Текст книги "Relinquish"
Автор книги: M. N. Forgy
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
ELEVEN
LANDON
“Where’s Claudia?” I question my brother Roman as I look over the charts of the girls’ earnings. Claudia hasn’t had any clients for days now. It’s unacceptable.
“I told you, she went missing a few days ago, bro. None of the girls can reach her,” he explains, sprawling out along the wing-backed chair in front of my desk, a tumbler of scotch in hand. His dark hair is messy and uncombed, his gray shirt wrinkled and untucked from his jeans. Roman never was one to be organized, and it hasn’t changed with getting older, either. Being the youngest, he gets away with it. But even at the age of twenty-five, I still have our father breathing over my shoulder at my every move.
“So, we know nothing. One of our girls up and disappears and nobody knows anything?” I scorn, tugging on my blue tie in frustration. Turning this place around is becoming a hopeless battle.
“I didn’t say that,” Roman remarks, tilting his head to the side arrogantly.
“Would you tell me what’s going on already?” I roar.
“Veronica said she thought she saw her down by that shitty little café you hang out at from time to time. So, I’m guessing if she was around that side of town, she probably went to Mick.”
Veronica is our step-sister, a bitchy twenty-year-old. I can’t stand her. She’d do anything to have a position at this estate. It’s pathetic most of the time.
“DAMN IT!” I slam my fist on the desk. Mick has been taking our girls from under our nose for over a decade now. He’s not the only sleazy pimp who targets our girls. Since I’ve been appointed head of the estate, I’ve done what I can to stop it, but it’s not enough apparently. I need to make a bold statement, something to show the wannabe pimps and our girls that things are changing.
“Someone’s slacking,” Roman sneers, making me grit my teeth. I know this game better than most. Read the girl, find her weakness and use it against her. You have to make her feel like she can’t live without you. I can reach all aspects of a damaged woman – greedy women wanting money, girls hiding out from authorities, or the ones who need the comfort from another. There’s no woman whose emotions I can’t play against her. But I can’t reach Claudia because she has a drug addiction, and that’s not something I tolerate here at the Blackwell Estate. My father may have let it slide when he was in power, but I won’t have it. A woman with an addiction is dangerous and weak.
“Or has that girl you met at the café tainted your pimp hand?” Roman laughs. I glare at him from under my lashes, annoyed with his flippant tone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve clearly had too much to drink,” I sneer, my jaw clenched.
“Right.” Roman chuckles.
“Father had me followed,” I state rather than question. I rest my elbows on my desk and steeple my hands in irritation. It’s just like my father to have me followed. He can’t seem to keep his nose in his own affairs.
“What did you expect? You were gone every day for hours. Of course he had one of our men figure out where you were going, only to find you at that café. Learning you took a girl to a hotel room was just a bonus,” Roman chuckles. I narrow my eyes at him, warning him he’s about to step over the line.
He takes a sip of his scotch, his brows furrowed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that woman has gotten under your skin, and now you’re screwing up.” He ticks his tongue against his teeth and shakes his head. I curl my lip. Charlie was different, I give her that. But saying she has me off my game is a laughable concept.
“That girl is not a problem, I assure you,” I convince Roman, sitting back in my chair.
CHARLIE
Black wings flap violently in the night’s sky. Glancing up, the moon casts a glow upon the wings as they weave back and forth. Crying. I hear disgruntled cries from what sounds like a little kid. I try to move toward the sound, but I’m cemented in place. I look down at my feet, finding them buried in muck. I shift and shove at them to move, but they won’t budge. I look up, noticing the wings have moved closer. They’re flapping faster, like they’re angry. The cries are getting louder and more frantic, and yet I still can’t fucking move. The wings suddenly wrap around me and squeeze me so tight I’m nearly suffocating. I try to scream for help, but nothing comes out. No sound, not even a whisper. The black, ominous feathers start to crush me, breaking my bones like toothpicks. My skin begins to turn black, blending with the wings as one.
“Charlie, you awake?”
I jump from my nightmare, my body covered in sweat. “I am now,” I mumble into my pillow, my heart pounding against my chest. I peel an eye open and find it’s still dark outside before closing my eye again.
“How did your first night go?” Jayden whispers. I think of Smith and the pleased face of Mick.
“It was okay,” I groan, flipping over on the bed.
“Mick said he was getting us air conditioning because of how well you delivered,” she continues, her tone soft.
“Mmm,” I mumble.
“I didn’t do as well as he hoped, so he put me in the motel tomorrow,” Jayden whispers. I pull my head up from my pillow, my vision blurry from sleep.
“Seriously?” That can’t be. Jayden has had way more experience than me. Well, at least I thought she did.
“After Margo gave me the low-down on how to spot cops, I went to work. I worked two cars, both with some fine-ass men from the college. But then there was a car that pulled up to our corner that had two men with evil looks on their faces. Their lips were curled with a sense of anger, and their teeth were stained yellow. I could smell their body odor just from standing on the outside of the car. So, I refused service. I stepped back and said ‘no thanks’. Margo snatched me by the arm and was pissed. She waltzed me back to Mick and told him I wasn’t what she thought.”
“Shit, Jayden, I’m sorry,” I whisper. “We should be able to say who we work and who we don’t. That’s bullshit,” I state, my voice heavy with sleep. “Besides, I think Margo is just pissed that Mick liked us so much. Maybe he isn’t usually so taken with girls. Maybe he’s really an asshole or something,” I suggest, trying to make sense of the whole thing.
“Yeah, well, I’ll prove them wrong tomorrow,” Jayden sniffles, turning over on her bed. I arch an eyebrow, shocked. Mick has found her weakness and is playing it against her. Jayden is a very confident girl; she can have any guy she wants, and she’ll make Mick a bunch of money. I know that, and I’m sure Mick knows it. That’s why he’s doing this to her. He’s working her mind. He’s smarter than I thought.
“Don’t believe his shit, Jayden. You’re falling right into his trap of psycho bullshit. You have to stay strong, don’t show him your insecurities,” I inform, my tone coming off stern and direct.
I see her head bob up and down in the dark, nodding in agreement.
“Okay. You’re right. I just—”
“I understand. He snakes his way in, finds what you need. He did it to me with complimenting me. We can’t fall for it. At least you’ll be close to me, being back at the motel,” I grumble, closing my eyes.
***
I stack the condoms one by one while I wait for my next trick. Jayden’s so hell-bent on proving Mick she’s worthy today, she even did some yoga stretches before we left. I wouldn’t be a friend if I didn’t warn her about the camera in room 2, so I told her. She kissed me for telling her. I should’ve been surprised that she wasn’t upset about being watched while having sex, but Jayden is a free spirit and wasn’t alarmed at all.
A small knock sounds at the door, making me hurry and throw my stack of condoms in the bowl.
A man with long blond hair and dark scruff on his cheeks walks in, wearing a distressed black shirt and ripped jeans with dirty work boots. His skin is a golden tan, and his large hands have white paint on them. No, it looks too abrasive for paint – concrete, maybe? I bet he’s a construction worker. He’s sexy as hell.
“Hey, I’m Tim,” he introduces, his tone deep and rough. He runs his hand through his hair and smirks. My mouth parts as his voice climbs up my legs like an aphrodisiac, my body heating instantly from just the look of him.
“Fancy,” I greet, standing on purple heels.
“Goddamn, you’re sexy. Where has Mick been hiding you?” He shakes his head, swiping his thumb across his chin. He’s a regular of Mick’s, I see.
“You’re pretty sexy yourself,” I purr, sliding my hand down his sweaty shirt. He’s rugged and rough around the edges, but he pulls it off.
He fists my dress roughly. The strength in his hold should scare me, but it has me swooning instead. My body ignites with the alpha pouring from him. He releases me and grabs me by the ass with his large, callused hands. I feel so small against him, and my sex instantly wets. He’s like a caveman, from the vulgar grabbing of my body, to his muscled frame, and the grunts that escape his mouth.
“What can I do for you, Tim?” I groan, rocking myself against his belt.
“Fuck. I want to bend you over and fuck you,” he growls deeply. My body races with the craving to tease him, to have that control he so desperately wants.
“Four– four hundred,” I stammer, so aroused I can’t think clearly.
He drops me, causing me to stumble on my heels, and pulls out four hundred dollars in fifties, tossing them onto the bed. I lean over, grab a condom, and hand it to him. He lifts his chin with arrogance as he undoes his belt and jeans, shoving them down to his boots. I drop my gaze from his fierce blue eyes down to his cock, finding it to be a decent size. Bigger than Smith’s, that’s for sure.
“Bend over,” Tim demands. I furrow my brows at his aggressive tone, but do what I’m told. I turn around and plant my hands on the bed. He lifts my dress to my hips and pulls my panties to my knees.
He slaps my ass hard, the burn racing up my skin. Before I can respond to his roughness, I’m impaled by him. The hard intrusion makes me whimper with pain but shiver with excitement. It’s painful, yet feels so good.
He growls and pounds into me hard, his death grip on my hips bruising my skin. My core throbs as he tears into me, and I want to tell him to ease up, but I don’t at the same time. I want the pain. I want to be punished. I’m angry with myself, angry with the cards life dealt me. Just fucking angry.
He grabs the back of my neck and shoves my face into the bed hard, the sheets nearly suffocating me with my harsh breathing. My legs ache, and my body hurts from the abuse. I can’t take much more.
My fingers begin to claw at the fabric as my lungs burn to breathe, the crappy motel sheets chafing my cheeks as I’m thrust upon them. He pulls my head up by the back of my neck and thrashes my face hard into the mattress, causing my nose to bash into a bed spring. My nose burns, and my eyes water.
Tim growls like a beast, finally reaching his climax. I don’t move, don’t look up, waiting for him to leave. My legs tremble, and my hands shake with terror. He zips his pants and slams the door on his way out, not saying a word to me as I lie here, bent over the bed. A tear cascades down my cheek. I’m so fucked-up. “Ma’am?” Terris, one of the guards, barrels through the door, his tone frantic.
“I heard crying. Are you okay?” he questions frantically.
“I’m fine!” I cry, my tone more angry than I intended. I stand up on shaky legs and grab the bed to steady myself.
“Fuck, Fancy,” Terris mutters. I look down, finding the skin around my hips already turning a shade of purple from the grip Tim had on my hips. I purse my lips and shove my dress down to cover myself when a drop of blood splashes onto it. I frown and touch my nose with my fingertips, curious where the blood is coming from. I bring my hand back, finding the culprit. The bed spring must’ve busted my nose.
“Fuck,” I whisper, staring at the blood.
“Get that fucker!” Terris yells, running off.
I stumble to the bathroom, my hands gliding against the wall, guiding me while my eyes flood with tears. My face doesn’t really hurt, not as much as my pride.
When I finally reach the bathroom, I slump against the wall and fall to my ass.
“Fancy!” Mick yells, rushing into my room.
I don’t move. I just sit here against the bathroom wall, my eyes fixed on the dirty sink in front of me. I can feel it, the grit, the dark, all of which make up rock-bottom. Here I am, sitting at rock-bottom, my mind, body, and soul destroyed. I would think I would’ve hit rock-bottom a long time ago, but here it is… all by one trick. Showing me my place in the world. I don’t have power. I have no control. I don’t have shit. I’m not safe, and nobody can save me.
“Look at me, Fancy,” Mick instructs, pushing my chin to look at him. My gaze slides from the wall to his round face, his thick eyebrows furrowed with concern as his bald head shines from the light above.
“That guy will never come near you again, and he will pay for this,” Mick threatens, his other hand sliding against my cheek. He shifts, grabs some toilet paper, and dabs at my nose.
“Don’t bother, I asked for it,” I mutter, pulling my chin from his grip.
He scowls. “Did you? Did you verbally ask for it?” Mick questions. I don’t answer, just stare at the sink.
“Answer me, Fancy!” Mick roars.
I jump slightly and level him an angry glare. “No!”
“Then you didn’t ask for it,” Mick remarks, standing. “He’ll be handled. As for you, no guy is going to pay for a chick with black eyes and a busted nose. No sex this week. Oral only, and that’s if we’re lucky,” Mick instructs, leaving me to sit on the nasty motel floor with tissue shoved up my nostrils.
***
As the week went by, so did what was left of my conscience. Every day, I woke up from a night filled with nightmares of wings and walked my sorry ass to Mick’s motel. I’m numb, my emotions gone. My thoughts are gone. I’m… gone. I can feel my heart beating, can taste the air entering my mouth. The two important things I need to live, yet I don’t feel alive.
I gave head to two men, and one a hand job. Surprisingly, they were all good-looking. But still, with every rip of the foil to a Jimmie, as Margo calls them, a little piece of my heart goes a shade darker. Although, Jayden and I have a fully stocked fridge, and air conditioning. The day after that john gave me a bloody nose, Jayden and I went home to find a new couch with a TV sitting on a box crate. Mick has kept his word; he’s taking care of us.
Jayden finally got praise from him after he watched her performance with a trick in room 2. His words were along the lines of Jayden looked like she belonged in a porno. Doesn’t surprise me, though. Smith returned for round two. He wanted sex but Mick told him no, so he offered six hundred dollars instead of the usual four. Money speaks wonders in this business, because Mick accepted his offer. Mine and Smith’s round two was an experience I won’t soon forget.
“God, you’re sexy. Better-looking than my fiancée even,” Smith groaned as I rode him.
“Yeah?” I laughed, holding myself up with my hands on his chest. I’m the other woman. Deep down, I felt a little sorry for his fiancée. But I had to admit, it gave me a rush that he thought I was sexier than the girl he planned to spend the rest of his life with.
“Oh, yeah. In fact, I can’t get you out of my head, Fancy,” he panted, cupping my cheek.
“Well, aren’t you sweet,” I flirted, sweat building up my chest. It was actually a little creepy. I lolled my head back and moaned loudly as a flicker of ecstasy built in my abdomen, my sound of bliss Smith’s undoing as he came. He stiffened and pulled my chest to his face, riding his release and depriving me of mine.
“Fuck, I love you, Fancy,” he groaned. I stilled, my eyes wide. Margo said the rule was I had to say it back.
“I—” I choked. “I love you, too,” I whispered, my voice strained. My vision blurred, like all the blood in my system fled, leaving me lifeless. I just told a stranger I loved them…
A knock at the door breaks me from memory lane. I don’t get up, though; I just sit here with my legs crossed. My skimpy purple dress climbs my thighs, revealing my fishnet stockings.
A fat guy walks in, causing me to swallow hard and my eyes to widen. He has red curly hair and overalls that fail at hiding his large gut. The warm air from outside sweeps past him into the room, and I draw back and gag. He smells like body odor. Imagine an entire football team throwing their sweaty jock straps into a pile after a football game to simmer in the summer sun. That’s exactly what this guy smells like.
“Hello, I’m Dave,” he greets, his double chin jiggling as he talks. I swallow and nod. I can’t talk, because that means more air – and therefore body odor – entering my lungs.
“What—” I choke. “What can I do for you, Dave?” I ask, trying to hold my breath.
“Do you suck cock?” he asks, a big yellow-toothed smile wide on his face.
When I said I reached rock-bottom before, I lied. This is rock-bottom.
Before I answer him, he’s undoing his overalls, letting them fall to his sneakers which are not tied but velcroed.
“One hundred and fifty,” I inform him, holding my wrist to my nose for the smell of my perfume. Margo told me that even if men stink, you have to do it. There’s no backing down from a trick. Think of roses, suffer through it.
Dave shuffles his legs to the bed and sits down, out of breath. He starts fisting his cock, and my throat retches. I can’t do this. There’s no pretending with this guy. I’m not strong enough.
“Come on, baby,” he encourages. I look at him from the corner of my eye and try to pull every ounce of willpower I have. I slowly kneel in front of him and hold my breath. I spread his legs using his knees, and then my lungs demand air. I inhale, and the rancid smell does it for me. My gag reflex hurdles puke upward. I turn, finding the door to the motel room, and quickly open it. I crawl forward and expel my dinner on the sidewalk.
“You took one of mine, so I’m taking one of yours!” I hear beside me as I heave for fresh air. I turn to look at who’s talking, but before I can get my head turned all the way, vomit races up my throat again.
“No, wait! Claudia came to me, man. Take her ass back. She’s in room 7,” Mick begs.
“I could fucking kill you, Mick. You stepped over a line! You took one of mine, so I’m taking one of yours!” roars beside me, like a song stuck on repeat. The familiar voice is threatening, and an odd knot forms in the pit of my stomach from its presence.
“Fine,” Mick mumbles. I turn my head to look at Mick and the familiar voice, but my vision is blurry with tears from throwing up.
“She’ll do,” the voice clips angrily. Before I can make out who the voice belongs to, the blurry image rushes toward me. Searing pain races through my scalp suddenly, making me scream as I’m pulled to my feet. My nails dig into the hand that’s laced into my hair from behind.
“Charlie!” Jayden screams, rushing out of a motel room.
“Jayden!” I cry, tripping over my heels as I’m yanked backwards. Jayden races toward me but Mick catches her, halting her movement. Jayden pulls from Mick, trying to get to me.
“Don’t!” Mick yells at her, picking Jayden up off the ground.
“You said you would protect us!” she screams, pounding against Mick’s chest.
“I can’t this time. It’s out of my hands, Jayden!” Mick roars, grabbing Jayden’s wrists to calm her.
Before I can react to what’s happening, see who has a hold of me, I’m thrown into a car. I sit up and look around, finding myself in a… limo? There are black leather seats all around, and little twinkle lights illuminating the space around me.
“Drive to the estate,” the familiar voice demands. I take my gaze from the driver in the front to the man who had ahold of my hair just moments ago.
My eyes widen, and my heart stammers against my chest.
“Landon?” I whisper in disbelief, butterflies swarming in my chest.
Landon’s green eyes shine, and his full lips part as he inhales. I can tell he’s just as surprised to see me as I am him. But as quickly as his startled expression came, it disappears. He straightens, fixes his tie and his eyes harden.
“Charlie,” he greets formally, his tone holding an edge to it. He squares his shoulders, his body taking up most of the seat.
“Landon, what is—” I stop myself, confused. I shift in my seat to get closer to Landon, and his head whips from looking out the window toward me. I notice his jaw clench, and his hands fist angrily.
“Jesus, I barely recognize you, Charlie,” he sneers, running a hand through his hair. I wince from his harsh tone.
“Landon,” I respond meekly, my chin trembling. All I want is to crawl in his lap and have him hold me, comfort me after the Hell I’ve been through lately. But the way he’s staring at me, I can tell that’s not going to happen.
“Don’t.” Landon shakes his head and starts muttering under his breath. “Whatever happened between us, Charlie, it never happened.” He looks up, his eyes piercing mine.
“You are an employee of the Blackwell Estate now,” he scoffs.
I close my eyes and shake my head in confusion.
“What?”
A smirk curls Landon’s lips as he fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeve. “Actually, an employee has the option to leave after their contract has expired.” He smirks and tilts his head to the side. “You are owned by the Blackwell Estate now.”
My nostrils flare to allow the harsh breathing to escape, and my heart races in my chest. Owned? He can’t be serious.
“You can’t keep me, I’ll—”
“What – run away? Call the cops?” Landon shifts in his seat and taps his fingers on his knee. “You don’t want to say that to me, Charlie. I can, and will, lock you in a room, never to escape again, and we both know nobody will come looking for you.” His tone is malicious. “And the cops will just bring you back to me, considering most of them are in my pocket anyway.” He shrugs.
I close my gaping mouth. I can’t go to the cops even if I wanted to with Jayden and I fleeing foster care the way we did. I scowl at him and turn my head toward the window. I believe him, for some reason. I believe he would lock me away in some room, never to see the light of day. The way he reeks of money and the look in his eyes hold that dark promise. It’s the darkness I knew he was capable of when I met him. It dwells in his voice and burrows in his gorgeous eyes. He’s capable of being a monster, just as he is a gentle lover.
“What is the Blackwell Estate?” I ask gravely, watching bright lights go by my window.
“You mean what is your position at the Blackwell Estate?” Landon counters.
“Sure.”
“You will be an escort,” Landon replies with a breath.
I close my eyes and let the tears fall from my eyes.
I’ll be a whore. Go figure.
