“How do we get out?” I ask. “I assume the doors are locked from inside?”
Pam laughs. “I was just getting to that part.” She reaches into her pocket and holds a card out for Blaze. “Here’s your card. Please be aware that it’s registered in your name. If any of the merchandise gets lost, damaged, or stolen, we’ll know who was responsible.”
Merchandise.
I know I’m not a good person. I’ve done a lot of things I should probably regret.
But I’d never refer to a woman as merchandise so casually. I’d neverthinkabout women as merchandise.
Except if we’re going to get through this, I’m going to have to, aren’t I?
Blaze takes the card with a roll of his eyes. “Yeah, thanks. Although I think they’re all technically mine already? Who cares if I hurt one of these bitches?”
I hear Pandora gasp in my ear. “Bitches?That’s misogyny, Blaze.”
I’m both glad for her flippant comments and wishing she’d stop because they’re distracting.
“Pandora,” River says, and I have the sense that he’s ready to pull the microphone away from her if his exasperation is any indication, “cut the commentary.”
“Well, there might still be some use to be had out of them,” Pam answers. “Anyway. Take a look at Elizabeth in there, and if you don’t like her, we’ll find another one.”
I hear a soft sob from inside the room.
“Thanks.” Blaze motions for me to follow him inside. I let the door close on us, still half expecting us to be locked in as our plan goes up in smoke.
Blaze walks through the small hall of the converted hotel room and into the large area that holds the bed. The bed is too big for the small space, but I guess they aren’t expecting people to be doing much outside of it.
There’s no TV, no dressers, no desks, no chairs.
The blond sitting on the bed is skinny—ridiculously skinny, without a single ounce of fat on her. Her hair is styled in pretty waves. She’s wearing a pink see-through negligee that hides nothing.
She smiles when we approach, but I can immediately tell she’s putting on a show.
“Two of you?” she asks with a wavering voice. “I think you have to pay extra for that.”
Blaze gives her a full once-over. “Yeah, okay. Not you. No offense. I was looking for somebody a bit more…” He glances toward me.
Am I supposed to know how to finish that sentence?
How would a potential “client” view her? Emaciated, not enthusiastic enough, obviously trying to dodge having to service two men at a time?
Something occurs to me, and my eyes go to her inner arms. I wonder if I’d see bruising there up close, if they’re keeping her too drugged to put on any weight or if she’s naturally thin.
This gets worse and worse.
“She’s not good enough for you, if I can say so, sir,” I say after a pause, not wanting to give myself away in front of anyone.
“It’s not you, it’s me,” Blaze says to her. After a beat, he lets out a dark chuckle. “Or maybe it is you. I’m notthatpicky.”
He walks back and swipes his key at the door, just like Pam had done from the other side.
To my relief, the light flashes green, and the lock clicks.
Elizabeth doesn’t move from the bed at all, even though this would be the perfect opportunity for her to try to escape.
Pam is waiting for us on the other side. “Not to your liking?” she asks.
Blaze shakes his head. “No. She already looks soold. Do you have a fresher one?”
