Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
He announced himself as Sledge when he came in, but I stayed hidden and silent until he left.
“So…” The blonde’s words trail off as she awaits an answer.
“It’s a long story. She should be up here, so let’s not discuss it. She’s probably hiding in the bathroom again.” He sounds… worried? Perhaps sympathetic? I’m not sure. He doesn’t sound cold though.
Both girls are thin with tight jeans on. They look like normal, gorgeous women, but they have matching tattoos on their inner wrists—the initials DD. The font is bold and the letters are large, making it easy to see even through the mirror. As long as I don’t move, they won’t notice me in the mirror—unless they look at it, of course.
I’ve made myself as small as possible, curling into a ball almost.
“We don’t need to be dealing with human trafficking shit. Other than the fact it’s archaic and sick, the feds are watching us enough as it is. They’ve been at the salon all week. They keep coming in for haircuts they don’t need, and asking questions they think we’re stupid enough to answer truthfully. Someone is feeding them information, because they know too many of the right questions to ask. I’m not so sure some chick getting sold to the club is the greatest idea, considering the convenient circumstances,” the girl continues, baiting him.
Sledge cracks his neck to the side and glances toward the bathroom door that is closed.
“It’s not a damn human trafficking thing. It is… a unique situation, but I don’t want to explain it here. We’ll discuss this downstairs. Does Drex know about the feds snooping around?”
“Called him the first day they came in,” the redhead says.
They proceed with pulling all the clothes out of the bags, and they tuck them into the drawers, moving very slowly, proving they’re in no rush.
“If they’re scoping out the salon, they’re probably watching this place, too. But they’re apparently being more discreet than they are over at Herrin’s spot. I should call Drex,” he tells them.
Sledge turns to leave, and I hold back the waves of nausea. Why does the FBI want them? Because of the guy I had to watch be killed?
Swallowing hard, I push down the bile-encrusted memory that tries to surface. In one traumatic day, I sold my body to monsters, I was bent over a bed by a man I didn’t know, my body responded to him in the most traitorous of ways, and I had to watch a man’s head get blown off.
As much as I’d love to stay in this corner for the rest of my time here—however long that might be—the words Drex said keep running through my mind.
I can’t pout. I can’t act like this is as horrible as it is. I’m expected to play a part, or he’ll send me to Benny. The hairs on my body rise at the mere thought of something that vile. There’s no telling what he would do to me if I got sent back.
This all stinks to hell and back. I’m starting to feel like a pawn, especially since they all seem to be just as leery of this peculiar situation as I am. I thought it was a common occurrence amongst them. Apparently this is just as frigging crazy and unusual as I found it to be.
But what could Benny possibly have to gain by doing this? And why would Drex and his crew play along if it’s so out of the ordinary?
Their conversation grows louder when the redhead says, “Drex hasn’t ever had to pay for ass before. Why would he start now?”
They’re still hanging up my clothes or neatly folding them into drawers.
“He’s not paying for shit. The girl was a gift. Christ, why won’t you just come downstairs and talk about it? There’s no reason we have to discuss it up here.”
Sledge sounds irritated now, and his eyes keep flicking to the bathroom where he thinks I am. The small mirror still gives me a decent view of all three of them, though I hope they don’t glance in its direction. They might tell Drex I was hiding in the corner, and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t like that.
“Because we’re waiting to see her. I’m assuming Drex will want her working at the salon or at the massage parlor. I’d like to at least know what the girl looks like. The longer we stand out here and talk, the sooner she warms up and comes to answer some questions for herself,” the blonde says, eyeing Sledge very defiantly with a broad smile on her face.
The guy is a beast. No way in hell would I talk to him like that. Is she crazy?
“Drex doesn’t want anyone talking to her. So I doubt she’ll be working with you. And I’m sure he doesn’t want everyone up here getting to know her. If you’ll come downstairs, I’ll explain that better.”