Stay(10)

“There she is,” a middle aged man said and stood from the couch. He was wearing khaki pants and a blue polo shirt that matched his eyes. His smile was warm, and his dark blonde hair was painstakingly styled around his handsome face. Jackson turned his head down, staring at the floor, and stepped to the side. He crossed his arms and pulled them close to his tense body.

The man, who I assumed was Nate, moved close to me. His eyes darted up and down my body several times before they settled on my face. He put his hand on my chin and tipped my head to the left. I immediately flinched. Zane took a quick step forward, holding out his arms as if anticipating a fight.

“Shhh,” Nate soothed. The tears I had been holding back rolled down my cheeks. He used his thumb to wipe them away. I recoiled at his touch. “You shouldn’t have hit her,” Nate scolded Zane. “This is going to take time to heal. And time costs me.” Nate’s hand slowly trailed down from my face to my neck, sweeping across my collarbone and then down towards my breasts.

I didn’t even think about it; my arm came up, and my fist made contact with Nate’s face. Heart hammering, I spun and took two steps before Zane grabbed my arms. He yanked them down and pulled me back, knocking me off my feet. I crumpled to the floor but continued to fight, struggling to free my arms. I threw my head back and hit him below the waist. He let out a grunt of pain. I twisted and pulled my right arm out of his hold.

Planting the soles of my shoes on the ground, I sprang up and hit Zane as hard as I could in the stomach. He responded by yanking my left arm back, and I screamed as I was pulled to the floor. He brought his foot up and kicked me in the side.

“Get her up,” Nate sternly ordered.

Zane kicked me once more in the back, his blow smacking into my kidney before he knelt down and hoisted me to my feet. I was crying and I hated it. I took a deep, sniffling breath and glared at Nate.#p#分页标题#e#

“You’re not going to get away with this!” I threatened. “My family knows I’m missing. They will come looking for me!”

Zane pulled my arms back, looping his arms around my elbows. I wiggled my shoulders but was unable to break free. Nate moved forward again and grabbed the front of my shirt with both hands. In one swift movement, he ripped it open. Several buttons popped off and bounced on the dark, wooden floor. Then he pulled down my tank top and slid his hands over my breasts.

“Don’t touch me!” I yelled and kicked at Nate.

Zane jerked me back. He slid his leg through mine and hooked it around my ankle, putting me off balance.

“She’s old,” Nate noted, looking past me to Zane.

“Nineteen, according to her license. But the older ones do better on the street,” Zane pointed out.

“Yes,” Nate agreed and moved his hands down to my stomach. “But someone could recognize her. The girl is right. People will be looking.”

“She could do well in the club,” Zane blurted, desperate to please Nate. “She’s tall and thin. She’d fit right in.”

“And pretty. Very pretty.” Nate’s words slid out of him like oil. His hands moved to my thighs. “And possibly an athlete. She would look good on stage.” He squeezed my muscles and then let me go. “But you do not seem to grasp the concept of being recognized. I’m not risking my business.”

My heart raced and my stomach churned. Club? Streets? What the fuck were these guys into? I knew deep down, but I didn’t want to admit it.

“I told him there were other options,” Jackson spoke for the first time since the basement. “But he didn’t listen.”

“Nobody asked you, Jackson,” Zane spat.

“He’s right,” Nate said. Zane’s grip on me tightened in unspoken anger.

“It’s your fault,” Zane snarled at Jackson. “You can’t even handle looking after one measly girl. She fucking ran away! You’re a worthless piece of shit!”

“Enough,” Nate calmly spoke. “She’s here. We have to deal with it, one way or another.”

Sweat dripped down my back as I witnessed the exchange. I was drowning, slowly sinking below dark, icy water. Only I was stuck in my body and in this room. Stuck with three men who inspected me like a horse at an auction and thought of me as nothing more than a body to profit from.

“What else do you know?” Nate asked Zane, sounding bored with me already.

“Her name is Adeline Miller. Parents own an art gallery where her mom teaches painting classes. She’s in school to be a nurse, has a younger sister named Arianna, two dogs that she trains and shows, and runs some blog called Contagious Reads. It's about books.”