Tried to call back but number came up unavailable.

  Me: You coming home soon? Lots to talk about.

  Sam: I’m busy. I got a job.

  Me: Job?

  Sam: Don’t worry about it.

  Lovely—the kind of job he won’t talk about.

  Me: Call me tonight?

  Sam: Ya, going to Palm tonight. You should just come by. I’ll be there at 9. Miss your face.

  Me: I’m working tonight.

  Sam: I’ll call you or see you tonight. g2g.

  Rolling my eyes, I slide the phone back into my pocket. He doesn’t need to go to the Palm. I think Nico’s family owns the place or something. He lets some of us sneak in the back because we aren’t old enough to get in. I stopped going because Nico would just stare at me. I used to have a blast there dancing all night, but it got weird after a while.

  Grabbing the rest of my stuff, I phone for a cab before making my way to the front desk and paying for the next two weeks’ rent. I need to know that no matter what, Sam has a place to crash.

  The rest of the day flies by. I loaded Bray’s fridge up with all kinds of different foods. I may have gone a little overboard at the store but I was just so excited about trying out some of the recipes I marked down last night. I found enough recipes to make dinner for the next five days.

  Tonight I decided on crusted chicken with bacon and green bean casserole, and homemade mac and cheese. Then bread pudding for dessert. It’s a meal of comfort food and I know that’s something I could use right now. Setting the table, I bring all the food out at ten till seven, knowing he’ll be home any time like his note said. Vanilla doesn’t seem like someone who would be late for anything.

  I went through and cleaned the penthouse the best I could, but there really wasn’t much to do. Besides the mess I made last night—that he already cleaned up—all I could really do was dust. I had extra time, so I unpacked all my stuff, though to be fair I don’t have much. I can’t wait to see his face when he sees I unpacked it in his room, closet, and bathroom. I even put my giant glittery Tinkerbell alarm clock on the side of the bed I slept on last night. He didn’t really give me any details as to what I should be doing. I know he said ‘dinners’, but if he wants me here full time, there has to be more he needs me to do.

  When the clock hits ten after seven I decide to call him. I try his cell first, but after one ring it goes to voicemail. What is with everyone ignoring me when I call? Jesus. Next I try his office line. Maybe he got stuck working late.

  “Spencer Holdings.” Cindy’s voice shrills into the phone.

  “Is Vanill—, ,I mean Bray, in the office?” I ask

  “I’m sorry but Bray and I are about to leave for the evening. We have a dinner reservation. Can I —” I hang up before she can finish. What the hell? He had a date but told me he would be home around seven. Maybe he didn’t plan to eat with me. The note didn’t say he did. But then why tell me when he would be home, and why say that I would be handling dinners?

  Looking over at the table, I feel my shoulders drop. What’s wrong with me? I’m not his girlfriend. I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. Glancing down, I can’t help but laugh at the stupid blouse I have on. It’s the only nice thing I own, and I use it for job interviews. The dumb thing looks ridiculous with my multi-colored hair. I put it on for him. When I was cooking the dinner, all the food was turning out so perfectly, I wanted to feel like I fit at the table when we ate. I was doing something I told myself I would never do again—trying to fit in for someone else. I was trying to belong in a world that wasn’t mine.

  Whatever.

  Making my way to Bray’s bedroom, I undress and grab a pair of ripped-up skinny jeans, my boots, and a racer-back tee that reads ‘Polite as fuck’ across my chest. I grab my shit, and head out. Looks like I’m going to the Palms after all.

  BRAY

  I lean back in my office chair and look out at the skyline behind me. I tap my pen to my lips and think about Rebecca for the thousandth time today. I sit up angrily and throw my pen on my desk. “I can’t work like this.”

  “Everything all right, Mr. Spencer?” Cindy’s voice, that I never had a problem with before, is now grating on my nerves with every syllable she speaks. How did I not notice it until Rebecca pointed it out?

  “Fine, Cindy. Please close the door on your way out.”

  “Actually I was coming in to let you know I made reservations at Bella Vita if you’re ready to call it a day.”

  This was unusual. I don’t eat out at restaurants unless it’s unavoidable. For some reason, her presumptuous statement irritates me.

  I look down at my watch and see that it’s seven fifteen. I can’t bring myself to go home and see Rebecca yet. My note said seven, but I’m taking the coward's way out and waiting until she’s asleep. The darker secret, the one I’m not willing to admit to myself, is I’m waiting until she’s asleep so I can sneak in and lie beside her again like last night.

  “No, thank you. Please feel free to enjoy the reservation yourself if you want to. I’ll be here a bit longer.” I don’t have the mental energy to deal with Cindy right now, so I let it go. With that I turn back around and face the city.

  I hear her close the door behind me, and if I’m not mistaken she says something under her breath. I don’t know what it was, but for some reason I feel like it has to do with Rebecca. Although every thought I’ve had today has been of her. I can’t get her out of my head, and I’m ready to scream with frustration. I can’t go thirty seconds without wondering what she’s doing in our place. ‘Our place’. My God. I turn around to my desk and put my head in my hands. I’ve got it so bad.

  I pull out my phone and check her tracker again for the tenth time in the past hour. I attached a GPS to her phone so I would know where she was at all times. I keep telling myself that was to keep her safe. I saw her leave this morning, but she only went to her old motel and then ran a few errands. I kept waiting for her to return home, and when she finally did, I could breathe a sigh of relief. That still didn’t keep me from obsessing about her all day, in fact I think it made it worse. Knowing she is in my home and around my things should give me anxiety in the worst way, but all it does was make me excited to think she’s becoming settled there.

  I’ve always had lots of anxiety about keeping a schedule and to-do lists. It’s my mind’s way of keeping control, and something I’ve always needed. Growing up, I had very loving parents, and I always knew my father loved my mother very much, but I never understood the depth of it. I think I was seven years old the first time I caught on. My mother wanted to go to the store to buy some chocolate chips to make pancakes and my father refused. I remember thinking that was really strange. Why couldn’t she go to the store? My father wouldn’t let her leave the house. Instead he mad
e her kiss him and say over and over that she loved him.

  The next time I remember something strange was on my ninth birthday and my mother was late getting back from the bakery with my cake. My father made her put the cake down and go to the bedroom with him. I heard all kinds of noises, and would later realize they were having sex. When my mother came out of the room, her face was red from crying and she was limping.

  By the time I was fifteen I knew what was happening between them. My father was so obsessed with my mother that he abused her sexually as punishment. I saw the way he looked at her. Like she was up to something, and he needed to know what. My mother was beautiful, and married my father, who didn’t have much money. I think he always worried she would leave him for someone who waved bills in her face.

  As the years went on, I felt like I had no control over the situation. The only thing I could control was me. So I became an excellent student and graduated at the top of my high school class.

  By the time I turned eighteen, I’d saved enough money from mowing lawns and doing yard work to put a deposit and six months’ rent down on an apartment three hours outside the city. I had everything in place to save her. I had it all planned out, and I was going to finally set her free. Then it all went to shit.

  “What the hell?” I say to my phone as I see Rebecca’s tracker moving. I stop. I don’t know where she’s going. I watch the phone for a few minutes and decide to wait and see what happens. I don’t want to jump to conclusions. Maybe she just forgot something at the store.

  After about twenty minutes the tracker stops moving and I look up the address. “She’s at a club?” I say aloud, and I start pacing. It only takes me one lap before I’m grabbing my suit coat and hitting the elevators. I can’t stand the thought of her in a place like the Palms. That place has a reputation for being a dump full of drug dealers and junkies.

  As I wait on the elevators I consider the possibility she went there for drugs. I shake that thought off immediately. Rebecca wouldn’t do that. I’ve watched her for months, and I see how hard she works. She was never late, always willing to pick up shifts. I checked all of that before I asked her boss about her change in behavior. But I knew it the first moment our eyes connected. She was pure. My little fairy wouldn’t do that to herself. She’s looking for protection and guidance, not trying to harm herself.

  What reason could she have for going there? I flip through my mental lists, and can only come to one conclusion. Her brother.

  I had my cop friend pull some records on this ‘brother’ of hers. I wanted to know what kind of obstacles were standing in my way, and it turns out I was right to be cautious. He’s been in and out of foster homes and juvenile detention since he could raise his middle finger. From what my source tells me, he’s got himself in debt up to his eyes with a drug dealer named Nico, who I know has ties to the bar my fairy is at right now. I don’t think Rebecca has any idea it’s as bad as it is. I’m just hoping it’s a coincidence she’s going to a club Nico’s family owns.

  Hank is waiting out front when I exit the building. It’s going to be a nightmare getting across town in traffic, but it's the best option I have.

  I slide into the back seat and watch my phone as we slowly creep down the street. Her tracker isn’t leaving the building, and that both agitates and worries me.

  I try to calm myself, and think about last night. When I walked into the house it was completely silent. My dinner with the clients went well, but I was ready to get home and talk to Rebecca. The clients ended up wanting to have more drinks and I didn’t want to send up any red flags by rushing out. So by the time I arrived home it was after midnight. My anxiety peaked at not being able to get home when I said I would, but I was able to control it by focusing on who I was coming home to.

  I walked into the bedroom and there was a soft glow coming from the nightstand. I walk over and see a Tinkerbell alarm clock and try not to laugh. I have no idea where it came from. She must have had it in her purse or something. It was quite fitting. Then I looked over and saw her in my bed, and my heart stopped. At first I was surprised to see her, and then I felt relieved. This is where I wanted her to stay and I was glad she wanted to be here too. I never specified where Rebecca would sleep when giving her the tour, but secretly I had hoped she would end up in my bed. I’ve never slept with a woman, even in the ‘just sleeping’ sense. So when I saw her there, I was surprised that it didn’t trigger any panic, it just felt right.

  She was in just my white undershirt and the covers had bunched around her ankles. Her short hair was a colorful mess, and her cheeks were pink with warm sleep. She looked so young like that. Too young to be making my cock hard. I looked at her curvy body stretched out and I couldn’t help myself. I reached my hand out and let my fingertips lightly trace down her bare leg from hip to calf. That was all I would allow myself. I knew if I had more, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

  After I allowed myself that one indulgence, I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I smiled when I entered the room and saw the mess she had made. I think I smiled the whole time I was cleaning it up, because I loved having her in my space for some unknown reason. I know she probably did it to spite me, but it had the opposite reaction. Normally my obsessive behavior won’t allow me to be calm until things are clean and in order, but I found that even while wiping up the rainbow drops on the floor I was feeling light hearted. Once I had the bathroom cleaned I went to the closet and saw she’d played in there too. I just smiled and shook my head while I put things back the way they were. My little fairy likes to be mischievous.

  I stripped down to my underwear and slipped into bed beside her. I didn’t allow myself to get close to her, because I knew I would reach for her in my sleep. My subconscious wants her so fiercely that the moment my eyes close, I’ll wrap her in my arms. Instead, I slept on the edge of the bed, looking at her beautiful face, and wishing I could hold her. I was already tempting fate by being in the same bed with her, and I could feel my obsession rising. I couldn’t allow it to take over and become like my father.

  We pull up outside the club, and I don’t wait for Hank to open my door. He gets out and I meet him I’m about to walk in.

  “You sure you want to go in here?”

  “If I’m not back in twenty minutes…” I say, as Hank interrupts me.

  “I’ll give you fifteen, sir. This place is shady.”

  Nodding at Hank, I walk up to the doorman and he eyes me up and down. He starts to protest my entrance, but I slip him a few hundreds, and he opens the door. It’s times like these when you let the money do the talking.

  The club is just as seedy as you’d imagine. There’s hardly any light, the music is deafening, and it reeks of scents I’m trying not to thinking about. As I make my way around the perimeter of the dance pit, I see a group of couches roped off in the back. Must be their VIP. I get a feeling in my chest that’s the direction I need to go in, and I walk over. Another bouncer stops me, but again, my money is the only thing they hear, and he lifts the ropes to allow my entrance.

  I take two steps inside and see her.

  Rebecca is standing in the back and Nico is in front of her. I saw his face in the pics my source sent over and it’s definitely him. He’s about as tall as I am but that’s where the similarity ends. He’s wide and big with jet black hair and dark tanned skin. He looks like a Samoan wrestler, and I can’t say I’d get in a ring with him. He looks worse in person than he does in the pictures. I wonder if he’s using the product he’s been slinging. I look through the fog of the club, and I see his hand is gripping her chin. Rebecca looks at his face with terror in her eyes, and I see red.

  My body is in motion before I have any thoughts as to what is about to happen. I’m over where they are standing in half a second and I’m taking control of the situation before I know my next move. I grab Nico’s arm and push him backwards behind me. Rebecca’s well-being is my only focus. As soon as Nico’s hands are off her, she locks eyes with me and s
tarts to cry.

  I see her tears, and scoop her up in my arms. I have a natural instinct to protect this little fairy from all the evil around her.

  When I turn to leave, I see Nico being helped up by his people, and he’s eyeing me.

  “You put down my property, and we don’t have a problem, Suit.”

  I don’t really feel like getting into a pissing match with a drug dealer in his own club, so I try to make peace. Getting Rebecca to safety is the only thing I’m concerned about.

  “I’m a friend or hers and she wants to leave.”

  “Becs, you tell this guy you’re mine, or you know the consequences.”

  Rebecca picks her head up and looks at me with wide tearful eyes. She’s pleading for me to make this situation right, to fix what’s broken.

  “How much?” I ask, never looking away from Rebecca.

  “A lot,” she whispers.

  “I didn’t say I wanted your money, Suit. I want the girl,” Nico says, and I can see we’re at an impasse. I’ve got all the money he needs, but he wants Rebecca. He can have her when he walks over my dead body to get her.

  I look over at Nico, and I can bet he’s willing to kill me for her. I have to try to think of how to resolve this. “Fine, you want the girl, you can have her.” I feel Rebecca stiffen in my arms, and then she starts to squirm.

  Nico has a smug smile on his face, and he looks at Rebecca, victory in his eyes.

  “But here’s the thing,” I say, halting her movements. “She owes me too. So until I finish taking out what I want, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait your turn.”

  Nico looks pissed, and just as he reaches into the back of his pants, Hank walks in with four of his men. Most people think I keep Hank around because he knows the city and is a good driver. The real reason I keep him is he’s good at getting his hands dirty at a moment’s notice, and can hide a body or two without questions. Hank and I go way back.