Rush: The Riptide Series Book #1 Read online

  The Riptide Series

  Rush

  Part One

  By Brooke Page

  Copyright 2018

  Brooke Page

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  “Sex trafficking is a form of modern-day slavery in which individuals perform commercial sex through the use of force, fraud, or coercion. Minors under the age of 18 engaging in commercial sex are considered to be victims of human trafficking, regardless of the use of force, fraud, or coercion.”

  - Polaris:National Human Trafficking Hotline

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Resources on Human Trafficking

  Acknowledgements

  Books By Brooke Page

  Prologue

  “Once you sign this contract, there’s no turning back.”

  The tapping of his pen on the table was in sync with my bouncing knee. My palms were as sweaty as the back of my neck. I was beyond ready to seal the deal we’d finally worked out after four hours of negotiations. The distorted life I’d been a puppet in had crumbled beyond repair, and signing my life over was the only hope I had for redemption.

  It was the only way I’d get my revenge. “I understand.”

  The hard blue eyes sitting across the table stared at me intently. They held pity, but like everyone else, Riley knew the demon inside of me. I’d grown up the quiet, mysterious one, hiding behind the monster who wanted to mold me into his successor.

  But I never wanted to fit into his cookie cutter mold, and she didn’t want that either. She had faith I’d break the chains and become a better man.

  A man that might be able to escape the hell hole she selfishly brought me into.

  I didn’t see it that way, though. Protecting and saving her was my purpose, and I failed miserably. If only she knew how sorry I was. The constant ache deep in my soul was a painful reminder every damn day.

  “When the job is done, you’ll need to relocate within a twelve-hour time period. Can you manage that?”

  Nodding, I placed the tip of the pen to the paper, a tremor shaking through my hand. This wasn’t supposed to be a hard decision. They offered me nearly everything I wanted. Erasing my revolting past to give me a second chance.

  I wanted the new name.

  I needed the new beginning.

  Because the miniscule amount of good buried deep inside of me was clawing through the ugliness, desperate for a chance to rise above the pain and suffering I’d kept locked away.

  “You can take some time to think about it, but I’m afraid this is going to be your best option.”

  Closing my eyes, her pale, lifeless face flashed in my memory. Remembering the icy feeling when I touched her cheek, her dark hair stuck to her forehead from the salty water she’d been dumped in when I found her lying on the shore of the ocean. The glassed-over look in her lifeless eyes haunted my dreams, never fading when I woke.

  The vision was what I needed to fuel my hatred. He was going to pay for taking her from this world before it was her time. If meeting my maker with blood on my hands was the price to pay, it would be worth it.

  I’d avenge every damaged soul my father had stolen for his narcissistic empire.

  My trembling hand turned into rage, scribbling my name across the dotted line with force. “I don’t need time to think about it.”

  Riley’s jaw tightened as he watched me toss the pen on the table. “Congratulations. Welcome to the good side.” Standing, he straightened his sport coat and rebuttoned it, leaving me alone under the single spotlight in the empty room.

  The good side.

  There was no good side.

  At least not yet.

  Chapter One

  Vance

  “Bar’s packed.” Colt anxiously raked his fingers through his short blond hair, scanning the plethora of young and hopeless scantily-dressed women.

  Tucker rubbed his hands together, ready to put to use the skills I had taught him. Over the pumping music, he chanted, “I can’t wait!”

  We’re hunters—young, attractive, desirable, and dangerous. Designed to persuade women into making choices that would destroy their lives.

  “Don’t forget the stereotype,” I reminded, handing both Tucker and Colt a wad full of cash.

  “The outcasts. I remember,” Tucker mumbled, taking the money. “We can play with them first, right?”

  “Yes. Only if they’re willing,” I warned. “Don’t rape them.”

  “Got it,” Colt said quietly. He’d been a nervous wreck all day, paranoid about tonight and if he would be able to catch girls. He was good looking with a charming smile. No doubt ladies would be all over him, but we were specific about the girls we chose to come with us.

  Tucker gave a wicked grin, his blue eyes sparkling deviously. He wagged the little bag filled with different narcotics in front of Colt’s face. “This will help them make up their minds.”

  My eyes hardened. “Be careful with that.” I yanked the drugs from him, smacking it flat against his chest, causing an umph to escape his lips. “Don’t flaunt that shit.”

  Tucker’s face fell, grabbing the bag from me and shoving my hand away from him.

  “If you’re good, you don’t need the drugs. Come on,” I instructed, waving for them to follow me through the club. It was busy, filled with the last of the Spring Breakers. Girls would get wild tonight, knowing they were heading back to their miserable lives far away from the beach.

  Hopefully their intuition would prod them to stay away from us, otherwise, their lives were about to get even more wretched then what they already were.

  Tucker and Colt’s jobs were to find girls to work as prostitutes.

  I had a different job. One I was willing to do in order to get back at my good for nothing father. If I caught the right girl, a Dove, I’d infiltrate his twisted business, putting his ass in a cell block where he couldn’t hurt anyone ever again.

  The girl who became the Dove would endure some scars, but my hatred for my own blood overpowered my fear for the woman who would be sacrificed.

  She would be sold to a Vulture, the sickest fuckers there are in this underground world, until the FBI would intervene. It was worth the risk in my eyes. My hostility for my father was a constant knife digging into my back, slowly bleeding with an overwhelming rage of guilt.

  The bouncer gave us a nod as we passed into the back bar, loud club music making my ears throb. “Go out back,” I yelled in Tucker’s ear. “That’s where they’ll be.”

  Both of them followed me to the deck, and sure enough, a girl was staring off into space by herself, smoking a cigarette with a pout to her lips. I tilted my head in her direction. She was dressed in a tight dress, something she was obviously uncomfortable wearing considering she kept fidgeting and tugging on it near her thigh. Tucker nodded, passing by me to approach her. Colt watched, then spotted a few girls on the other side of the deck. One was shut out, a frown on her face. She clearly was o
ut of place with the group she was with, her tank top and jean shorts didn’t match the other form fitting dresses, and her hair was curled into a bun while the other girl’s had their hair done up with hairspray and volume.

  His eyes passed from mine to the group of women, then he paced to them, introducing himself with charm and ease. He was good at talking. Getting a girl to become a prostitute? I wasn’t sold yet.

  Finding a spot at the bar where I could keep an eye on both of them, I ordered a vodka soda, keeping my eyes open for a Dove.

  Hours passed, women came and left, and I kept my eye on the new bartender. She was small and mousy with blonde stringy hair, wearing glasses over her pale blue eyes and looking extremely out of place. She kept running her hands along her black shorts and uniform tank top. The more outgoing, and very attractive bartender was irritated with her, shooting nasty glances and barking orders in her direction. The girl was run down, it was obvious by her tired eyes and slumped shoulders. I wondered what her story was.

  It was nearing one o’clock in the morning when I finally reached out to talk to her.

  “You new here?” I asked, thankful the music on the back bar outside wasn’t anywhere as loud as it was inside of the club.

  She didn’t smile, but nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears.

  “Not liking the job?”

  She gave me a small grin. “Is it that obvious?”

  I winked. “Only a little. When are you done?”

  She glanced at the other bartender, who glared at her, making the girl shrivel even more than she already was. “I could probably leave now.”

  Smirking, I waved the other bartender over. She reluctantly came at first, until she got a good look at me. Practically shoving the shy girl out of the way, she leaned over the bar, putting her cleavage on full display. I took a long glance, a slight grin spreading across my face so she knew I noticed. I didn’t want anything to do with this super bitch, but I wanted her to say yes to what I was about to ask.

  “Your newbie needs a break.”

  Ms. Tits rolled her eyes then touched my forearm. “I’m sorry, she’s terrible, and not very pretty. I’d be happy to get you whatever you want.”

  I flashed my smile at her, leaning forward so our faces were inches apart. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill and slid it between her boobs. “Why don’t you let her take off, then you and I can get to know each other on this side of the bar?”

  Her eyes widened with lust, taking the money out of her tits and pulling her shirt down more for me to take a peek inside. I rose my brows, showing her my appreciation. She whipped her head toward the shy one. “Go the fuck home, Abby.”

  Abby. I looked over bartender bitch’s shoulder, offering a friendly smile to Abby.

  With furrowed brows and slumped shoulders, she grabbed her things and left the bar. She was on the verge of tears, just how I needed her to be.

  By the time Ms. Tits had brought me a drink, I’d already slipped away.

  Good thing I rotated bars as often as I could. Surely this bartender would be hard to shake if I came here on a regular basis.

  “Hey, wait up,” I jogged after Abby into the parking lot. “Hope that was okay.”

  She hugged herself and kept her eyes on the ground. “Yeah. I’m not really good at being a bartender. I need the money, though.”

  Jackpot.

  “Can’t your friends help you find a different job where there isn’t a mega bitch as your co-worker?”

  Abby fidgeted. “I don’t really have many of those.”

  My hands were in my pockets as I leaned my back against her car. “Friends are overrated, especially if you have a significant other.”

  Her frown deepened and her eyes moistened. “Nope. Not anymore.”

  She was making this too easy for me. Guilt ran through my bones, wondering if I really could do this. Abby was most likely at her lowest point in life and on the verge of shattering. My stomach clenched knowing I could easily persuade her decisions. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I remembered my hatred for Marcus.

  “I’m Vance.” I held my hand out for her to take. She eyed it warily while biting her lip.

  I chuckled. “I won’t bite. I figured introducing myself would be appropriate considering I followed you outside in the early hours of the morning.”

  Her cheeks flushed, then her hand cautiously took mine, a weak grip within my strong hold.

  She hesitated at first, but then gave in. “Abby.”

  “Nice to you meet you, Abby. You new to The Shore?”

  She let go of my hand and rubbed her biceps in the breezy air. “I’ve been here a few weeks. I needed a change of scenery.”

  I stood taller, taking a step so we were standing only inches apart. “You’re ex is an idiot for letting you come here by yourself.”

  She eyed me suspiciously. “How do you know I even have an ex?”

  Removing my hands from my pockets, I took a step backward. “You’re too pretty to have been single your whole life, and I’m sure whoever he was didn’t know how to treat you the way a woman deserves to be treated.”

  She slowly tilted her head to look at me. Big, lost blue eyes stared into my sea green pupils as if I had all the answers in the world.

  “You must get a lot of women to go home with you using that line.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t run across beautiful women that often, and I’m not one to just take a woman home with me. I’ve got a bit of an old school approach.”

  She rose a brow, a smile lifting on her lips. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

  I shrugged. “I mean, I’m not going to turn a girl down if she wants a kiss, but I’m also not into coming on too strong.”

  The brightness of her smile surpassed the bags under her eyes. She was pretty. “Want to go get some breakfast? My treat.”

  Her grin faded, and her brows pinched. She was contemplating.

  I held my hands up. “We could always pick another day. Maybe when you don’t work?”

  “There isn’t a day I don’t work,” she huffed.

  So she needed money, to. This could work out. “How about I come back next week?”

  She nodded, another smile forming on her lips. “Yeah, okay.”

  I waited for her to open her car door, but she only stood there. Was she not ready to leave me yet?

  “It’s been really nice talking to you,” she said softly. “You’re the first person who’s actually been kind to me.”

  I frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. But, I find that hard to believe. There were men hitting on you all night.”

  She blushed. “No, they weren’t. They were just trying to get to my co-worker.”

  “If that’s true, then they’re crazy. You shined like a diamond behind that bar.” I took a step closer to her. “She was as dull as a piece of rust.”

  Her breath hitched, and a sparkle formed in her eyes. She leaned toward me, but still kept some distance. She was interested, and flattered, and I might have a shot.

  Forgoing every ethical nerve inside of me, I grabbed her chin, pulling her mouth to meet with mine. She cowered at first, then melted as if she hadn’t felt another person’s touch in a lifetime. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I held her close, diving my tongue into her mouth. She fisted my shirt, groaning softly with desire.

  I could taste her need to be controlled and told what to do with her life. She was searching for more than just intimacy in her kiss, she needed someone to make decisions she didn’t know how to resolve.

  She would be a perfect Dove.

  “Want to get out of here?” I asked through heavy pants, planting my mouth on hers before she could respond.

  Breaking away, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and contemplating. Just as I was about to go in for another kiss, she stepped away. “Not tonight.”

  My insides relaxed in relief. Offering a half smile, I let her go, putting my hands in my pockets before I
used physical connection to make her change her mind. No doubt she was looking for an excuse to tell me no. “Does that mean another night?”

  She blushed, running her hand through her hair. “Maybe.”

  I grinned and opened the car door for her, kissing her cheek in the process. I could have swayed her decision, but I felt like I might vomit going through the motions of capturing her.

  Rolling down her window, she gave me a ghost of a smile. “I’ll see you around, Vance.”

  Leaning down so I could see her through her window, I said, “You bet. Have a good night.”

  Once she drove out of the parking lot, my knees buckled, my chest heaving as if the wind had been knocked out of me. My head pounded as shame swarmed through me. You almost ruined that girl’s life, even more than it already is. I coughed, dry heaving in the process. How the fuck was I going to go through with this? Would my animosity toward my father force me to be that destructive?

  Steadying myself against a nearby car, I took deep breaths, pulling out my wallet to get Riley’s burner phone number. I couldn’t do this. I needed to tell him I wanted out before I went insane with guilt.

  Behind the number was a picture of my mother. My breathing slowed to a steady rhythm as I examined the picture. She was beautiful with her sandy blonde hair, her smile bright as if she were proud of me.

  Sadness filled me as I looked back at her. She wouldn’t be proud I was going through with Marcus’s human trafficking excursion.

  But… she would be proud of me for avenging her death.

  “Forgive me, Mom, but I have to do this,” I whispered into the breeze, stroking the photo with my thumb.

  Chapter Two

  Lauren

  “You sure you’re okay with driving the next three hours?” Marcy, my best friend, asked. I’d sat co-pilot five of the fifteen hours we’d already driven. My eyes weren’t tired, and focusing on the open road helped my scattered thoughts become muted.