Sin City Uniform 02 - Copping an Attitude (7 page)

BOOK: Sin City Uniform 02 - Copping an Attitude
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“Don’t go. Julio’s a very dangerous man.”

Slade’s jaw went slack again. “How do you…?”

“I’m a cop, remember? I hear things. Come with me. I’ll get you into a program that can help you. It’s too risky for you out here right now.”

“I…”

“Slade! Tell him you can hook up later, we gotta go!”

Slade put his hand over Parker’s where he still gripped him.

“Look, dude, you seem really nice, but I’m gonna be okay. I’ve got things worked out. I have a plan. I swear.”

“Slade, I don’t think you understand—”

He didn’t jerk away, but Slade made it clear he wasn’t going to stay. He pulled away then closed up his room.

“Wait—”

Jogging past Parker, he stopped when he got to the car then turned around.

“What’s your name?”

The question threw Parker off, but he quickly recovered. “Parker. Parker McLean.”

A grin lit up Slade’s face. “Thanks, Parker.”

He hopped in the back seat of the vehicle, waving out of the window at Parker as he drove away. Parker waited until the sedan had turned the corner then slowly made his way back to his own car. Once he’d sat down inside, he gripped the steering wheel, but didn’t start the engine.

There was nothing more he could do. Slade was an adult and it wasn’t up to Parker to save the world. He only hoped that Slade wasn’t one of the targets Beau had been referring to.

 

* * * *

 

He hadn’t been able to get out of the party he and Valeena had gone to. They both had to play things really cool until they made their getaways. Even so, for some reason, knowing that they were on the verge of being free of Julio and his twisted world had made everything seem more unbearable. When Slade had thought that he was trapped with no way out, he’d built up an inner shield. Any time he’d wished that his life was better, he’d pushed those feelings away, knowing that dwelling on what he couldn’t have would be pointless. But with liberty right around the corner, his defenses were dropping. Selling himself as a sex toy was no longer something he could pretend was no big deal.

It was after three in the morning. Valeena still had one more date before she could call it a night. He wondered if she was going through the same thing—where every stranger’s body she pleased filled her with agony. As if every man who violated her took away more of her soul than usual. He shuddered. He also needed a shower—a really long, thorough shower.

After he’d entered the house, he saw that Rita was in the dining room where she typically held court. It wasn’t that odd that she had stayed so late, but still not the norm. She seemed preoccupied, so he didn’t say anything to her. He went to the kitchen to get a soda.

Who am I kidding?

What he really wanted was a tall glass of Jack Daniel’s with a splash of Coke. He needed to at least give the appearance of not drinking it straight. Julio wanted his workers relaxed and fun, but not so wasted that they couldn’t perform. He also frowned on drugs. Despite the fact that Julio was a total tweaker, drug addicts were bad for his business. He wanted top dollar for his whores—bad skin and teeth or track marks just wouldn’t do.

He took a healthy swallow of his drink, the slight burn and warmth as it went down soothing his nerves somewhat. It would take a lot more to numb them. He idly wondered what it would be like to have someone touch him because Slade desired it. He ached to feel that again. The last time he’d experienced such a thing was when he’d been with Chad, his boyfriend. They’d played around, but hadn’t reached the point of intercourse.

Slade had fantasized about fucking Chad. He’d tried a couple of times, but Chad had resisted, too scared of the pain. They’d both fingered each other, but other than one encounter when he’d snuck some vegetable oil from the kitchen, there hadn’t been any slick, so it had burned. Spit hadn’t been enough on their untried assholes. The rest of their fumblings had been quick and unplanned. Both he and Chad had gone to the same church and been raised by stay-at-home moms. That, of course, was the reason they’d been caught—there hadn’t been much opportunity to be alone.

After Slade had been tossed out, he’d tried to find Chad, thinking that they could take off together, maybe build a life for themselves somehow. But his boyfriend had already been shipped off by his rich parents to some fancy reprogramming center for homosexuals. It was the first time Slade had ever been grateful for his parent’s low-income status.

Then there was that cop. He downed another good swallow of his drink.

Parker.

He had no idea why, but he liked his name. Truth be told, he liked the man too. It was more than stupid to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. Parker had been so nice to him, the cop’s genuine concern making him ache to have someone like that in his life.

He called me honey.

It had thrilled him. He wasn’t even sure that Parker had realized he’d said it—it had seemed to just fly out of his mouth without any forethought. Slade clung to it as if it was the one word that validated him as worthy of some love.

“Hey, Boy Toy.”

He fucking hated it when she called him that. Rita, a fiftyish, large Hispanic woman, was Julio’s cousin. She had sauntered into the kitchen, cigarette in hand, then had leaned against the counter.

“You’re not getting plastered, are you? Julio don’t like that.”

“No.”

He didn’t elaborate. She wasn’t owed any explanations.

“You got a new date for Friday night, an all-nighter.”

His heart pounded, his stomach clenching. He brought the glass to his lips, taking a small drink to try to steady his nerves. He regained his composure.

“Yeah?” He’d tried his best to make his tone sound blasé, as if it was of no more interest to him than any other ‘date’.

Be cool, asshole. Be cool.

She sneered at him. “Don’t get all excited. It’s not your true love Harold.”

He fought to keep from retching at the thought of such a thing.

“So? I’m sure you’ll fill me in on Friday.”

“Oh, I will. This one asked for you by name, says you gave him the number when he met you on the street. Did you fuck him already?”

Shit. What’s the right answer? Fuck.

“Uh, he, well he, uh, said he wanted me all to himself for one night. Wanted to do the whole thing where he took me out. You know, that type of gig.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, taking a long drag on her cigarette. She blew out an abundant stream of smoke. “Why would anyone want to waste their time with you other than to drill that hole or fuck that mouth?” She smashed the rest of her cigarette into the sink then tossed the butt into the trash. “Whatever. We had him checked out. He’s a rich boy, so Julio wants you to be on your best behavior. Treat him
real
good.” She sneered at him again. “But don’t get any more of your knight in shining armor fantasies. Julio already made sure that Harold won’t be a problem no more. It would be a damn shame if you became a problem for Julio too.”

She laughed with gusto, her ample breasts shaking. After one last glare, she turned then left the room. Slade’s knees went weak and a wave of nausea settled in his stomach. He put the glass of alcohol down, no longer sure he could drink it without hurling it back up. He exited the kitchen from the other side near the laundry room, then ducked down the hallway to the room he shared with Valeena. The rent boys weren’t allowed to stay together—Julio frowned on fraternizing. He didn’t want the merchandise to get worn out.

He stepped inside his bedroom, turning on the light as he did. He’d already reached for the hem of his latest sparkly tee when something on the bed caught his eye. It was a newspaper, folded carefully as if to highlight a particular story. On shaky legs, he walked over to pick it up, not entirely sure he wanted to, but compelled nonetheless.

After he lifted the paper, his gaze went straight to the small headline.

Businessman Found Brutally Murdered in Desert.

Dropping it, he ran to the bathroom down the hall, his hand clapped over his mouth. As he vomited uncontrollably, he heard the awful cackling of Rita’s laughter from the dining room.

It didn’t matter how risky it was to try to get away from Julio. He would eventually die by his hand anyway. At least with Samson’s plan, he had a chance.

 

Chapter Five

 

 

 

It had been a few days since Parker’s world had taken a left turn. His sadness over what had gone on with Brett still lingered and his worry over Slade had increased. He’d left a message with Brett that morning. It was Friday, and he’d known that Brett would be leaving to head back to Denver soon. Parker’s shift began at eight, so they still would have had time to grab a bite to eat before Brett had to head to the airport. Brett had never returned the call.

He sighed loudly as he maneuvered the cruiser onto Sahara Road toward the Convention Center. There had been a call of suspicious activity behind the parking garage for the North Hall near some dumpsters. It was after midnight and the LVCC didn’t have anything going on at that time, so it was unlikely to be anything more than a drunk passed out by the dumpster or maybe someone diving in for anything they could scrounge up.

“The world that terrible?”

As partners for a long while and buddies outside of work too, Darren knew him rather well. Parker had been off the previous two days and hadn’t felt like socializing. When Brett was in town, it was typical for them to get together with Darren and his latest girlfriend at least once for either dinner or a movie. Parker had begged off without giving a reason, and he was truthfully shocked that Darren hadn’t already grilled him on what was up.

But Parker wasn’t thinking of Brett when he responded to Darren.

“It can be.”

Darren’s joking tone ceased. “Hey, what’s up? Did you and Brett get in a fight or something?”

“Uh, sort of. We won’t be seeing each other anymore.”

“Holy shit. That sounds like more than a ‘sort of’ fight to me. Are you okay?”

Parker considered it. Was he? “Yeah, I am. I’m actually more concerned about Brett.” He frowned to himself. “And other things.”

He turned right onto Paradise Road. They pulled into the lot and he guided the vehicle at a slow pace toward the garage. He’d already switched on the cruiser’s spotlight, both him and Darren checking the surroundings for anything out of place. Parker continued their exploration as he drove to the site that he surmised would be the approximate location of the reported activity.

Once he’d made it all the way to the other side and rounded the corner where the service entrances were, he slammed on the brakes. Two large men were beating someone crouched on the ground. Whoever was being attacked was not fighting back, only protecting themselves—their body curled up and arms raised in a defensive posture. Parker and Darren leaped from the car, weapons drawn.

“Las Vegas Police!
Stop!

The assailants fired three shots at them in rapid succession and they both hit the ground. They fired answering rounds, but the men had seemed more intent on getting away than engaging them in a gun battle.

Parker lay next to Darren on the asphalt. “You hit?”

Darren lifted himself on his elbows then rolled to the side. “Nah, I’m good. You?”

“Fine.”

They worked in perfect synchronicity. Darren immediately called in for backup and medical services, and Parker ran over to check on the victim. His stomach lurched and his heart seemed to lodge itself in his throat when he recognized the distinctive tight pants and shaggy dark hair of the battered and bloodied man. It was the exact thing he’d tried to prevent.

Dropping to his knees, he fought back tears as he checked for a pulse. It was thready, but still there. If Slade was going to die in that alley, Parker wouldn’t allow his death to be cold and alone. Slade was still in a fetal position and Parker wasn’t even sure he was conscious. He crouched lower to whisper in his ear.

“Slade, honey, can you hear me? It’s Parker. Everything’s going to be okay, help is on the way. Hang on, honey, don’t give up.”

Slade’s body faced him, and he gently took one of Slade’s hands that had been curled into a tight fist. Parker registered a barely perceptible squeeze.

“That’s it, honey, you hang on. I won’t leave you. I’m staying right here.”

A small sob came out of Slade, but his swollen eyes remained shut.

“Shh. Stay still. Hear those sirens? They’re coming for you.”

Parker was suddenly aware of Darren’s presence as he stood over them.

“Is that the kid from the other night who got away?”

Darren sounded harmlessly curious, but Parker felt Slade’s hand tense.

“Darren, hold on a minute.” He leaned closer to Slade again. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be all right. I promise you.”

Slade’s hand tightened again as if in response to Parker, but he worried that Slade was still in fear of being in trouble somehow. The clatter of a stretcher and the conversing of the medics behind him signaled that he would have to let Slade go. It was crazy how much he still wanted to hold onto him.

“The paramedics are here to help you Slade, so I have to let them do their job. All that matters is that you get better. I’ll see you later at the hospital, so promise you’ll fight to hang on.”

Slade gave him one more soft squeeze then Parker loosened his grip. He rose to his feet and noted the curious stares from his partner and the EMTs. When he turned around, it was his sergeant’s gaze on him as he stood there with his arms crossed in front of him.

“Can I see you a moment, McLean?”

“Of course, Sergeant.”

He couldn’t help but take a glance over his shoulder to check on Slade as he followed Sergeant Lopez to his car. Slade seemed to be in good hands, but Parker was still terrified for him. He’d taken an awful beating.

“I’d prefer to have your undivided attention, McLean.”

Parker whipped his head around to face the sergeant. “Sorry, sir. I just…”

He had no good response, so he decided to shut up instead.

“You know him other than in an official capacity?” He arched his eyebrows.

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