Pop laughs long and hard, acting as though I’m his entertainment for the evening. “Boy, you’d kill every rival club if you could. That’s why I let you keep the girl. You’ve earned it, and hell, you could use the distraction. We can’t go starting wars. Everyone you kill has someone who wants revenge. We kill when there isn’t another option.”
I cock an eyebrow.
“I thought I was keeping the girl because we agreed it was safer.”
I don’t like his condescending smirk. “No, that’s just what you’re telling yourself. You want her. That’s fine by me. I’ve got plenty to keep me busy. Besides, Esmeralda is getting jealous these days. She’s under the delusion she can make me settle down. A girl as innocent as you’ve described would have her eyes clawed out within minutes around here. Best she stay and keep your bed full.”
I frown as I sit back down. “She’s on my couch until I find her a room. I sleep alone.”
“My apologies,” he says with that same thick condescension. “She can keep your couch warm. Just so you know, it’s easier to fuck them in the bed. Couches are for teenagers.”
Rolling my eyes, I stand and head to the window. Two unmarked cars are parked just below. Feds are watching us now, but this isn’t news.
Turning around, I nudge a cooler with my foot while asking, “What’re you going to do with the drugs if they come in?”
Pop waves me off like it’s no big deal.
“It’s just a cooler full. I’ll flush the shit if it comes to that. No worries. If they had a search warrant, they’d have already charged in like the cavalier asses they are.” The knife scratches the surface of the plate as he readies a new bite of steak. “I want you to keep me posted on the girl. If she’s innocent, try not to torture her too much, just in case we have to use her later on. We’ll want her compliant and not overly resentful.”
I smirk as I head toward the door. “No worries, Pop.”
Torture isn’t what I have in mind.
Chapter 9
EVE
Two girls with long, silky hair walk in, carrying bags of what appears to be clothing. One girl has auburn hair that can’t be natural. The other is a platinum blonde with perfectly manicured red nails.
They don’t look the way I expected. I guess I expected fake bimbos with boobs spilling out of their tops and gum hanging out of their mouths. They look chic and understated sexy. I’d even say they look classy.
The wall dips and has a hidden cove. This is the safest place in the room to stay hidden. They haven’t seen me, but I can see them through the reflection of the mirror on the adjacent wall.
“So Drex, like, bought the girl or something?” the redhead asks. “Didn’t realize the sex slave ring was back in style.”
“He didn’t buy the girl,” a gruff voice says, matching the man who brought my stuff up earlier while I hid in the bathroom.
He announced himself as Sledge when he came in, but I stayed hidden and silent until he left.
“So…” The blonde’s words trail off as she awaits an answer.
“It’s a long story. She should be up here, so let’s not discuss it. She’s probably hiding in the bathroom again.” He sounds… worried? Perhaps sympathetic? I’m not sure. He doesn’t sound cold though.
Both girls are thin with tight jeans on. They look like normal, gorgeous women, but they have matching tattoos on their inner wrists—the initials DD. The font is bold and the letters are large, making it easy to see even through the mirror. As long as I don’t move, they won’t notice me in the mirror—unless they look at it, of course.
I’ve made myself as small as possible, curling into a ball almost.
“We don’t need to be dealing with human trafficking shit. Other than the fact it’s archaic and sick, the feds are watching us enough as it is. They’ve been at the salon all week. They keep coming in for haircuts they don’t need, and asking questions they think we’re stupid enough to answer truthfully. Someone is feeding them information, because they know too many of the right questions to ask. I’m not so sure some chick getting sold to the club is the greatest idea, considering the convenient circumstances,” the girl continues, baiting him.
Sledge cracks his neck to the side and glances toward the bathroom door that is closed.
“It’s not a damn human trafficking thing. It is… a unique situation, but I don’t want to explain it here. We’ll discuss this downstairs. Does Drex know about the feds snooping around?”
“Called him the first day they came in,” the redhead says.