Fire (Beautiful Ashes Series, Book 2)(55)
Layla nodded. “Exotic dancer sounds better, but yeah, a great way to pay for college and not interfere with a class schedule.”
“And you stopped when Christy went missing?”
“No. That’s how I got all this information.” She pointed to his notebook.
“Private parties,” he filled in the blanks.
“Yes. But I never sold my body.” Her jaw held an adamant angle.
“Your friend did?”
Tears were threatening to spill as Layla nodded.
“More money,” again filling in the rest of what she couldn’t say.
Another head bob.
He glanced over at E. “She was working in one of the underground clubs as a…”
“Submissive,” E finished, but there was anger in his eyes.
Mitch knew why. Even wasn’t okay with people playing at BDSM for the purpose of harming another. This was why Tar and him became such good friends a few years back. Also why Mitch liked the guy so much. E respected the hell out of women. “Okay, let me see if we can get one of our girls into this place.”
Layla spoke up. “I’d like to do it.”
Mitch cocked his brow. “You do realize there’s a good chance you’d have to have sex with one or more of these scumbags.”
“Yeah, I gathered that. But odds are I can provide services that wouldn’t require intercourse.”
He studied her. “You’re not properly trained.”
She slapped down a conceal carry permit and followed it with, “I’m a third degree black belt in American Kenpo.
Well damn! Why the hell wasn’t she working for the team? “Let me get you clearance.”
Leith entered and stopped short, openly gawking at Layla. Mitch mumbled, “unprofessional,” just as Layla squealed, “Oh my God. Leith Turner is that really you?!”
Mitch, E and Lacey watched the two hug tight and all shared glances of what-the-hell.
Leith spoke over Layla’s shoulder. “I’ve known her since we were kids. Our parents were best friends until they moved away.”
Shit. Mitch shook his head. This really was a small fucking world.
Dr. Thompson was building the bridge of trust with her patient. Chase was still recovering and asking to go home. She kept searching for good reasons why that wasn’t possible. Biggest one was, “Look, Chase, I know you’re having a hard time wrapping your brain around the fact you are still being held captive.”
He glanced up. “For what? Humiliation has been done.”
“Yes. And all on video feed.”
He grimaced. “And with the splicing that can be done, I’ll look like a more than willing participant.”
“Unfortunately.” She reached forward and squeezed his hand. “I am sorry.”
“Price I pay for trying to do something good,” his gaze held bitterness. He’d been stupid to think his position would save him from the ruthlessness of such men. Too much power. Too much money. He just wanted to go home and hold his beautiful wife and son. Chase looked down his body at his flaccid cock.
Carla didn’t miss where his gaze went and inquired, “Have you had an erection, yet?”
He shook his head but wouldn’t make eye contact.
Men didn’t really like to discuss such things. And though her methods were corrupted, she really did have some sense of compassion for this man. “Have you tried flipping through the magazines I brought you?”
“No,” his answer adamant.
Okay, so he had an aversion. She could work with that. “How about you and I forget we’re doctor and patient.”
His gaze shot to hers. “I can leave here?”
She stood and clasped his shoulder. “Not really. But I have an idea.” With that promise hanging in the room, she left with the knowledge that anticipation would help her more than anything else she could say.
Chase stared straight ahead. Fear seized him with every turn his thoughts took. Lisa wouldn’t want to be with a man who couldn’t perform. His son wouldn’t respect him. Where was the honor in being kidnapped and raped? God, how could he let that happen? His mind was set on repeat: worthless, dishonorable, fool, no longer a man. Fuck. There was no point in being rescued or set free, he could never go back to who he once was. “Death would be kinder,” he whispered, turning over and praying for just that.
Dr. Thompson shut off the camera hidden in Chase’s room. She’d seen this before. Granted it was female victims but still, degradation didn’t know gender. Where was this empathy coming from? She turned, catching her reflection in the mirror. Her hand tracing her face, one she did not recognize any more. Gone was her mother’s nose, her father’s chin. Tears began to ruin her makeup. What kind of monster had she become?