“When I say I want to give power to the powerless, I mean it. I’m not trying to be some feminist warrior, but I am fighting for justice. There is profit in justice, of course, but it’s not the way you might be thinking. I can’t tell you all of our secrets unless you join, but if you join, I can promise that you’ll be told everything. And you won’t want to walk away.”
I stared at her, and I suddenly could see it all. I could see the women just like me in shitty houses all over the city, getting their asses beaten just because they were a little smaller, a little weaker. I could see the girls getting abducted in other countries and hooked on drugs. I could see the girls working on the corner because they didn’t have any other way out.
I could picture them all, endless people, and not just women. There were men forced to make hard choices, forced to do things they would never want to do. I was being offered something here, something not many people got. I could help break the cycle.
“Okay,” I said to her. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“I’m sure.”
“There’s no turning back from here. Once you leave and go to the safe house, you’re a part of this.”
“I understand,” I said, feeling a resolve in my chest.
“Okay then,” she said. “Go back to your room. Gather your things. I’ll come get you soon.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Louisa.”
“You’re welcome.”
She sat down at a computer and began typing, almost as if I weren’t there anymore.
I stared at her for a second and then turned and left the room. I walked quickly back toward my own apartment, nervous energy bubbling over.
I didn’t have any things back in the room, just the clothes on my back and a future. That was more than I used to have, since a future meant possibility. Before, I was stuck getting abused every day by my pathetic, drunken father. I had no real possibility, no real future. But now anything could happen.
I felt hopeful. I felt like I was finally doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing.
I pushed open the apartment door and stopped in my tracks, all of that excitement and hope suddenly disappearing.
“You look surprised to see me,” Brooks said.
I stared at him as I slowly closed the door. He was leaning up against the far wall, his arms crossed, wearing all black. He looked as handsome as ever, and I felt my heart instantly begin to beat faster in my chest.
This was that feeling I couldn’t shake. As soon as I laid eyes on him, it appeared in my body again, shining and real. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to run away from him or toward him.
“I thought you left,” I said.
“Had something to do.”
I nodded. “For your promotion?”
“Something like that.”
I took a step into the room. “That’s good, I guess. I mean, I’m happy for you, Brooks.”
He smirked at me. “You’re talking like we’re fucking strangers or something. You already forget what it’s like to have my tongue between your legs?”
“I’m just happy for you, I guess,” I said, ignoring his comment.
“More like you’re happy for yourself. Now that I’m back, you can get another taste of my cock, feel what it’s like to come hard as you slide yourself down along me.”
“I’m not sure I have time for that,” I said.
He took a few steps toward me. “You always have time,” he grunted. “Not like I need long to get you off.”
“Is that all you wanted?” I asked, suddenly annoyed. “You disappear and then come back just trying to get in my pants?”
“No,” he said. “That’s not why I’m here. It’s just an added benefit.”
“Skip to the point then, Brooks.”
“Come on, girl,” he said, walking over to me. I tried to step away, but he caught my arm, pulling me against him. “Don’t act like you’re not wet. I can feel your heart beating.”
I took a deep breath, getting a nose full of his scent. I loved how strong he was pulling me against him, his ripped body, his intense gaze. He sucked me in with every second he kept me pressed against him.
“I don’t have time for this,” I said.
“Sure you do,” he whispered. “You always have time.”
I ran my hands down his chest and stopped. There was something wet on his black shirt.
I pulled my hand away. It was red and sticky.
It was blood.
I stepped back away from him. “Are you hurt?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not my blood.”
I frowned. “So you went out to do a job for them?”