Page 121 of In Too Deep

That earned a genuine grin.

“Alright, like I said, came for the men.” Brodie stretched out on the cushions. “One in particular.”

Harrison glanced down at the floorboards. Brodie was determined to get him to bite about Jake. So he wouldn’t.

“There was a marking on Lauren’s body. A tattoo.”

Brodie narrowed his eyes.

“Outreach workers in Hull referenced seeing similar markings among sex workers.” Harrison tilted his neck. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Brodie looked away. And a definite shift ran through him. Small, but unmistakable. Harrison stayed quiet. Let him feel the silence.

Then carefully: “Would you have any idea what a tattoo like that might signify?”

Brodie’s jaw worked once before the answer slipped out quieter than before. “Means you belong.”

The phrasing was odd. Not chosen. Conditioned. As if explained that way to him once upon a time and repeated often enough to root itself beneath his skin while having it permanently inked on it.

“Belong to whom?”

Brodie’s breathing became erratic. Then he stood abruptly from the sofa and shoved the waistband of his joggers low enough to expose the tattoo sitting sharp and black on pale skin near the crease of his hip. Low. Intimate. Deliberately placed. Partly obscured by hair and newer ink curling around it without ever quite hiding it.

“Like that, were it?”

Harrison forced himself to keep his reaction neutral and returned his gaze to Brodie’s face. “Yes.”

Brodie let the waistband snap back into place. “Then she should’ve just done what they wanted.”

“What does that mean?”

Brodie shrugged and wandered a step away again, but Harrison could see the tension beneath all the mockery. It practically seeped off him. “Means someone thought they owned her.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know.” Brodie rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “You lot always think there’s some big bloke in a dark room giving orders. It’s not like that.”

“Then explain it to me.”

Brodie looked out of the rain-streaked window. “No one explains owt. You get invited places. And you go if you need money badly enough. Sometimes you get asked back if you behave.” He looked down. “Sometimes you don’t get much choice. All the time you do what they bloody well ask.”

“What do they ask?”

Brodie looked at him. “You’re police. Surely you know exactly what.”

“Humour me.”

“To bend over, mostly.”

Harrison nodded. “And how do you get invited? Who tattooed you?”

“Someone tells you to get the tattoo. Says it’ll open doors. Don’t tell you that you might not want what’s on the other side of them.”

“And what is?”

“Men. Usually lots of them. All telling you what to do.”

“And how do you know where to go? And when?”