So this is my first real attempt at a Jexie fanfiction, other than a one-part story I wrote a while ago (One Boy, One Girl). It takes place in the future, but with flashbacks. I'm anxious to know all of your thoughts and feelings, so I'm going to try something that I've seen other people do here and say that new chapters will not be posted until there have been a significant number of replies. Say, at least ten per chapter. So read, reply, and most importantly, enjoy!

-Sky

Chapter One

Miami, Florida, 2011

"You get your slimy hands off me! I told you, I don't do no slimy, dirty old men," the barely-dressed young woman snarled at the middle-aged man who guided her bodily across the room. She spotted the young, handsome man walking toward them and smiled at him. "You're more my taste, baby, you want to cavity search me?"

The young man grinned. "Maybe another time." He nodded to the older gentleman. "Fun night, Frank?"

"Morning, Jesse," Frank answered good-naturedly as he continued to pull the handcuffed woman toward the holding cells.

The phone rang on a nearby desk. Jesse grabbed it.

"Miami Police Department. Detective Beaudry. Hey. Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell him." He hung up the phone. "Hey Cap, Morales got another tip. He's on the way in."

Captain John Stillman looked up, beckoning the young detective into his office.

"Beaudry."

"Sir."

"Beaudry," the captain repeated, "whatever Morales brings in, I want you on it tonight. I'm going to assign you and a few of the other officers to cover some of the locations that have been cited and let's clean up this trash."

Jesse nodded. "Has it been determined if they're all connected to one pimp or just a spread of lonely working girls?"

"Nothing's official, but it seems to be a ring."

Jesse nodded. "Just tell me what to do."

"You're going to let one of those girls pick you up," Captain Stillman told him.

"You want me to…"

"Well, don't get too excited, Beaudry. I'm not giving you an assignment to bang a hooker. Just do what you need to do to get her to talk."

Jesse nodded. "All right."

"I want this cleaned up, Beaudry."

Jesse nodded again. "I'll do what I can, sir."

"Good man."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now get out."

"Yes sir."

12:09 a.m.

Jesse waited by the black Honda, parked in the shadows.

A scantily-dressed woman leaned against the abandoned storefront window across the street, posing seductively.

As he began to move out of the shadows toward her, the light from a passing car hit her, illuminating her silver bracelet with a twisted heart on her left wrist.

Jesse's mouth went dry. Stepping back into the darkness, he watched her. Her hair was jet black, but he knew it was probably a wig. He let his eyes roam her body, remembering the lines and curves.

"Jesus Christ," he swore under his breath.

Opening the car door, he reached into the glove compartment, pulling out his gun and tucking it into the back of his pants, concealing the weapon beneath his dark leather jacket.

Staying in the shadows, he ran until he was out of sight, dashed across the street, circling around into the alley behind her.

Moving quietly, he drew the gun from his back, coming up behind her.

He grabbed her around the neck, pushing the gun into her back.

"Scream and I swear I'll shoot you dead," he ordered gruffly, dropping his voice as low as it would go.

She whimpered and tried to turn. He yanked her roughly.

"Don't try to look at me!"

Holding the gun in her back, he used his other hand to yank the silky black scarf from around her neck.

"Tie it around your eyes," he demanded.

"Okay, okay," she panted, obliging. Reaching around her, he tied the long hanging ends around her wrists, effectively shackling her.

They were alone. No cars passed. No other person walked nearby.

Jesse shoved her roughly. "Move. Now. Not a god damn word."

He hurried her across the street, opened the drivers' door and shoved her across the seat.

He pushed her head so that it faced away from him.

"I'll do anything you want," she begged, "just please don't hurt me."

He knew she was too stubborn to let herself be the victim. It was only a matter of time before she started to fight back.

Using one hand to start the car, he held the barrel of his gun to her head with the other, shoving the cold steel against her temple.

As he started to drive, he kept his eyes on the road, glancing at her every few seconds. He could hear her frightened, gasping breaths.

Pulling on to an empty stretch of highway, he accelerated to 75 miles an hour, driving the dark road.

Lowering the gun, he placed it underneath his seat.

She whimpered.

Jesse reached over with his free hand, releasing the knots around her wrists.

"I won't hurt you," he said slowly, no longer disguising his voice. "You can take off the blindfold."

Barely breathing, she pulled the scarf from her face, turning to look at him, her eyes filled with angry, terrified tears.

"Jesse?" she asked, shocked, disbelieving.

He offered a small hint of a smile. "Hi Maxie. It's been a long time."