Between The Lines -- Chapter 7

[parallax23]

7: FAMILY

“I don’t get why you agreed to this,” Alec said as he stood in front of the mirror fixing his hair.  “You could have just scared the daylights out of him to get the info like you do to everyone else.”

“It’s not just his information I’m after,” Max said through the locked bathroom door.  

She was checking out her reflection and admiring her handiwork.  It had been a long time since she had a work out in the girly arts of primping and preening but she still had it.  She would have to thank Cindy for convincing her to bring along that new violet halter top and black micro mini that accentuated her legs.  While she didn’t want to waste it on a strip club, it would help her blend in more than jeans and a T-shirt.

Alec grinned wickedly.  “I thought he wasn’t your type.”

“Shut up, that’s not what I meant,” Max snapped as the bathroom door swung open.

He caught sight of her reflection in his mirror and spun to face her.  His eyes did an appreciative assessment of her outfit that reminded him why he put up with her nonsense.  That skirt was supposed to leave little up to the imagination, but his imagination was sent into overdrive on how to get the rest of it off.

“If you want, I can put on a pair of glasses and we can stay in tonight,” Alec offered, looking her up and down again.

Max made a disgusted face and snatched the car keys away from him.  “Not even if your life depended on it.  Come on, let’s get going.”

Alec enjoyed the view of Max storming out of their room and silently cursed his luck.  He had the hottest roommate he had ever had on a mission and she was off limits.  He was sure part of the reason she was so tightly wound up was because she needed to get laid.  And if he got laid in the process, all the better.  But he wasn’t counting on a change in his luck any day soon.  Maybe he would find someone to hook up with tonight and then return in the morning to play Max’s sidekick again.

Max gritted her teeth in annoyance when she replayed Alec’s offer in her head.  He was like a twelve year old boy with raging hormones and the same amount of self control.  How he survived Manticore all these years was a mystery to her.  Since the place burned down, he acted like an energetic dog that just found a way out of its leash.  

Her skin bristled at his blatant reminder that she hadn’t had sex in almost a year.  Three years ago, before she had met Logan, she probably would have taken Alec up on his offer without a second thought.  Sex was just sex, impersonal and inconvenient because it was usually driven by her heat cycle.  Alec was exactly the kind of guy she typically went to in order to scratch her itch.  But that was before Logan.  Still, there were days that she felt a little deprived while waiting for the cure, waiting for that moment that it wasn’t just about scratching an itch.

“You’re late,” Burt said, pointing at his wristwatch as they walked into the bar.  “It’s 7:45, you were supposed to be here at 7:00!”

“Believe it or not, this is the closest she’s been to getting to work on time since I’ve met her,” Alec informed him and received a shove from Max.

Frankie rolled her eyes as she surveyed the two of them.  “Come on pretty boy, we got some crates to unload while Max sets up the tables.”

“Got it,” Max replied dryly as she picked up a rag and spray bottle from the counter.

As far as undignified things she would have to do in a strip club to get information, wiping down a couple of tables and chairs was not exactly the worst gig in the house.  The only reason she had agreed to work for Burt was to see what Frankie knew about Martina.  She had seemed to have a vested interest in Max’s surrogate and Max would just have to gain her trust to learn what she needed.

“You sure you don’t want to perform tonight?” Burt asked, moving close enough to her that she could hear his shallow breathing.  “I can barely keep my eyes off you.”

She looked up from the table she was wiping and looked him dead in the eyes.  “I suggest you keep your eyes to yourself before I make you do a different kind of dance.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, raising his hands defensively and backing away.  “You’re one of those ‘hard to get’ types.  I can appreciate that in a woman.”

Thankfully, Burt’s cell phone started ringing and he pulled it out of his pocket before walking to the other side of the room.  When Max got back to Seattle, she was giving Normal a fruit basket for not being the sleaziest boss she ever worked for.  Well, maybe just a grapefruit if they were selling them that week.

In all her time on the outside, Max had avoided working in places like Warehouse XXX, minus that brief stint at the Blowfish Tavern when she had to rescue that mermaid.  While it had taken some cajoling from Alec to play along, she had done what she had to.  It had been the same way when she and Cindy faked the bimbo act to scam those gamblers Sketchy owed money.  She didn’t have to do much to pass, she didn’t need to let them touch her or to touch them, she just dressed the part.  

For some reason, the idea of selling her body reminded her too much of Manticore.  Both involved wearing an outfit that made her into an object and not a person.  She would have to put on a routine like some trained animal to appease a bunch of men who saw her as a dollar amount.  She would be laid bare to be manipulated and used…  The thought almost made her feel ill and she pushed it aside.  This was recon.

The night crept in and with it came the patrons of Warehouse XXX.  The crowd was more upscale than she would have thought.  Most of them were business men who had shed their Friday suit jackets and rolled up their shirt sleeves to enjoy the show, probably telling their wives it was just drinks with the guys from work.  There were a few women too.  Max felt their leering gazes bounce between her and the girls dancing on the stage, but she didn’t let it faze her.  She didn’t even break the hand of the guy who grabbed her ass as she walked up to yet another table to take their orders.

“Hey baby, when do you get up there?” asked a guy sporting a crisp striped shirt with messy blond hair.  

“Never,” Max ground out, not appreciating his gaze.  “I’m just here to serve drinks.”

“So uh… where’s your notepad then?” he inquired.

Max could see his three other friends shifting anxiously in their seats, waiting for her response.  “Don’t worry, I’ll remember it.”

He cast a disbelieving look at her and looked at his friends then back at her.  “Really now? Okay then, we need a Red-Headed Slut, an Adios Motherfucker, one Sex with an Alligator, and a Jack Daniel’s Lynchburg Lemonade to start us off… Got that?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Max replied sourly as he took out his wallet and handed her a fifty dollar bill.  “You know you can start a tab.”

“I know that.  All the drinks go on the tab, but that’s for you.  There’s more if you decide to fill a private order,” he informed her with a wink.  His friends were nudging each other like a bunch of horny teenage boys who saw their friend talking to a girl for the first time.

Max bit down and swallowed whatever insults she would have liked to inflict on him.  “How about I just get your drinks?”

“Well, to help with the decision-making process, you should know that I’m Carter Vogel, Len Vogel’s nephew.  So if you play real nice, I could definitely set you up.”  He was enjoying the view of her legs before looking up at her face again.

She quietly absorbed what he said with disgust and nodded.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Carter winked at her as she turned away from him.  “Remember, I’m down with you going up on stage… or going down on me.  Don’t listen to that crap that Lesdesma bitch is spouting.”

Max’s interest was piqued with that statement.  “Who’s Ledesma?  I’m a bit new in town.”

“She’s just some crazy who has convinced a few girls to stop playing by the rules.  I suggest you steer clear of her.  She’ll be taken care of soon enough,” Carter told her.  “Now hurry up with those drinks.”

Was Martina the one who started the strike?  Ledesma was a fairly common surname, but something told Max that this was something right up Martina’s alley.  She was starting to understand the hesitance surrounding Martina’s name and couldn’t help feeling a bit of pride that her mother stood up for the little guy.  The thought of someone harming her because of that mustered up an instinctive need to protect her within Max.

She gritted her teeth and kept walking back to the bar.  It looked like she would have to play nice with Carter in order to find out more.  Even though Frankie was no longer her only source, still Max wanted to put on a good impression for her.  But Alec was the one serving up drinks at the bar when she looked over there.

Frankie had decided that she needed a cigarette and had left Alec to cover for her.  He had managed to catch the eye of a girl with unnaturally bright red hair and a lean body wrapped in mini black cowboy outfit with a matching hat.  His trademark smirk was in place as the redhead leaned across the counter and receptive to his every advance.  Over her head, he saw Max coming full speed at the counter and the expression on his face fell as he handed a glass of whiskey to a surly gentleman to his left.

“I better get going, my performance is in a few minutes,” she pouted, drawing his focus back to her.

“How about we finish up this conversation after hours?” Alec said to his redhead in a husky tone.  Even though he doubted that he’d get the chance to make good on that offer with Max around, he still had to give it a shot.

“I am sure you’d be worth my time…  Just don’t go narcing on me.”  She scribbled a phone number onto a napkin and pressed a kiss into it, leaving a red impression of the deep lipstick she had on.

“If you’re as good as I think you are, we’ll have nothing to worry about,” Alec said with a grin.  She sashayed off and Max watched her before turning back to face Alec.

“I see you’re having a good time,” Max said dryly as she went behind the counter and stood beside him to fill her orders.

Alec shrugged.  “Just supporting the locals.  You should try it some time.  There’s a place down the street—”

“Could you stop being a perv for like five minutes?  Aren’t they supposed to be on strike?” asked Max as she grabbed a few bottles of liquor from the back shelf.  

“They’re just not paying their share to Vogel and keep working on the down low as far as I can tell,” Alec said as he served two more customers.

“Yeah, well your friend better be careful.  See that dick in the corner with his cronies?” Max asked, nodding in their direction.

“I’m noticing a pattern with the men in your life.  Maybe if I had some more cash in my life I could afford to get a kind word out of you?” Alec quipped.

“He’s Vogel’s nephew, you idiot,” Max snapped.  “He said that a Ledesma is behind the hooker strike.  I need to spend some time with him to get more out info.  Cover for me when Frankie gets back, okay?”

Alec whistled.  “Man, I’m starting to think your surrogate is more of a killjoy than you are.”

“And I’m starting to think your surrogate was a really stupid prostitute,” Max shot back, placing all the drinks on the tray.

“Better than a bitter one,” Alec countered.

“Lover’s spat?” Frankie asked as she emerged from the back room, smelling strongly of cigarette smoke.

“Never.”

“Hell no.”

Frankie nodded incredulously.  “Sure, whatever.”

“I’m going to take my fifteen,” Max said.  “Alec’s going to cover for me.”

Before Alec could object, she walked off with her tray in hand.  He gave a defeated shrug and resigned himself to his fate.

“Looks like it’s just me and you,” he said in a friendly tone, but Frankie didn’t look at him.

Her eyes were trained to where Max delivered the drinks, then took a seat down at the table right next to Carter.  “Does your friend always go chasing after the biggest amount of trouble she can find?  First Martina, now Len’s pet lackey?”

“Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” he asked nonchalantly, knowing it was a loaded question.  Frankie obviously knew more about Martina Ledesma than she had let on, but wasn’t very forthcoming about helping them.

“Yeah.  Time to start waiting tables, pretty boy,” Frankie replied, handing him a notepad and pen.

He didn’t need either to remember his orders, he could still remember the encryption code on the Russian nuclear missile plans from when his Manticore days, but he had to play the part.

“You know, you could get rid of us much quicker if you just tell Max what she wants to know about her mother,” Alec remarked.

“I don’t know anything more than anyone else around here,” Frankie said plainly. “Now get going.  The natives are getting restless.”

Alec gave her a curt nod and went off to wait tables.

Frankie wasn’t quite sure what to make of Max and Alec.  Her instincts told her that they seemed decent enough, but these days, even decent people were likely to have an unfriendly agenda.  Watching Max curl around Carter’s arm like any other girl in the place, Frankie knew a skilled manipulator when she saw one and she wasn’t about to get played as easily.

“All the way from Seattle?  Well, honey, I definitely want to give you the grand tour,” Carter said as Max was practically sitting on his lap, batting her eyelashes at everything he said.

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer,” Max said.  “I don’t know anyone around here.”

“Well, you’re definitely getting in with the right crowd,” he replied.

Max wanted to gag.  She never liked missions that required close contact and ingratiation.  Carter reminded her too much of her ex Darren which made him both sufferable and agitating, still he was infinitely preferable to Burt.  Buttering him up was also a reminder that as far as arrogant bastards went, Alec was not necessarily the worst one she had been stuck with.  He knew when to give her space and how to push her buttons for his own amusement, not out of malice.  And she could just beat him senseless when she wanted answers.

“Yeah…  I’ve been hearing things about that Lesdesma woman and she sounds like trouble,” she interjected as casually as possible.  “What’s her story anyway?”

A scowl quickly spread across his face.  “I suggest you steer clear of anyone siding with her.  Martina has a few screws missing, and now she thinks Len did in her tramp of a sister, so she’s trying to get back at him.  Len has a handle on it though.”

Max digested every word with rapt attention.  Martina was big on family too.  Max knew all too well what it was like to lose a sister… Memories of Tinga and Eva cut into her heart and she felt a pang of sympathy for Martina.  If she were in the same position, she would raise a little hell too.

Carter probably thought she was interested him, which couldn’t be further from the truth.  His hand had originally been placed on her knee, but was slowly creeping its way up her thigh.  Just before it reached the hem of her skirt, Max grabbed his hand firmly.

“Sorry, my break’s up,” Max pouted.  “We’ll pick this up later?”

A deep chuckle cut through the noise.  Max would have ignored it if she hadn’t heard the safety click off a nine millimeter.  Then it became a chorus from her transgenic hearing.  Twelve total.

“Sorry, but there’s not gonna be a later for your boy,” said the redhead Alec had been chatting up earlier.

She was holding the gun Max heard trained on Carter, while several other women held the rest of his company at gunpoint.

“What the hell is going on?” Carter demanded.

“You’ve got a meeting scheduled with an old acquaintance of ours,” she replied.

“What the fuck are you doing?  I’m not going anywhere,” he hissed.

Max was caught between a rock and a hard place.  Well, actually she was caught between a stripper with a bad dye job and handgun and an arrogant tool, a situation that was probably worse.  She couldn’t exactly slip out back into the crowd that didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, and she sure as hell didn’t want to help Carter out of the situation he was in.

“My friend and I beg to differ,” the redhead said, edging closer to him with the gun.

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing,” Carter shot back, pulling his own gun from his pocket and putting the barrel against Max’s head.

“Real pathetic,” said the redhead, retaining her stance.  “Typical Vogel scum.”

“I suggest you get that gun away from me or your fellow hoe in training gets it,” Carter replied.

Max felt her anger swell.  There were only so many things Max could tolerate, but being called a ‘hoe’ wasn’t one of them.  His attention was on the redhead, imagining Max was some helpless girl he could turn his back on.  She was far from it.  In the blink of an eye, she grabbed his arm and twisted it away from herself, causing his hand to pull the trigger.  A shot went into the ceiling before she wrestled the gun away from him.

The sound of gunfire was enough to send the room into chaos.  The other patrons started rushing towards the exits and the girls were pushing them out of the way looking to escape.  Carter’s crew had taken advantage of the distraction to pull out their own weapons, and Max knew it was time to exit stage right.

She scrambled away from Carter and rushed toward the bar.  The back exit was her best bet.  As she pushed her way through the crowd, she heard more shots fired but couldn’t tell if anyone had been hit.  A hand grabbed her arm and her reflex to fight off her attacker kicked in.  Max side-stepped him, before her fist stopped a mere centimeter away from his face.  It was just Alec.

“I’d say we’ve sufficiently worn out our welcome in this town,” Alec said, pushing her hand down and steering her toward the back.

They were almost behind the bar when Alec looked into the mirror above the wall.

“Max, watch out!” he exclaimed and pushed her onto the floor with his entire body.

Max let out a groan and rolled him off her.  He winced in pain and sprang back to his feet.  She had heard gunshots in the fray and it didn’t take much for her to figure out what happened.

“No time to slow down,” she said as soon as she was back on her feet, pulling him along.  

They slipped through the door and much to their relief they found no one in the backroom.  When they made it through the door leading into the alley, Alec tossed his car keys to Max.  She caught them without a second thought and started the engine.

“Don’t bleed all over the seat,” she told him as she shifted gears and looked around before driving into the street.

“I’ll do the best I can,” Alec gritted as he clutched his shoulder.  “What the hell just happened back there?”

“Apparently, Martina and Len Vogel have a score to settle,” Max said, making a sharp left turn.  She made a mental note to look into getting a car like this one someday.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly.  She’s gunning for Vogel?” he scoffed.  “You would think she’d be glad to have Manticore off her back?  No.  She’s got to play protector of the down-trodden.  Now I see where you get it from.”

“Actually, from what I can see, it’s completely a personal vendetta,” Max informed him.  “Vogel murdered her sister.”

Alec winced again but not from the bullet wound.  “Is everything always this complicated with you?”

Max pulled the car into a parking spot across from their hotel.  “Only when it comes to family.”