Piece by Piece: A Modern Retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk Read online

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue:

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Brandy Ayers

  Coming Soon!

  Sneak Peek: Standby

  Piece by

  Piece

  A modern retelling of

  Jack and the Beanstalk

  by Brandy Ayers

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Piece By Piece

  COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Brandy Ayers

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Kate DeHart of Beyond The Page

  Visit me at www.brandyayers.com

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0711-4

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0712-1

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedication

  This book is for the hundreds of thousands of people trafficked around the world each year,

  and the many people that work to stop this horrific crime, thank you for the work you do.

  Learn more at http://polarisproject.org/

  Chapter 1

  Jax

  The chair Jax sat in squeaked as he leaned it back on two legs, bobbing back and forth while he waited for the infamous George to come through the door. Jax created the perfect image of a laid-back guy who didn’t give a shit about anything. The act grated on his nerves. Order, discipline, respect, those were the traits he held as most important.

  But for the foreseeable future he had to suppress all that in favor of projecting the devil-may-care attitude of a down-on-his-luck small time drug dealer. He’d been lucky getting an in with Rick, the head bartender at The Beanstalk.

  No. Not lucky.

  Jax had used every skill he’d picked up in his five years at the Bureau to make that connection. Finally, the weeks of surveillance and subtle inquiries around the gym where the bartender worked out had paid off.

  Jax was in.

  Clubs like The Beanstalk didn’t rely on normal want ads and job interviews. No, to get a job working in the piece-of-shit club you needed to know somebody.

  Thankfully, Jax found out the lead bartender, Rick Grimes, had a penchant for athletic enhancements, otherwise known as human growth hormone. It only took a few weeks to get the goon to trust Jax enough to buy from him, then a few more to score the interview with George, owner of The Beanstalk.

  The door slammed open behind Jax, almost sending him toppling to the floor. But he caught himself last minute, and the beat up motorcycle boots he wore landed square on the sticky floor. He didn’t want to know why that floor sounded like Velcro ripping when he’d been escorted in ten minutes earlier.

  “You Jax?” A man, large in every way possible, rounded the desk, standing at least six foot nine and easily 450 pounds. There didn’t seem to be an ounce of muscle on the guy, and judging by the heavy breathing and sweat trickling down his temples, Jax guessed the owner of the club had never stepped foot inside a gym. The peeling leather office chair groaned under the man’s weight.

  “Yes sir, that’s me.” He held out his hand for the man to shake and instantly regretted it. The dude’s palm rivaled the stickiness of the floor. Once again Jax tried hard not to think too much about that.

  “Call me George, or boss.” He settled his beady eyes on Jax. “I got three rules. Keep your mouth shut, your hands outta the till, and your cock out of the pussy. The girls in this place’ll fall to their knees you wave so much as a five-spot their direction, and you can get all the head you want, but no one gets fucked in my club except me.” A knock on the door interrupted the lovely mental picture George painted. “What?”

  A too-skinny woman wearing nothing but a pair of clear plastic heels walked into the office. “I need a little something, Daddy,” she whined.

  The way she called George ‘Daddy’ made Jax’s skin crawl. The dark circles under her eyes, gaunt features, and poorly concealed sores on her face spoke volumes of what exactly it was she needed from the club owner.

  “You know you don’t get anything until I get my payment.” George wheeled back from the desk, splaying his legs in front of him.

  The girl sauntered over to him and dropped to her knees.

  “Take it out, you little slut.”

  The girl unzipped George’s too-tight pants, reached in and pulled out a slightly stubby, but thick cock.

  Jax began to stand to give the two some privacy; he had no desire to see this particular show. Especially since he would most likely need to hear it all again when he went through the surveillance tapes from the bug he’d planted in the office while he waited. He’d placed the sophisticated microphone in the phone sitting on George’s desk, piled high with weeks-old food containers. He’d wanted to plant a microscopic camera on the ceiling as well, but George had cameras placed throughout the building, and they couldn’t risk Jax being caught setting up his own. The bug was easy enough to place with sleight of hand, so even if he had been captured on camera in the office, no one would be any the wiser.

  Before he could make his exit, the man spoke up. “Did I tell you to leave? Sit your ass back down.” Turning back to the girl between his legs, George sneered and grabbed her hair. “Get to sucking.” He tugged roughly on her over-processed locks, shoving her onto his dick.

  It took every bit of strength in Jax’s body not to beat the man senseless at his treatment of the strung out girl. If Jax had learned one thing from all the surveillance he’d done on both the club and George, it was George’s reputation for keeping the dancers in his employ dependent on drugs. He took both a cut of their tips and numerous sexual favors in exchange for what they craved. It made Jax sick to his stomach that he couldn’t arrest the man yet. But more went on in the backrooms of The Beanstalk than just the trading of meth for blow jobs.

  No, the FBI suspected George of much more nefarious deeds. They had busted a prostitution ring just outside Chicago months before at one of the largest sporting events of the year. Most of the girls they picked up refused to talk, and ‘girls’ was definitely the word for them. Some not even teenagers yet. Each feared for not only their lives, but the lives of the families they had been ripped from. But there had been one fifteen-year-old girl who gave them what they needed.

  She’d been badly beaten because she’d fought back against the pimps who tried to force themselves on her. Thanks to her, Jax’s team had learned that she’d been pulled off the streets, force fed drugs until she begged for them, then made to sell her body in exchange for the very thing the men had gotten her hooked on in the first place. And during those first weeks when they had fed her drugs then used her body, she believed they held her somewhere on The Beanstalk property.

  Apparently, she’d overheard two of her captors talking about a stripper they wouldn’t mind fuck
ing, but who Big George had declared off limits. They mentioned The Beanstalk, and the informant recognized the club name from talk around the trailer park where she had grown up.

  Her testimony proved to be enough for the approval of a warrant to tap the phones and initiate an undercover mission. Jax’s job was a simple one. Find where they kept the girls and gather enough evidence to shut down what appeared to be the largest supplier of underage sex slaves in the United States.

  Unfortunately, the woman currently on her knees sucking Big George’s cock didn’t factor into that mission. During the preliminary stages of their investigation they learned the women working in the club were all of age, and more or less there of their own accord. Most had criminal records and drug habits before being hired; George simply took advantage of their addictions for his own pleasure.

  George turned his attention back to Jax. “Rick assured me you know how to keep a secret. That’s the only reason you’re here right now. I hear you running your mouth off about this place and what goes on here, you’ll find your dick cut off and shoved down your own throat so you can never talk again.”

  He pulled the woman off his dick, and a string of saliva suspended in the air between her lips and the bulbous tip. Jax’s stomach turned over at the sight, but he held the contents in check. Seeing unpleasant things came with the job.

  “Start riding if you want what I’m holding.”

  The woman turned around, straddled the man’s beefy legs, and backed up until her pussy slid easily onto his dick. George gripped her hips, thrusting her roughly up and down onto himself.

  The whole time she rode him her dazed eyes stayed on Jax. “Aren’t you a pretty thing, new guy?” A loud crack echoed in the office as George slapped her ass, followed closely by a yelp from the girl.

  “Don’t talk while you’re fucking me, you piece of trash.”

  Rage surged through Jax, he balled his hands into fists at sides for a moment before relaxing them, so he wouldn’t give away his agitation with the degrading scene before him.

  In response the girl doubled her pace, spread her legs wider, then brought two fingers to her mouth, and sucked on them. Jax couldn’t help but watch as she trailed those fingers down her body, then began rubbing them in circles over her clit. She moaned under her own ministrations, and Jax glanced back to her face. She winked at him and licked her lips. He’d been in some fucked up situations before, but this reached a whole new level.

  “Jax, shove your cock in this bitch’s mouth to shut her up,” George grunted from beneath her. “She fucks like a goddam porn star, but her voice kills it.”

  “Mmm, yeah Jax, shut me up with that cock.” She bit her lip and winked at him again.

  Jax prayed to God this wasn’t some kind of test he had to pass to get the job, because Lord knew he wouldn’t be able to get it up for the emaciated girl riding that revolting Jaba the Hutt of a man. “No thanks, I only play solo.”

  The woman pouted in response.

  “Fine, then get the fuck out. Tell Rick to give you the tour.”

  Jax stood so quickly from the chair he nearly knocked it over. He practically raced for the door, but it wasn’t fast enough to miss George order the girl to give him her ass.

  ***

  Two hours later and Jax still hadn’t shaken his disgust at the display in the office. But apparently he hid it well. Rick had given him the lay of the land, never noticing anything off about Jax.

  The club itself seemed pretty standard. The main area consisted of a large room with a stage at the front that curved to form three peninsulas. Each contained a pole that went to the cavernous ceilings. Three girls danced at a time, but occasionally featured acts would take the center stage while the others made the rounds for lap dances. Lights flooded the stage, yet the floor remained dark, making it easier to conceal the illegal activities that took place between the dancers and customers, and Jax suspected between the customers themselves.

  On one side of the stage was a short staircase that led to the backstage area where girls waited their turn to dance. The other side had a small storage room that at first glance only held chairs and old equipment, but he’d have to take a second look when he got a chance.

  Only one exit led in and out of the main area; a set of double doors opening directly into the graveled parking area. The entire back wall of the club consisted of a huge curved bar, behind which were two doors at either end that led to the dressing room for the dancers and the storage room for the liquor. A second fire exit was covered up by stacks of boxes and shelving, making it almost impossible to use if the time ever came.

  During the tour, Jax witnessed any number of illegal activities, from prostitution to drug deals, but no sign of where they might keep underage girls. As they moved about the club, Jax made a mental map of the place, noting exits, items he could use as weapons, and where he needed to place more bugs.

  Behind the bar Jax got a rundown from Rick of how the register worked, and what liquors to use if a customer didn’t specify a certain brand.

  “Basically, give ’em the cheap stuff unless they ask for something else. But charge the same price, even if it is the shit.” Rick turned his attention up to the stage. “The customers in this place are assholes, but the extras make it worth it.” He pointed at the stage just as the girl from the office strode up to a pole, and wound herself around it, obviously feeling the effects from whatever drugs George had given her. “Sasha there, for instance, will give a mean BJ in the back for a few bucks. Sometimes for free if she’s feeling especially good. I even fucked her once out back in exchange for some pot.”

  “I thought George didn’t allow other guys fucking the girls.” Jax had no interest in touching any of them, but knew he had to play along to gain the trust of everyone.

  Rick took a drag off the cigarette then rested it in the ashtray before him. “As long as you don’t fuck ’em in the club, he don’t give a shit.” The bartender held up his hand in a fist, obviously expecting a celebratory fist bump for getting to screw damaged strippers in the parking lot. Jax internally rolled his eyes, but complied and gave the guy an equally lecherous grin.

  Jax largely ignored the stage as he filled drink orders for the scantily clad waitresses. He liked naked women as much as the next guy, but knowing the performers were almost all kept as sex toys for George took the novelty out of the experience.

  About two hours into his first shift, the lights dimmed on the two side stages, and the delicate sound of piano keys mixed with violins rang through the cavernous club. It took Jax a couple seconds, but he recognized the song as “Bring me to Life” by Evanescence. “This is an odd choice for a stripper song.”

  Vaguely Jax recognized Rick’s voice responding a few feet away, but the moment he saw the next performer step onto stage, everything around him faded, including his new coworker. Toned legs led by feet strapped into perilously high heels stretched out from behind the blood red curtain, and the most amazing female body he had ever seen in his life strutted slowly onto the stage.

  Dressed only in a glittering black G-string and bikini top, the fiery redhead ran one hand up the pole, then the other, climbing with her hands and feet up the pole until she could nearly touch the ceiling.

  She wrapped her curvy body around the pole into a modified fetal position, the muscles in her thighs the only thing holding her aloft. Her hands meanwhile glided through the air in sweeping arcs in time to the soft opening lines of the song. The haunting voice sang of seeing into her soul, and Jax found himself wanting nothing more than to see into this incredible woman’s soul.

  As the song picked up into the driving hard rock beats, the dancer spread her legs, then whipped them up, inverting her whole body, then wrapping herself around it once again. A pause in the music had her idly spinning around the pole, then the guitar kicked in, harder than before, and she began to free fall down the pole, catching herself just before hitting the stage.

  Jax’s heart raced as he realized
the woman had meant to let go. He stood in awe of her strength and grace. Peripherally he became aware that everyone in the club was just as mesmerized. But he didn’t want to think about all the other men watching this glamorous woman. She didn’t belong in this place. He couldn’t bring himself to call what she did on stage stripping. What she did was art. The movements and tricks she performed were unfathomable. They defied every rule of gravity he knew.

  He reached down to adjust his jeans over the growing erection he futilely fought. The undulating of her body brought to mind the many ways he could position her for both their pleasure. All the ways she would wrap that body around his.

  Her body. This beautiful creature stood apart in every way imaginable from every single other girl he’d seen on the stage that night. The toned muscles on her arms, legs, and stomach stood out in stark contrast to the skin and bones of the other performers. Her tits were large, but obviously genuine, and her hair full, not stringy.

  As the song came to its conclusion she performed a series of complicated moves, flipping and twisting around the pole before coming to a rest on the floor. Only when she stood and opened her eyes did he realize she had performed with them closed the whole time. They weren’t what he expected. After the intensity of her dance, he expected to see fire and passion crackling in her irises. But instead Jax saw nothing. They were flat, dead eyes. Not dazed or drugged like the other performers. Simply… lifeless.