Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Hey,” Blaine says, grabbing at my arm when I start to walk in the man’s direction.
I shrug him off. “I’ll be fine.”
Famous last words.
Chapter 2
Donavan
When one more drunken college kid bumps into me, I have to remind myself why I’m here. It’s the only thing keeping these assholes alive. If I were in a bar in Mexico and someone jostled me, I’d likely slit their throat and dare anyone to say a fucking thing about it.
I might as well be standing in the middle of fucking Mayberry for how prim and proper all these fucking people are. Sure, they’re drinking underage, but that’s about the extent of their rule breaking. I haven’t smelled the acrid scent of pot. I haven’t seen anyone shoving a handful of pills into their mouths before taking a long pull from their red party cups. I didn’t even see the hint of cocaine on the bathroom counter when I took a piss a few minutes ago.
They think they’re all badasses, breaking a few rules, drinking a little too much. I’m surrounded by a group of pussies, and the longer I stay in this fucking too-stuffy house, the more my fingers twitch to thin the world of a few collar-popped douchebags.
She doesn’t seem any different from any of the other girls here trying to pretend to be a woman. I don’t care how many times she lifts the flask to her lips. I don’t care how bored her eyes are with this entire scene. She’s no different from any of the others. She’s just cattle, unassuming and willing to be guided around without asking questions. She wouldn’t survive a day of what her sister had endured the last six months.
I move after she locks eyes with me. I’ve never been good at being incognito. I’m a massive motherfucker, and too old not to stand out in this type of crowd. It’s life experiences rather than my age that make me older. I’ve seen a lifetime of shit in my nearly twenty-three years, so much that there are days I feel a hundred.
She’s a paycheck, literally money in the bank, but as boredom grows, I consider it not even worth it. I still haven’t figured out why the cash even matters to me. It’s not like I spend much money. There aren’t material things that keep me working. The things I long for can’t be purchased.
She’s too young to be drinking. Hell, if I saw her on the street, I’d think she was a high school student, not college-aged, but they all started looking too young years ago. She’s no different at eighteen than I imagine she was at fifteen. I have no doubt she’s been sheltered. As a matter of fact, I know she has been.
Nash, one of the men who works for Angel, is the one who requested this favor. Unbeknownst to the girl searching the room for me, her sister was abducted, and despite having numerous opportunities over the last six months with weekly phone calls, she hasn’t once confessed that she’s been held in a sex den, forced to perform all sorts of depraved things. They allowed her to call weekly, and Ayla never opened her mouth to warn her sister that her life would soon look as horrific as Ayla’s does. The men who threatened to hurt Alani if Ayla didn’t do as they said, are the type to keep their promises. Only a few days ago, those men sent a warning—a video of Alani at college.
You see, they didn’t exactly take kindly to us raiding the house where Ayla was being held captive and forced into sexual slavery. We weren’t there for her but for Nash, one of Angel’s operatives who had also been abducted while trying to get information about the group. He fucked up, and we were forced to save him. Pulling him from that hellhole also meant pulling the women out, too.
Nash and Ayla are having trouble getting back across the border, and that’s why I’m here. The threat on Alani is real enough that I’m getting paid to watch an underage girl get drunk around a bunch of horny boys like she isn’t in danger. As real as the threat is against her from the trafficking ring, there are threats here as well.
I watched one threat hand her not one but two different flasks before walking away, only to refill one and return to her. It’s clear the boy is trying to get her drunk, and she just smiles at him and takes what he’s offering. She’s clueless and misplacing her trust where any of these assholes are concerned. Any man in her life is capable of hurting her, even if that was never his intention.
She doesn’t seem to care about the danger she’s attracting. Even my sneer when we locked eyes a few moments ago only makes her hips swing harder, the roll of her body more enticing than it should be. I’m not the only one watching her. Several guys on the perimeter of the makeshift dance floor have locked their eyes on her. I evaluate everyone as a threat. As douchey as they all look, anyone here could be someone sent by the Cortez cartel. We took out many people when we went to Mexico to get Nash, but the head of the family was gone. We’re not cocky enough to think we eradicated the problem or even scared them a little. If anything, going in and killing their men only angered them more. Taking the women, their means for income, is enough for them to seek vengeance on anyone they previously threatened. Alani is in danger and doesn’t even know it.