Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72937 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Blade’s cock swelled and hardened inside of me. He was close to orgasm, so I only had to hang on for a few more seconds. His hips began to move erratically, frantically as pleasure took over his body and unconsciousness threatened my own. The phone fell and he gave one last hard thrust, causing me to tear up. He let out a sickening moan right before he pulled out and jerked off all over my body.
“Roadkill was right. That cunt is magic.”
He flashed a dark grin at me and picked up the forgotten phone. A few snaps of the camera later, he said, “Your old man is gonna love this. Your brother too.” Then he pulled his fist back and punched me one final time.
Everything around me went black.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Savannah
I laid across the filthy motel bed that hadn’t been washed or changed since Blade fucked me up. I stared at the chipped and cracked ceiling in nothing but a pair of panties, praying for death to take me.
Instead of death, I was met with the chills of withdrawal, the nausea that came from too many days without getting a fix, my punishment for not being fit to fuck.
It didn’t matter that Blade was the reason because he ran the Black Jacks MC, and he did it with a ruthless iron fist that no one dared question. Roadkill hadn’t even visited my room since the beating, a punishment for him as much as me, I supposed. But my punishment was worse. Much worse.
With no drugs to take the sting off my split lip and right eye still swollen shut, I had to suffer the pain sober. The sore, possibly broken ribs on my left side meant fuck-all to Blade, who made sure to send the roughest, most brutal clients to my room for the past forty-eight hours, with not even time off to sleep. I don’t know how many men came in and out of that door. I stopped counting at thirty.
Now I just counted the cracks in the ceiling and hoped drugs, withdrawals, or some crazy dude with a fucked up need would kill me quickly.
Hell, I’d even settle for one of my ribs puncturing a lung. A long painful death was better than living another day of this miserable fucking existence.
The door flew open dramatically, and I didn’t even flinch, didn’t even respond to whoever had entered my room. I just waited for the customer to do whatever he’d come to do, hoping that maybe he’d get a little too rough and kill me.
But I heard, “Holy shit, girl.”
I vaguely recognized the voice as Tits Stepanova. She managed the Lucky Lopez Strip Club & Bar, located in the Green Zone. But that wasn’t how I knew her.
She was Dealio’s old lady, and he was one of the Black Jacks I’d gotten acquainted with when they first snatched me. She came by once in a while to fix up the girls when customers got a little too rough with us.
“Look that good, do I?” I said in a voice that was more of a painful croak.
“Worse than Dealio said.” The shock in her voice told me I looked worse than I had twenty-four hours ago when I last took a look at myself in the mirror. “What the fuck were you thinking, trying to run away?”
I guess she’d never been held prisoner for any dick to fuck or beat on 24/7. Otherwise, she’d know the answer to that question. “What would you have me do, Tits? Stick around like a good little whore? I couldn’t. I can’t.”
I didn’t want her to know this, because she’d take it back to management, but hell, if I had the energy, I might have made another run for it. Either I’d find the freedom I desired or the next beating would take my life. Which actually sounded better than freedom right now.
“No,” she sighed and pushed the door closed with a soft click. “I’m just surprised you were so bold, Blue Eyes.”
The nickname brought a smile to my face. Tits knew exactly who I was. I’d seen the flare of recognition in her eyes when she fixed me up after that first, brutal gang bang. Instead of calling me out, though, she called me Blue Eyes. “It wasn’t bold, it was survival instinct.”
“I hope that instinct is still in there because we gotta get you out of here before they kill you.” There was worry in her voice that drew my attention, and I sat up. Quickly.
Too quickly. “Ow!” The pain in my side sent me falling backward until the mattress springs poked at my back. “Why, Polina?”
She growled as her voice came closer. “Don’t ever call me that! I told you to call me Tits.” Her voice calmed and she added, “Can you sit up? Slower this time, Blue Eyes.”