Page 122 of A Million To Fall

I don’t want to do this again.

“I have six-hundred on me tonight. That good?” Rachel asks. I hear her rustling around though I still don’t open my eyes.

“That’s very generous, Rach. Boss can have four hundred of that.”

My eyes fly open, my brows drawing together.

Is she… pimping me out?

Taking money for her friend to fuck me?

And keeping a cut?

That’s the definition of pimping someone out, right?

“You know who’d like him? Stella,” Rachel says casually.

No fucking way.

“I’m not fucking another one of your friends,” I mutter, my voice cutting through the haze.

The silence that follows is loud.

Mrs. Davis steps toward me, a saccharine smile tugging at her mouth. She threads her fingers through my hair gently. “It’s okay, baby. You’re just tired. You should go to bed,” she murmurs, like that’s something she gets to decide.

I stand. Pull on my sweats. Then I snatch my shirt off the floor, though I don’t bother putting it on.

“Here you go, Boss,” Rachel says and presses a wad of folded bills into my palm. Her voice is warm, almost grateful. “You’re… thank you,” she adds, letting her eyes rake slowly over my chest.

I stare at the money in my hand. I don’t count it.

“I’ll leave your pay on the bathroom counter,” Mrs. Davis says softly.

I just nod.

And walk away.

I’m nothing more than a fucking transaction.

thirty-seven

Skye

I’m awoken by the glow of Archer’s phone and blink against the harsh light. Archer’s sitting up in bed beside me, his back against the headboard, scrolling.

“Can’t sleep?” I mumble, rolling onto my side.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were texting with Boston?” he asks, eyes still locked on the phone.

My brain stalls, still slow with sleep. “What?”

Archer lets out a humorless laugh. “Sorry things have been weird. Hope you’re okay.”

I know that message.

My eyes drop to the phone, to the case that—even in the low light of the room—I can tell is light blue, not black.

The realization hits like a shockwave.