“Are you going to give me back to Razor?”
The world spun around me. This whole night had been too much.
“Razor doesn’t give a shit about you.”
I shook my head not understanding.
“Actually, that isn’t totally true. You started stirring shit up. Now he’s asking questions. I had everything going smoothly, but you had to beat up his men.”
“If Rooster and Cueball are his men, why’re they helping you?”
“You’re asking a lot of questions.” He stepped forward. “I warned you what would happen last time.”
“I didn’t cross you. I just thought maybe—”
His gaze snapped to my face. “We talked about that. You thinking.”
He walked farther into the office, forcing me to stumble backward until I backed into the chair. His eyes flashed with something I couldn’t identify, almost like excitement. That scared me more than the anger.
“Your VIP stage is done. Would you like to see it?” His hand struck out like a snake to grab my arm, just above the glove. His dirty nails bit into my flesh.
“Let me go.”
“No. You need to see.” He pulled me toward the door. “I’ve worked so hard on it.”
The dress constricted my movements, weighing me down. I didn’t want to see the VIP stage. I didn’t want to go anywhere but away from here. I fought and screamed, but the music was too loud and I was too weak.
We moved past his office and rounded a corner. He opened a door to what used to be a closet. A small staircase now led upstairs. All of this was new and not part of the rumors I’d heard. It occurred to me as we moved up hidden stairs that this was exactly why Ford wouldn’t sign off. Hidden rooms meant nefarious activities.
Occum came to a sudden stop and pulled out a set of keys. A small key triggered a secret door to open.
“Get in.” He shoved me roughly up into the opening.
Once I was in, he followed. The door closed revealing a room that would hardly fit both of our bodies if we laid down end to end. It was floor-to-ceiling mirrors, except for one pole in the middle of the room. In the reflection, a million versions of me and Occum went on forever. It was a dizzying effect. I couldn’t take a full breath. The heavy fabric of my dress suffocated me. The look in Occum’s eyes was terrifying. He’d been on edge the last few times I saw him but now his eyes were wild. He wasn’t fully here, like part of his mind was somewhere else. I didn’t know this man.
“What is this place?” I backed away into a mirror. I saw my reflection everywhere. Pale and wide-eyed.
“This is your VIP room.” He smiled.
“This isn’t a stage…this is…are those two-way mirrors?” I touched one behind me.
“It’s brilliant. Each person has to pay for exclusivity of watching in each of the private rooms.” He pointed to each frame of glass in the octagonal room. “Each booth will cost at least a thousand, depending on the show. And that’s just to watch clothes come off. Maybe I’ll throw another girl in there with you sometimes, I haven’t decided. But then—and this is really the brilliant part—”
My stomach churned and the room around me spun. Our reflections all around us taunting, like a carnival ride. I tried to keep my face under control. I could keep it together. Just give him what he wanted. Get out of this cage. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t work in this. I only half listened to the words until he said the next part.
“Then we’ll have a bidding war. Whoever pays the most will get to take you into the champagne room.”
My head shook back and forth as he spoke. “I don’t do that…I told you.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that. At first, it was hilarious.” His face was scarily still. “Now it’s getting old. You make me the most money. But you’re a lot of trouble. And you’re getting old.”
My knees threatened to give out. “I’ll find a way to—”
“It’s too late.” In a flash, he was behind me. One arm was around my waist. The other held my chin roughly, forcing me to look at my reflection. His long beard tickled my exposed skin. “What do you see?”
“You’re hurting me. Let go. Let’s go talk.” I struggled futilely to get out of his grip, my heart racing. I dug deep for happy memories to help keep me calm and in control.
“What. Do. You. See?” He gripped my jaw so hard it might’ve dislocated.
