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Free Falling	By : CertainUncertainty Category: +S through Z > Saints Row Views: 1633 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Saints Row: The Third or any of its characters, nor do I make a profit from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Somewhere, his phone was going off. Ugh. Jamien pulled a pillow off of his head and groaned when light hit his face. It was morning. He reached across the bed, remembering that someone was supposed to be there, and found it cool and empty. "Fuck." At the same time, his phone stopped ringing. He sighed and sat up, running a hand through his hair in an effort to finger comb it. He underestimated how tired he'd been. He could hear one of the TVs downstairs tuned to some random channel, and also the clinking of dishes. His phone began vibrating and ringing again, slowly moving towards the edge of the end table. He snatched it up, pressed the answer button, and pressed the cool plastic to his ear. "What?"
"I've been trying to reach you all morning! Where the hell have you been?" Jamien never pegged Kinzie to be a morning person anyway.
"It's called sleeping. Perhaps you haven't heard of it yet?" Jamien fell back onto the bed. "What's wrong, Kinzie?"
"Normally, I don't spend too much time listening in the Steelport police radio conversations, but I figured after yesterday I might be able to pick up something about STAG."
"Did you?"
"Yes," She hesitated before continuing, "but it wasn't what I thought it would be about. STAG's commander has issued an Amber Alert for a Denitra Fuller. He believes she's being held against her will by the Saints. The police have orders from the Chief to stop any car with Saints colors and search and question all members of the gang."
"Wow. All of that just for one girl?"
"Apparently, she's important to somebody. I was able to hack into their system and pull a picture of her." Jamien's phone gave a quiet ding, an alert to a new picture message. He didn't bother to look at it. "Right now, I'm using the FBI's database to pull background information, to see who she is and what she's involved in. One question, do we have her?"
Jamien sighed. "Yes. She's here with me now."
"Why is she with you? Is she a friend of yours?"
"Not exactly. It's a long story, Kinzie, but she's gonna be with us for a bit longer."
"How much longer?"
"A week at the most."
"Well, if that's the case, then I have to keep an eye on the police and STAG as well as the Syndicate gangs."
"Unless you have nothing else to do, don't bother. We all will have to just wear different clothes and drive different cars for a while. It isn't a big deal. If nothing else, it gives us an advantage over our enemies by suddenly adopting a new look. You stay focused on the Deckers."
"If you're sure..."
"I am. Trust me. This just makes things more interesting."
"Well, make it more interesting. Take her somewhere and give her a makeover, so she's not recognizable by anyone looking for her."
"Good idea. Thanks, Kinzie." He hung up without warning and got out of the bed, going over to the railing to look down into the kitchen. "Good morning, sunshine."
Denitra looked up at him from her bowl of cereal and rolled her eyes.
Jamien laughed and went to the bathroom, taking time to bathe, change his clothes, comb his hair, and shave. When he came downstairs, Denitra was still at the kitchen island, watching some silly game show. "How did you sleep last night? I thought you'd sleep a little longer. It's only," he looked at his watch, "10:15."
She didn't answer, instead filling her mouth with another spoonful of cinnamon sugar squares. He shrugged it off and got a bowl of cereal for himself, taking the time to think about his moves and options. "So, I realize that if you're gonna be here for a week, you'll need clothes to wear."
"And I had clothes in the trunk of the car we were in." She snapped, getting up to wash her dishes.
Jamien pursed his lips and nodded. "Right. Sorry about that. Well, I'll take you shopping once you're ready."
"Let me go, and you won't have to bother."
"What about our compromise?"
"I have to have some sort of hope you'll change your mind and just let me walk out of here."
Jamien shook his head. "Not happening. You're fun to have around when Shaundi's near, like a rattle to a cat."
She frowned. "And when she's not around?"
Jamien nodded, seeing her point. "Eh, we'll figure out something."
Once he finished his bowl, he waited at the elevator for her. "Come on, Dee! Let's go!"
She came down the stairs reluctantly. "You don't get to call me that."
"Why not?" He pressed the button to call the elevator.
"Only my friends can call me Dee, and you," she pointed to him, "are nowhere close to being a friend of mine."
He put a hand over his heart, pretending to be severely wounded. "My lady, you wound me!"
"Asshole." She turned away from him and stepped into the elevator. Jamien smiled at her the entire ride down and she glared at him in return.
"Morning Boss." Various lower-level Saints members occupied the entertainment room of Safeword, men and women alike, receiving dances from the strippers of their choice or being lead to a private room for much, much more.
"Ew." Denitra's face scrunched up in disgust. Jamien chuckled, remembering their chat about STDs and couches. He was willing to bet she was imagining all the cooties all over the place. "This is hell."
"If this is what hell is like, sign me up now." Jamien put a hand to the small of her back to coax her forward.
"Don't touch me!" She hissed and moved forward a little bit.
"Then move it." He whispered to her, scanning the room for one person.
"Jamien!"
He stilled and waited until her hands went around his waist, pulling him against her body. He knew those squishy tits anywhere. "Candi, how are you?"
She peeked around his arm, looking up at him with hazel eyes. "Lonely. I heard you came in last night but you never called me to join you. What's up with that?"
Denitra crossed her arms over her chest upon hearing the girl's name then turned away.
Jamien turned around to face her. "I was tired and needed some sleep." He shrugged.
Candi's gaze moved from him to the girl behind him and she pouted, pushing a blonde strand of weave out of her face. "New chick? You could have still invited me up, J. I don't mind sharing and caring with your new play toys."
Jamien rubbed his thumb on her apricot tinted cheek. "She's not a play toy. She's a guest of mine who'll be around for a few more days so I really won't be able to spend time with you."
"Oh." Candi frowned. "Okay, then. Well, you know I'll always be down here if you change your mind."
Jamien smiled brightly, satisfied when Candi's frown changed to a dazed smile. "Thanks for understanding." He turned away from her to find Denitra swatting at a stripper who was trying to get the girl to dance with her.
"Would you just get the hell away from me?" She hissed, backing up into Jamien. He moved to the side of her and grabbed her by her arm, leading her to the front of the building.
"Hey, Boss?"
He turned around to see one of the Saints members. "What?"
"I caught her coming out of the elevator earlier this morning. Pierce said to let you know."
Jamien gave her a questioning look but Denitra just shrugged. "Thank you. I'll have a little talk with her. Can you do me a favor? Run down to the garage and bring up that all black Hammerhead to the front?"
"Yes, sir."
"Also, tell every member here that if they go out, no colors. We're still laying low from yesterday."
"Got it."
As the runt dashed off, he turned back to Denitra. "So that's why you have an attitude."
"I don't have an attitude."
He just stared at her. "You know what you need? A makeover."
"What?"
"You heard me. You need to be pampered by complete strangers and come out looking like one."
"Like what?"
"A complete stranger."
"You've lost your fucking mind." She tried to yank her arm away from him, but he had a vice grip on her. "Let me go!"
"I didn't lose my mind." He looked back at her as he pushed the door open, stepping out into the bright morning sun. "It ran away."
Jamien opened the passenger door and gestured for her to get in. At first she refused, but he threatened to toss her inside so she changed her mind. He slid into the driver side, making the leather seat squeal. The car roared to life and Jamien gave it a little gas, mindful to try to obey the street signs and not commit vehicular manslaughter to avoid getting the attention of Steelport finest. While he drove, he took note of the increased number of policemen patrolling the streets and freeway. 'They mean business when it comes to finding this girl. Just who in the hell is she?' Within thirty minutes, they were in front of Image As Designed in Loren Square.
"Why are we here?" Denitra tore her gaze from the building to look at Jamien. He only smiled and unbuckled their seat belts.
"I thought you'd like to get your nails done or something."
She frowned, leaning away from him a little. "No thanks. I don't really like using random salons."
He got out of the car and moved to her door, opening it for her. "Just this once, go in and have fun." He guided her away from the car and shut the door, then put his hand at the small of her back then guided her up the steps into the building.
"Welcome to Image As Designed, are you Bruce Wayne?" The clerk at the desk gave them a mega watt smile. Jamien rolled his eyes but nodded. Kinzie must have made them an appointment; she had a habit of setting his appointments there with random aliases. "Glad you could make it in sir!"
The leggy green eyed blond hopped out of her chair and came around to the lobby to greet them, shaking Jamien's hand. "It said that you were bringing a friend in. Is this the young lady?"
"Yes, this is Dee."
"Don't-"
"Great! Nice to meet you Dee. My name is Helena and I'll be in charge of your makeover today!"
"Why are you so exci-"
"Now," Helena turned to Jamien, still holding his hand. "Did you have anything particular in mind? Like hairstyle, skin color, weight or height-"
"Nothing drastic. I still want to be able to look at her face and know its her. Just change her hair, add makeup, and pamper her hands and feet. You know, basic girly stuff." He waved them off, taking a seat and grabbing a magazine. Jamien had thumbed through four other magazines before the girls reappeared.
"What do you think about her now?" Helena gestured to the empty space beside her. She frowned and reached through the door, yanking Denitra out into the lobby. Her brown hair was now as black as his except with a glossy sheen in a cleopatra cut, complete with purple bangs. He could tell she was wearing makeup, but it wasn't heavy except for the eyeliner and mascara. Not an extreme makeover, but definitely different from whatever pictures of her the police had.
"It works for me."
"I'm glad you like it sir. Would you like anything done for yourself then?"
"No thank you. You've done enough." Jamien turned towards the door, not bothering to see if Denitra would follow.
"Well, thank you for choosing Image As Designed!" Helen shouted as the door shut behind them.
"How do you feel?" He asked going around to his side of the car and getting in.
She didn't answer at first, but he could tell by her body language that it wasn't a bad thing. "I don't know." She mumbled, buckling her seat belt.
"What made you choose purple?" He nodded his head towards her own. Curiosity killed the cat.
She reached up and gently fingered her hair. "It's my favorite color."
"Really? And it doesn't bother you that it's the Saints' color?"
"Of course it does. But I know why you wanted me to go in there. I'm not stupid. I heard you on the phone this morning. I heard you when you told that guy to have everyone else start dressing differently, not to wear the Saints' color. I figured if you suddenly decreased the number of marked gang bangers, the police will catch on. They'll just have to look for little clues. Most women will change their clothes, but not their hair." She smiled, proud of herself. "The police will realize that just like I did and will start going after your girls. It may be subtle, but they'll notice the purple in my hair. All I need is their attention, the rest will take care of itself."
Jamien sat there, impressed by her wit. "No, really, is this what college does to people? Why aren't more people going?"
She scoffed and folded her arms angrily, turning away from him to look out the window. He started the car and quickly pulled away from the curb, heading out into traffic. He had to admit, she had a point. And with that point, she'd given him an idea. With that hairstyle, one could mistake her for a low-level Saint. With the right outfit, she could both blend in and stand out. He gunned it, heading back towards Rosen Oaks for his favorite clothing store.
"What in the hell are we doing here?" Denitra's voice held caution and fear.
"We're going shopping for your clothes." Jamien smiled innocently. She immediately narrowed her eyes and sneered at him. "What? What's wrong with this store?"
"Leather & Lace?" She looked at the shop. "It's a sex clothes store!"
"Honestly, I wasn't aware that sex required clothes."
"Okay, a foreplay clothes store."
"Hm... Okay, I'll give you that." He opened his door and got out quickly, all but dragging her inside. "But it has regular clothes too."
She gave him a skeptical look then pointed at a mannequin dressed in a Pleasure and Pain bondage suit. "Regular?"
Jamien looked at it, shrugged, and said, "Well, not everything here looks like that." He pointed to a mannequin closer to the front doors. "See?"
Denitra looked at it with interest, then shook her head and moved towards the door. "I'm not buying anything from here."
"Why not?" Jamien caught her wrist and held onto it, leading her through the store.
"I don't like showing off too much skin."
"Okay, what about this?" He pointed to a rack with Naughty Time bustiers and matching skirts. "I think you'd look very nice in this."
She tried to yank away from him. "I bet you would. I'm not putting that shit on."
"Okay, if you don't pick something, I will. And you will wear it, one way or another. So it's either this outfit, or the leather catsuit over there." He paused. "In fact, I insist you pick that one. It doesn't show any skin, but it grips every curve just right."
She slapped his arm and yanked away hard, bruising her wrist a bit. She stalked over to a rack and picked out a black tube top with a matching purple and black jacket and black bondage pants with a studded black belt. "Happy?"
"What about shoes? And undies?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at her. She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, muttering curses under her breath as she wandered over to the lingerie section. He tried to seem more interested in just how one would go about putting on the bondage outfit, but stole glances at her as she browsed. She picked up a bra with a huge heart on one of the cups and glared at him. "Sorry. It's in my DNA."
"Whatever, fucking pervert."
His phone started going off in his pocket. "Oh, look. Someone other than Kinzie remembers me." He pulled it out and tapped the screen. A text message from his insurance fraud partner in crime. Even better, the location was right outside of the store. He glanced up at Denitra, who was now picking out panties, and quickly replied.
"Do you want me to get shoes too?"
"Grab everything you need."
"Fine." He looked up in time to see her grab studded black Rebel sandals. "Not bad."
"All the better to kick you with, my dear."
"If you haven't noticed by now, I have a thing for pain." He gave her a wicked smile. A jewelry rack caught his attention, with items marked for clearance. What did Shaundi say about angry women and jewelry? He'd been high at the time and didn't expect to need to remember her words later on. "Hell." He went with his gut, and picked up a set that included purple Queen of Hearts earrings, Promise necklace, and True Love ring set. He dropped it on top of the stack of clothes in her arms. "To complete the outfit."
She looked down at the jewelry, surprised. She paid special attention to the Promise necklace then looked up at him, skeptical as she tried to hide her smile. "That's it? Just to complete the outfit?"
He shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yep."
"You're not trying to put the moves on me or anything, are you? 'Cause I've already told you, you're a Saint-"
The look he gave her made the words die in her throat. He liked being able to render her speechless with just the right expression. "Just take it. Think of it as a half-assed apology for getting you shot at yesterday."
She closed her mouth and frowned. "Nothing can make up for that. And why would you want to?"
He shrugged again and smiled wider. "Ever do something just because?"
"I don't trust you."
"And I wouldn't trust you if you did." He walked over to the cashier, motioning for her to follow.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Free Falling