Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
“Will Albert be here tonight?” I ask again. I purposely keep my voice pitched lower than normal. I want him thinking I’m subservient. My only hope of getting out of here might be the element of surprise. Letting the men around me think I’m weak might serve me.
The guard chuckles as if I’ve told a joke. “That fucker is already back at the casinos.”
Of course he is. I should have known. There was a moment when I thought I saw regret in Albert’s eyes. But that flicker died out as soon as his debt was cleared, and he was free to start gambling again.
His phone vibrates, and he pauses to glance at it. “Time to go.”
We leave the hotel room with him clutching my upper arm tightly. I don’t think he’s afraid I’m going to bolt. I think he just wants to touch me. My skin burns from his fingertips and I wish I were with Colt. I wish I were in the bathtub, cuddling with him.
When we arrive at the elevators, Curtis is waiting for us. He frowns at the enforcer who is manhandling me, and the guy instantly stops touching me. I doubt you’re supposed to hurt the merchandise and that’s exactly what I am today. Merchandise, just a product to be sold.
Curtis clucks and produces a light black shawl. He wraps it around me, careful to cover the red handprint that will fade in a few moments. After all, we can’t have it looking like I’m here against my will.
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. An elderly couple steps off, a man hobbling with a cane and a blue-eyed woman beside him with a sparkling gaze. They look kind, like the sort of people you’d want as your grandparents. Grandma would teach you how to bake cookies then grandpa would take you out to the woodshop and show you his latest creation.
I wet my lips and it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell them. To beg for help. Surely, they wouldn’t go on their way if I cried out that I was in danger. That I was here against my will. But my throat is dry, and the words are stuck.
It doesn’t matter anyway.
Curtis seems to sense the direction of my thoughts and shakes his head. It’s slight but he leans forward, letting me see the weapon in his suitcoat. To anyone else, he’s standing casually as he waits for the elderly couple to move along.
I recognize the threat. He won’t hesitate to kill these people any more than he’ll hesitate to put me down. I’m a business asset, one that he hopes to gain money from. But if I prove to be a liability, I’ll be dealt with accordingly.
With cold, wooden limbs I step into the now empty elevator. It smells like a mix of too much cologne and the cloying perfume that women in their sixties like to wear. I wonder if they realize what just happened. They passed someone in danger, a young woman who’s about to slip through the cracks.
It makes me curious about the victims I’ve passed on the street. The little boy with the black eye—did he really get that playing soccer like his dad said? The woman with the head gash—did she really get into a car accident yesterday? Are they telling the truth? Are they covering for monsters? How would I know? How would you know?
After an elevator ride that seems too long and not long enough at the same time, the doors slide open. Curtis walks a step before me while the enforcer follows me. Both of them are careful to keep a respectful distance as we cross the lobby. I note that, guessing that either the buyer is a possessive man or Curtis wants to make a show of the fact that I’m untouched. That’s not exactly true now, but it’s the story that Albert sold him.
I’m glad that whatever horrible things happen to me, at least this monster won’t be my first. I’ll always have those memories with Colt, of the way he looked at me tenderly as he slipped inside my aching body. The way he buried his head in my shoulder and called my name softly, like a devout prayer he couldn’t stop repeating.
At the entrance to the hotel restaurant, Curtis turns to me.
“Smile,” he demands. “But not too big. Only speak if you’re spoken to. Mr. Von Hagel likes his women silent.”
That sounds about right. Who wants a doll that has a mind of her own, that freely shares her opinions?
I do as he says, careful not to talk back. All I have to do is think about the gun in his jacket and the one in the enforcer’s. They could both put a bullet in me before I even have time to finish smarting off. What good will it do to me to end up dead?