Running From Empty (Men of the Vault Book 3)

  Running From Empty

  Men of the Vault #3

  Aria Grace

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher or author, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  Running From Empty

  Published by Surrendered Press

  Copyright 2018 Aria Grace

  1

  Tanner

  My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and my whole body aches. I can’t remember the last time I had the flu, but if that’s what this is, I’m gonna kick Edge’s ass. He invited himself over on Sunday to watch the game while Liam was out with Alexi. And the whole time he was at my house, he was coughing germs all over the place and whining about feeling like shit. I should’ve known not to let that asshole inside when he was carrying a box of tissues.

  I hit the speaker button on my phone and call Asher. “How many more?”

  “That was the last guy on the schedule, but there’s a kid lingering out front that I’m guessing is working up the nerve to come in.”

  I roll my eyes. “Go ask him if he wants to talk to me or not. I’m about to go home for the day, so I can’t wait around for his balls to drop.”

  I only schedule open interviews every four months. But when I do, there are usually thirty or forty guys anxious to prove they have what it takes to work at The Vault. Over the past week, I met with about thirty-five such guys interested in signing away the next twelve months of their life in exchange for $200,000. They’d be my live-in employee for a year, allowing my clients to use their body as they wish without complaint. It’s not for everyone, but for those who are comfortable working in the sex industry, it’s a lucrative gig.

  Of course, not everyone I meet with will make the cut. There were a few guys who probably won’t pass the stringent medical tests I require before I can even consider adding someone to my stable. And a few others were just divas, and I don’t have time for that shit. I hire guys who will do what they’re told without whining. I want them to be happy about the large payday they’ll get at the end of their stay without a lot of supervision or intervention.

  In addition to the $200,000 I pay for their year of service, my guys earn very generous bonuses and tips on a nightly basis. It’s not uncommon to earn half a million dollars during their yearlong stay with me.

  But quality control matters.

  So, the requirements I’ve put in place to earn a spot aren’t easy to meet.

  Just as I close my laptop, Asher pokes his head inside my doorway. “He said he’s looking for a job. Do you have time for one more?”

  I blow out a slow breath and slump back in my chair. “Yeah, send him in.”

  The kid who walks in after Asher disappears can’t be a day older than eighteen, and that’s being generous. I don’t mind them young as long as they completely understand what they’re signing up for. But someone this young is usually running from trouble. And I’ve had more than my share of that lately and don’t need any more. Unfortunately for this kid, things aren’t looking good so far.

  “Come on in.” I wave to the chair on the other side of my desk. “Have a seat.”

  The kid’s grey eyes are staring right at me as if he’s afraid to look away. He doesn’t take his eyes off my face even as he steps in front of the chair and sits down.

  “I’m Tanner, owner of The Vault. Let’s start with you telling me a bit about yourself. Your name, age, how you heard about us, why you want to work at the The Vault… The basics.”

  “My name is Ian Johnson.” He clears his throat and squares his shoulders, summoning the courage to speak. “I’m eighteen, just graduated from high school, and I’m from Denver, Colorado.”

  His gaze is penetrating, as if he’s waiting for some kind of reaction.

  Despite my best efforts to maintain my façade, he gets one. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as I take a closer look at this kid. Anytime I meet someone from Denver, I wonder who they really are and what they really want. Memories I generally keep repressed come rushing to the forefront of my mind from the painful period when I was just fifteen years old. The time when I lost everyone who mattered to me.

  “How did you hear about The Vault?” I reach for a tissue and cough into it, pissed that I’m showing such weakness and frailty in front of a potential employee. This isn’t the first impression I like to make, but I’m sick and there’s not much I can do about it right now.

  “I just moved to Vegas a few days ago. I was looking for a job that paid good enough that I can get an apartment, and some guy told me about this place.” The kid’s gaze finally wanders away from me, and he’s checking out the room. His keen interest in a fake orchid sitting on my credenza either means he likes flowers or he’s lying. And his torn jeans and Under Armor hoodie don’t exactly scream “flower lover” to me.

  “Who’s the guy?” Keeping my tone calm isn’t easy in my present condition. I’m annoyed and exhausted, and that’s probably apparent in my words. But this kid doesn’t even flinch.

  He just shrugs and looks at my eyes briefly before biting the inside of his cheek and looking down at his lap. “I don’t remember his name. I met him in a casino. He said I should come by if I wanted to work.” His eyes finally meet mine and hold again. “Are you still hiring or am I too late?”

  Something about this kid gives me a weird feeling. And one thing I learned a long time ago is to follow my gut. “Actually, I just filled the last opening, but I can keep your information on file in case we have any mid-season openings.”

  His shoulders drop, and his jaw quickly follows. “But you haven’t even given me a chance. I can be really good. I swear. You can even do one of those auction things for my…you know.”

  “Auction?” I reach for a tissue and cough again. “What are you talking about? The only time auctions are useful—” I pause as the realization hits me. “Shit, are you a virgin?”

  “Doesn’t that make me worth more than some guy who’s been around for a while?” His cheeks are beet red either from embarrassment or determination—I’m not sure which. “I swear, you won’t regret it.”

  Okay, now that uneasy feeling is back. “You know what, kid. I don’t think this is right for you. You should check out the casinos. They have great programs that will train you to become a dealer or to work in hospitality. I can’t help you here.”

  “So that’s it?” He stands up, shaking his head in frustration. “You’re just dismissing me?”

  “I’m sorry.” I sneeze then reach for a tissue to blow my nose before tossing it into the quickly filling basket under my desk. “I’ve got a cold, and it’s late. And honestly, I don’t think you’re right for what we’re looking for. But I wish you well, kid.”

  Ian stares at me for a minute before turning away in disgust. “She was right,” he mumbles under his breath before walking out the door.

  I don’t know who he’s talking about, but I don’t really have time to care. I need to get home and chug some NyQuil so I can try to sleep off whatever bug I’ve got.

  As usual, it takes another twenty minutes for me to get things wrapped up so I can actually leave the premises. I like to stay on site in the evenings to make sure everything runs smoothly, but Johnny has things under control. As the head of security, he’ll keep everyone in line while I’m out.

  Besides, the longer I stay, the more people I’m infecting
with my germs. I just need to get home and away from everyone while I’m still contagious. I have quarters on the compound that I could stay in, but right now, I just want to be in my apartment. I have a large suite overlooking the Strip, and if I’m going to be holed up in bed for a few days, I’d rather be there so I can wallow in misery by myself. Besides, Rosa will bring chicken soup to the apartment, so that makes the twenty-minute drive back to the city worth it.

  I’m only a few minutes off the property when I see a single person walking down the side of the deserted road. No one ever walks out here alone at night because it’s a long ass trek into town, so I slow down to see who it is. Before I even pull over, I instantly recognize Ian Johnson, the guy I just rejected in my office. Why the fuck is he out here on foot by himself?

  2

  Ian

  I flick a tear off my eyelid before it has the chance to drop. I shouldn’t be surprised. Mom told me he wouldn’t want anything to do with me, and she was right. I should’ve listened to her. But I didn’t, and now I’ve hurt the only other person in the world who gives a damn about me.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  I thought maybe I’d start making better decisions when I officially became an adult, but that’s clearly not the case. Now I have nowhere left to go. My dad… well, the man I always thought with my dad, would take me back. He always said I would have a home with him no matter what. But I don’t think I can ever face him again. Not after what I said to him, and definitely not after the way I left.

  Landon Johnson was my mom’s boyfriend when they were in high school. She got pregnant with me when she was sixteen. They tried to stay together for a few years before he came out as gay and broke it off. She thought having a baby would be easy, but her parents disowned her when she dropped out of college because it was too hard to take care of me and go to school. So, I grew up bouncing between their two homes in Denver.

  Coming out here was a dumb idea. I don’t know why I thought I could just show up on this guy’s doorstep and he’d welcome me with open arms. Especially since I was too afraid to tell him who I really am. Or who he really is.

  My birth father.

  If he’d actually hired me, I don’t know what I would’ve done. I guess I would’ve told him before anything weird happened, but when I was sitting there in his office, I just couldn’t make the words come out. Besides, do I even want him as my father? Rodman Tanner is basically a pimp. In the letter Mom left for me after she died, she gave me his name and birthdate, but that was as much information as she had.

  I used the last of Mom’s insurance money to hire someone to find his location and to buy a bus ticket to Vegas. Now, I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to go back to Dad with my tail between my legs. But he may be my only option. It’s just so hard for me to forgive him for lying to me for all these years. I grew up believing he was my dad, but when we did blood typing at school, I realized pretty quickly that Landon couldn’t be my father. Neither my mom nor my dad would tell me the truth, so I’ve been wondering for the past two years.

  The dark road lights up as a car approaches me from behind. That’s when the stupidity of being out here alone really sinks in. I scoot off the shoulder as far as I can, but then I think about the eyes that are reflecting back at me through the deeper brush. I’ve never been particularly fond of rabid wildlife and don’t want to encounter any now.

  A black Maserati pulls over to the side of the road about twenty feet in front of me, and I stop in place, preparing to run through the rabies infested field if needed. The driver’s door opens and a tall man with a solid build steps out of the car and leans one elbow against the roof. “Hey, kid. You need a lift into town?”

  The voice is familiar, so I take a few steps forward.

  It’s him.

  Tanner.

  Maybe this is my opportunity to come clean. I start walking again, heading for his car. “Uh, yeah. That’d be great.”

  He watches until I’m at the passenger door, then he slips inside the car. When we’re both buckled in, Tanner rests his hand on the gear shifter then turns to me. “Where are you staying?”

  “I just need to get closer to any place that has a cheap hotel.”

  “You don’t have a place to stay?” He slips the car into gear and takes off down the road.

  It’s embarrassing how ill prepared I am for this stupid plan of mine, but at this point, I’ve got nothing to lose. Any dignity I might’ve had was lost when I told him I was a virgin and that he could auction me off to some perverted tourist. “Not officially. I didn’t make any firm plans because I wanted to see how things worked out with The Vault.”

  Tanner shakes his head in disapproval. “What was your original plan when you got to Vegas?”

  I turn to him, not sure what he means. “What?”

  “You said you heard about The Vault after you got into town. Before you heard about it, what was your plan?”

  I clear my throat and look right at his profile. He has the same color eyes as me, but I have my mom’s nose. “I’m looking for someone.”

  “Who?” He looks me right in the eye, waiting for me to answer.

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think I’m gonna find him.”

  Tanner is quiet for several minutes, but as we get closer to the city, he taps his thumb on the steering wheel and keeps glancing at me. “So, are you going back home or do you plan to stay in town?”

  I shrug and stare out the windshield. “I don’t have much to go home to. I guess I’ll look for another job and see what happens.”

  Tanner sneezes three times in a row. Just like I do. I can’t help wrapping my arms around my stomach at the loss I feel over being so close to my biological father but not having the balls to tell him.

  He lets out a heavy sigh and takes the exit toward the Strip. “I know some guys in security at Bellagio. I can ask them if they have any training programs starting up soon.”

  “Really?” A spark of hope flares in my belly. “You’d do that for a stranger?”

  He shrugs and nods. “I’ve been where you’re at and people helped me along the way. I’d invite you to stay at my place, but I’ve got a cold. I’m sure you don’t want to get sick.”

  I turn my head slowly and give him an incredulous look.

  He glances at me and then out the windshield then he sighs. “Fine, you want to spend the night? I have a spare bedroom. I’ll probably crash pretty quick, but you can watch TV or use my computer if you need to.”

  A small smile forms on my lips, and that spark of hope turns into a flame. “Yeah, okay.”

  When Tanner said he had a suite in a casino, I didn’t know what to expect. I imagined a hotel room and a small sitting room attached with a pull-out sofa, similar to the rooms we stayed in on our few family vacations. But this apartment is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s bigger than Dad’s house, and his house is pretty nice. There’s a full-size kitchen, a formal dining room, a huge living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook Las Vegas, and large bedrooms on both sides of the apartment.

  “You can order whatever you want from room service.” Tanner lifts up a menu off the coffee table and holds it up to show me. “I’ll have Rosa bring up breakfast in the morning. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I’m standing in the entryway holding my bag like an idiot. But I’m not sure where to go yet. Tanner walks into the bedroom on the left, kicking his shoes off just inside the door.

  “You can have that room.” He points to the open door on the other side of the living room. “There should be a robe in there, but if you need anything washed, just put it in one of the plastic bags in the closet and call the number printed on it. They’ll bring everything back within twelve hours.”

  “Thank you.” I take a few tentative steps toward the bedroom then stop and turn toward Tanner. “I really appreciate you letting me stay here. I’m not sure where I’d be right now if you hadn’t brought me here.”

  Tanner’s e
yes are stuck on me even though he looks exhausted. He nods and gives me a small smile. “Yeah. Don’t mention it. I know how hard the streets can be and I don’t think you’re ready for that.”

  I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything in response. I just nod back and then turn into the bedroom. I hear a click as Tanner closes his door, but I leave mine open, hoping I’ll find a way to talk to him before he sends me on my way.

  3

  Tanner

  I roll over in bed slowly, feeling like I’ve been hit by a truck. Why does everything hurt like hell? I pat the side of my bed until I feel the cold glass of my phone screen. Squinting, I read the clock.

  11:43 PM.

  Unless I’ve slept for over twenty-three hours, that wasn’t much of a nap. But my bladder is screaming for me to get my ass up, so I force myself out of bed to take a piss. My throat is killing me, and I briefly consider calling like concierge to bring me some medicine, but there’s tea and honey in the pantry. That’s good enough for now.

  Groggy from my nap, I stumble out to the kitchen to boil some water. Once the kitchen light is on, I realize the guestroom door is open. Did Ian leave while I was asleep? After putting the kettle on the stove, I dig through the cabinets until I find a box of orange cinnamon tea. I don’t know if it’ll clear my head, but it sounds good. My eyes still feel grainy and heavy as I stand at the stove, tapping my fingers on the marble while I wait for the water to heat.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  I stop myself from flinching at the unexpected voice behind me. Slowly, I turn and lean against the countertop with my ankles crossed and my arms over my chest. “A little bit. What are you doing up?”

  He shrugs. “I couldn’t sleep. And then I saw you turn on the light, so I figured I’d see how you were doing.”