Survival
is all Slade understands until Parker saves him from the terrors of
the streets. Too bad the streets won’t let Slade go…
Hustler
Slade has had little choice over his fate. Barely twenty years old,
he’s had to survive any way he can after being thrown out for being
gay when he was still in his teens. As soon as he hit Vegas, Slade
was lured into the hopeless world of prostitution where he’s become
a virtual prisoner to his pimp, the ruthless Julio Estevez.
It’s
another typical night on the Strip when officer Parker comes across
Slade. His heart breaks every time he sees someone so young being
exploited. Yet something in Slade’s eyes tells Parker the young man
might be in real trouble—especially after the recent wave of sex
worker killings by a rival prostitution ring.
The
two men’s lives become intertwined when Slade is almost beaten to
death. The danger grows, but so does the relationship between Parker
and Slade. Parker helps Slade to heal from the horrific attack and
their bond deepens. But the human traffickers are still on the
prowl—and they’ll stop at nothing to steal Slade back.
Publisher Note: This book has been revised and expanded from the original edition that was published under the same title at Totally Bound Publishing in January of 2015.
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Pride
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“Valeena!”
Slade banged on the motel room door. “Please, Valeena, let me in!”
The
flimsy door flew open. A large, enraged black man with his pants
undone towered over Slade.
“What
the fuck do you want? Huh? I’ll be done with her ass in five then
you can have at it. In the meantime, shut. The fuck. Up.”
He
slammed the door with brute force, the windows rattling in response.
Slade glanced around nervously. The cops would be looking for him.
They could be anywhere. He crouched down behind one of the bushes up
against the seedy motel. The dump was right off the Strip and was the
place they always used to take their dates. Julio rented five rooms
by the week and number six was Valeena’s.
After
a short while, Valeena’s trick left and Slade waited until he drove
away before coming out from behind the plants. He was just about to
knock again when the door flung open. Valeena’s eyes went wide at
the sight of Slade’s raised arms, the cuffs holding them together
at the wrists.
“Oh
shit. Did
a john do that to you?”
He
pushed past her, anxious to get inside to what suddenly seemed like
sanctuary.
“No.
Cops. Close the door.” His voice was shaky, adrenaline still
pumping through him.
She
did as he asked then shut the light off before peeking through the
curtains.
“Fuck,
Slade. Do you think they followed you?”
“I
don’t think so.”
She
turned to him in the darkness, the glow from the lights outside
seeping in beneath the ratty curtains.
“Are
you sure? Because if you’re not, I’m hauling my narrow ass out of
the bathroom window.”
“Um,
pretty sure. I kneed the cop who had me really good.”
Valeena
burst into musical peals of laughter. “Oh, man, why do I always
miss the good stuff? I woulda loved to have seen that.”
Slade
allowed himself a lopsided smile. “Any chance we can get these
things off me?” He held up his imprisoned hands, shaking them.
She
padded over to the nightstand then turned the lamp back on. “I
can’t.” She scrunched her eyebrows together. “But I bet Samson
can.”
Samson
was a client of Valeena’s, one of her regulars. He ran a
questionable business that seemed to involve the need for opening a
lot of locks that didn’t have keys. Slade had never questioned her
much further than that. She fished around in the drawer of the
nightstand that was filled with condoms, lube, lipstick, loose bills
and other assorted items until she pulled out her burner phone.
After
plopping on the bed and yanking her short silky robe around her, she
tapped the screen. Holding the cell to her ear, she winked at Slade.
“Don’t
worry. Now sit down. You’re making me nervous.”
He
perched on the only chair in the room, his stomach still twisting,
his nerves still frayed. As soon as Samson picked up, she babbled
excitedly to him, obviously softening him up before she hit him with
a favor. He’d never heard her talk with such enthusiasm to a client
before—she was much better at acting with the tricks than he was.
While
he waited for her to get to the point with Samson, he ran everything
that had happened with the cop through his mind. A new emotion
surfaced from inside him—one he’d thought had been effectively
tamped down.
He
felt bad. Guilty. He knew he shouldn’t—his survival had been at
stake. But it really had
seemed as if the cop cared. There’d been something about him that
had come across as decent and kind. Not like the asshole cops or
almost every other person he’d met in the past few years—along
with his own so-called family. Only Valeena had ever been there for
him.
Slade
tuned back into her conversation, but her voice had dropped lower and
she was angled away from him. It was like she was…cooing or
something.
Gross.
Staring
down at the silver bracelets locked on his wrists, he recalled how
the cop had been so worried he might have hurt Slade, how he’d
cuffed him in the front so he wouldn’t add to the pain. His only
real pain had been from Harold’s bruises, but he’d used it to his
advantage. Once he’d been restrained from the front instead of the
back, it had been that much easier to get away.
He
squirmed in the chair. It wasn’t his fault. He’d had no choice
but to strike out at the cop to get away—the man hadn’t listened
to him. Slade couldn’t allow his thoughts to run any further away
than that. One of the worst things he or any of the other sex workers
could do was allow themselves to wish for something more, something
real. His
world and relationships had to remain fake no matter what, or else
the pain of longing could destroy him.
But
if I were ever to have someone to love…
There
it was again. Those damn stinging tears. There’d been far too many
times recently where they’d threatened to take over. It was
pointless to think that a hot guy who led a respectable life would
want anything to do with a throwaway like Slade.
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