Blow Softly (Red Light: Silver Girls #1) Read online

  Blowing Softly

  Book 1, Red Light: Silver Girls series

  by Debra Kayn

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Blow Softly

  1st Digital release: Copyright© 2016 Debra Kayn

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Debra Kayn. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  www.debrakayn.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  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

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon

  Author Bio

  Debra Kayn's Backlist

  Sample Chapter – Wrapped Around Him | Book 1, Moroad Motorcycle Club series by Debra Kayn | Chapter One

  Dedication

  To brave women everywhere.

  Acknowledgments

  Wallace, Idaho — As most of you know, Federal Idaho where my Bantorus MC series, Moroad MC series, and now my Red Light: Silver Girls series books are based is set in my hometown of Wallace, Idaho. It's wonderful to live in an area where we take pride in our colorful past, rich history, and mining. Most of all the acceptance of those we call neighbors. Thank you to Ryan Motel, Lux Rooms, Oasis Bordello Museum, Wallace Inn, Rossi Building, Shoshone County Sheriff's Department, Harvest Food, Hecla Mining, Molly B'Damn Motel and the community for adding that special touch to my books.

  Prologue

  Thirteen years ago —

  The pristine white walls ended, and the hospital lobby came into view. Madison lowered her gaze to the indigo colored carpet underneath the wheels of the wheelchair. She knew the color indigo because she'd memorized all the Crayola crayons in the sixty-four count box the social worker brought her the day after her surgery. Midnight blue, cobalt, and periwinkle were nice colors, but indigo was her favorite out of all the crayons.

  "I've made Madison's follow-up appointment with Dr. Clark in one week. His phone number is in her release packet. It's important she do the exercises to stretch her vocal cords three times a day or she risks scar tissue growing and making her voice box useless where the doctor did the repair." The nurse stopped the wheelchair in front of the double sliding glass doors. "If there are any problems between now and her appointment, don't be afraid of calling Dr. Clark and making an earlier appointment."

  Madison's mom tossed the paperwork into Madison's lap. "Can she walk?"

  "Yes, though she's going to be weak for a while and needs to stay home until she has her follow up with Dr. Clark." Nurse Bailey kneeled down in front of Madison and moved the foot pads on the wheelchair out of the way. "I'll miss you, Madison."

  Madison's eyes filled with tears. She wanted to stay in the hospital longer. The nurses treated her special, always asking if she wanted company or to practice eating with ice cream. The pain that came every time she swallowed was almost gone.

  "Get up, Madison. We need to hurry if we're going to get home in time." Her mom hooked her hand under Madison's arm, lifted her to her feet, and pulled her out of the hospital to the parking lot.

  The click of her mom's high heels on the asphalt grew louder and more frequent the farther they went away from the building. Dizzy and hot, Madison hugged the plastic bag the hospital gave her and reached for her mom's hand. The two walking trips around the hospital corridor after breakfast had worn her out, and she couldn't keep up with her mom's fast pace.

  Her mom shook her arm free. "Let go of me."

  Madison whined. Her throat spasmed, and she clamped down on the pitiful mewl coming out of her mouth. The only improvement toward speaking again during her recovery was a whine like a baby kitten and a grunt like a pig. Dr. Clark always nodded his head in approval after her exercises and his pleasure at her progress made her happy. He was a nice man and looked her in the eyes when he talked.

  "I swear, if you act up at home, Del is going to leave me." Madison's mom stopped beside her car, and her beautiful heart-shaped face frowned down at Madison. "What did they give you?"

  Madison held the bag tighter to her chest and shook her head. The mention of Del, her mom's boyfriend, filled her with fear.

  "Give me that." Her mom yanked the bag out of Madison's grasp and dug inside. "Did they send you home with pain pills?"

  The pack of Crayola crayons fell to the ground, spilling and rolling in every direction. Madison kneeled in the parking lot shoving the unbroken crayons into the cardboard box. Her heart raced at the sight of the broken pieces, and she searched the ground. The indigo colored crayon gone.

  "Get up." Her mom jerked Madison to her feet.

  Tears filled Madison's eyes over the loss of her favorite color. She stared at the faded paint on the side of the car. A burnt sierra color. She hated brown. Del had brown hair and wore a brown shirt for work, when he went, which wasn't often.

  Madison wiped her cheeks before her mom caught her crying and leaned against the back door of the vehicle in shock. She wasn't wild about any brown color. Brown reminded her of home. She wanted her indigo crayon back.

  "Don't mess this up for me, Madison Sue Grady." Her mother unlocked the car. "Del won't put up with you acting up."

  A day after her twelfth birthday, Del tried to kill her. He'd choked her because she sang in her room and woke him up. She fingered the tender skin at her collar bone where the surgeon cut into her neck trying to fix her vocal box.

  Del had squeezed her neck until something cracked in her throat, and her scream disappeared.

  "Get in, Madison. Don't you listen? We need to hurry." Madison's mom slid into the driver's seat.

  She turned and climbed into the backseat of the car, tapping the driver's headrest and waving her hand. She caught her mom's gaze in the rearview mirror and mouthed, "No."

  The last place she wanted to go was back home where Del lived with her mom.

  "Dammit, say something. The doctor said you'll be
able to talk." Her mom pulled out of the parking space. "Maybe it's better that you can't talk. Then Del won't have to punish you again."

  Madison sank farther down in the seat and stared out the window.

  During the two weeks in the hospital, Dr. Clark kept reminding Madison if she failed to do her exercises, she had a good chance of losing her voice permanently. She leaned her forehead against the window. Would it really matter if she never talked again?

  Even when she spoke, no one listened. Not mom. Not Del. Nobody.

  The secrets that darkened her world would forever be left unspoken.

  Chapter One

  Heavy grunts provided a rhythmic background for Madison. She closed her eyes and counted out the slow, heavy beat, knowing the male customer couldn't hear what she heard inside her head. No one could.

  She could say, think, and scream whatever she wanted, and no sound ever came out of her mouth. Mute since the age of twelve, she preferred a loud and chaotic world where her silence went unnoticed.

  Joe—that's the name the customer claimed when he entered the room— urged her to flip over from where she posed on her hands and knees, her ass in the air. She reached for his hand at her hip and squeezed in refusal, tossing her hair down her back to encourage him to stick with the position he'd paid for upon arrival.

  The clock on the nightstand glowed. Joe only had two more minutes to reach ejaculation. She wiggled her ass, bumping against him.

  Joe's heavy breathing stopped, and he pumped into her. She bucked against him, her movements erratic until he had to hold her in place.

  Then Joe orgasmed.

  She stilled. His time with her over, she pulled away from him and stood.

  Joe staggered back a few steps, removed the condom, and zipped his jeans. She grabbed the wastebasket and held it out for him, then wrapped herself in a silk robe and smiled, catching Joe's tired and pleased gaze.

  "Damn, Madison." Joe's red cheeks trembled when he exhaled. "Always, always pleasing me, baby."

  She lifted her shoulder and smiled, lowering her gaze. Men like him who padded their thick wallet to make up for their insecurities with real women usually tipped her well. They especially loved the innocent act.

  Joe removed his wallet, making sure he flashed the wad of cash he carried. She stepped closer, raising her brows and biting down on her lower lip. Flirting, seduction, playing came naturally to her.

  She had men promising forever and swearing devotion to her with a single look. The right body language and a curious glance, and the customers walked away pleased with their appointment. No words were needed. She made men's chests expand, and they stood a little taller inside her bedroom. Her attention put them at king level. Right where every man secretly wished to be, where women wanted and needed them.

  "Here's a little extra for you." Joe leaned in closer to her.

  She ducked her chin, avoiding the kiss he sought. Rounding her shoulders, she tilted her head and gazed up at him, radiating pleasure while she fisted the hundred-dollar bill in her palm.

  A knock broke apart their moment and Tiff, the owner of Red Light Bordello where Madison lived for the next three months, escorted Joe out of the room. She nodded, letting her madam know Joe played by the rules and paid ahead of time. Then she waited for Tiff to close the door.

  Once alone, Madison rolled up the rubber-backed throw rug from atop the bed cover. Another rule of the house to protect the room from any bodily fluids. She enjoyed slipping into a clean bed every night knowing no one else had been there.

  After placing the rug in the clothes hamper, a chore she performed after every customer, she shut off the lube warmer on her dresser and slipped inside the attached bathroom to shower. The quicker she scrubbed her body, the faster she'd be able to relax for the night.

  Fifteen minutes later, she'd removed any trace of someone's hands on her body and walked out of the bedroom wearing her fleece-lined black leggings, and her oversized black sweatshirt with an M in hot pink.

  She closed the bedroom door behind her and walked the length of two rooms down the hall to the main kitchen on the second floor of the Sterling Building. The other ladies from the Network already sat around the table, and she took the chair closest to the door.

  Paige stood braiding Sunny's long, blonde hair beside her. Madison looked across the table at Marci, Tiff's assistant, and Aubrey. Together they dished food onto four different plates while Aubrey rattled off a hundred different reasons why chickens were mistreated in some factory back east.

  "God, she never shuts up." Sunny handed Paige an elastic band over her shoulder. "Have either of you ever worked with Aubrey before?"

  "Nope." Paige swept her red hair over her shoulder and leaned down between Sunny and Madison. "Maybe she's brand new, and we can hope some guy will come in here and wipe the happiness from her face."

  Sunny turned her gaze on Madison. "How about you? Do you know her?"

  Madison shook her head.

  Sunny raised her arched brow. "Are you brand new?"

  Again, Madison shook her head. She'd worked for the Network for the last six years, starting a few months after her eighteenth birthday. She'd lost track of how many men she'd slept with after her second night working.

  "Just my luck. I'm stuck living with a mute and a chick who won't shut up for the next three months." Sunny pulled the end of her braid over her shoulder. "This will be the longest quarter of my life."

  Madison leaned against the table and picked up the notepad and pen on the table. Used to writing in response to others, she wrote. "Walk out now and it'll be the shortest."

  She slid the notepad in front of Sunny.

  Sunny read the message and looked up. "You'd like that wouldn't you?"

  Madison lifted her shoulder. She refused to care about anyone working at Red Light. Her job required her to entertain men, not women.

  "Whatever." Sunny crossed her arms underneath her fake breasts. "I'm starving."

  Paige sat down on the other side of Sunny. "First days are always long and tiring. The last place I was at only opened after midnight. It's nice to know we'll have some downtime at night."

  The working hours never bothered Madison. Red Light required them all to stay in the building, except for a weekly trip to the doctor. Every day the same, she worked, slept, worked, slept. She never minded what hours the customers came visiting. She could sleep whether the sun came through her window lighting the room or her bedroom remained pitch black.

  Marci carried the plates to the table, set the food down, and straightened her apron over her slim figure. "Eat up, ladies. I'll remind you until everyone has the routine down that you'll have forty-five minutes to eat, be loud, stomp around the place if you want. There's nobody else allowed in the building while you're working and you have dinner."

  Oven roasted chicken, brown rice, and a side of broccoli and cheese in front of her boosted her appetite. She ate while listening to Aubrey ask everyone if they needed pepper. She shook her head at the appropriate time.

  Marci passed out napkins. "At ten o'clock, the downstairs opens to the public for the Silver Girls who dance until two o'clock. The music filters to the upstairs. I'm afraid you'll have to get used to the noise if you're going to use that time to sleep. There are ear plugs in your room in each nightstand—"

  "Madison won't have to worry about that," muttered Sunny.

  "There's no reason to be rude. Please. She's unable to talk, but she can hear." Marci softened her voice and continued. "At ten thirty, if you'd like you can go out on the balcony off your room or take the stairs up to the roof where you'll have more room. In the past, the ladies liked to exercise up there and enjoy the night air. Curfew is at two o'clock, and you must be inside. Our concern is for your safety. There will be men drinking downstairs and enjoying themselves while they watch the dancers. We do not want you attracting attention, so you must be inside before the men leave Silver Girls. I'll be around if you need anything, either in my room or here in
the kitchen. Tiff knows you all need your privacy and time away from working and wants to make your down time as pleasant as possible, considering you're grounded to the upstairs and the designated spots outside."

  Sunny wagged her finger from her chest to Paige, already making plans. Madison forked her broccoli. Wherever those two planned to go, she'd do the opposite, even if she got stuck with Aubrey.

  A knock came from behind Madison. "Evening, ladies."

  Tiff Carter hurried into the room. Madison wiped her mouth on the napkin. On arrival, she found herself admiring Tiff. Most of the time, madams were retired prostitutes who lived a life of luxury and hard living. They ruled over their flock with harsh words and an even heavier hand as if the current ladies would never be as sexy, hardworking, or successful as they were in their prime.

  Instead, Tiff presented herself with an air of class and compassion. Tonight, Tiff wore a sexy, pale pink cocktail dress paired with matching heels that shimmered in the light. Her blond hair curled at the ends swung against her back.

  "You all did awesome tonight." Tiff held on to the back of an empty chair. "As you get used to the customers and the routine, please let me know if there's anything that doesn't work for you or you'd like to change."

  Madison wiped her mouth on a napkin and put her hands on her lap. Never one to make demands, she wouldn't need to go to Tiff with any complaints. She sold sex for money. The act meant nothing to her, except a way to make a living with skills any woman possessed. She took the easy way out, instead of going to college or putting her time in working at another dissatisfying job she'd end up losing because she was mute, she used her God-given body to please men.

  At the end of the day, she had a full bank account, a roof over her head, and no one told her how to live. What she chose to do with her body was nobody else's business.

  "Okay, ladies. I need to get ready for tonight." Tiff walked to the door. "Enjoy your night."

  Madison gazed over her shoulder admiring the woman's positive attitude and caught Jeremy waiting for the madam. She pursed her lips and studied the couple. In a hopeless career, how had Tiff found love and support?