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It was fascinating, seeing the way the older man’s scowl faded, replaced with something very akin to fear. She knew the Shadow Man was a rumor in the underworld, but to witness just the impact the sound of his name could have on someone powerful like Mr. H made something warm twist in her belly.
For the first time in her life, she understood what the barest glimpse of power felt like. And she wondered if it gave him a rush, to be there and witness it in person, to see how people reacted to his name, oblivious to the fact that he was right there.
Maybe that was why he had come. To find some twisted satisfaction in their terror.
Mr. H leaned forward. “How the fuck do you know that?”
What could she say to that? Thinking quickly on her feet, she answered with as much earnestness as she could muster. “There was a call on the phone after the buyer was shot. The man on the other side introduced himself as the Shadow Man.”
Mr. H frowned. “That’s very strange. Not a part of his M.O.”
She didn't comment on that.
As he contemplated in silence, she felt a gloved hand touch hers, the man at her side slipping something into her hand. Paper, from the feel of it. Fisting her hand, she surreptitiously stuffed it in her jeans pocket to look at later, confused as to what was going on.
Mr. H stared at her in a discomforting way for a long time before steeping his fingers, resting his elbows on the desk. “You present quite the conundrum, girl. You get some of our highest bids and lose us some of our best clients.”
Lyla stayed silent, not sure if and how to address this. She focused on the man speaking, aware of the man silent at her side, and felt an odd feeling of safety envelop her. Odd, because it wasn’t an emotion she was familiar with. She might not know anything about him, but she knew he wouldn’t let her be killed for his own reasons. His presence there ensured she stay alive.
A sudden slight gleam entered Mr. H’s dark eyes. “Alright, that’s all. You can go now.”
Lyla didn’t know what the change meant, but she doubted it was anything good. Taking that as dismissal, she stood up and walked out of the office, the guard waiting to escort her back to her room.
Thankfully, the room was empty, both Reina and Millie somewhere away. Sitting on her unmade bed, she took the crumpled piece of paper out from her pocket, looking at the note he had passed her, a masculine string scrawl of a sentence that made her breath catch.
'Your voice makes my atoms sing.’
She didn’t understand the rush she felt at those words. It was... beautiful. Almost poetic, and she wouldn’t have called him poetic in her wildest dreams. But was he just saying it to soften her or did he mean it? She didn't know but she knew she shouldn’t feel that rush, especially not when it was coming from him. But sitting alone in her room, she couldn’t deny it affected her. He affected her, no matter how much she tried to resist. Over the years, she had gone from hopefully opening herself up to his impact on her, to accepting it, to denying it, to resisting it, to hating it, and repeat. A cycle rooted in the fact that she wanted him completely but didn't know if he returned the feeling beyond keeping her safe.
And she was exasperated—with him and herself and their twisted relationship.
But he'd never given her a note before. What was he up to?
Getting up, she went to her locker and took out the box from the back. Opening it to all the black eternal roses she'd saved over the years, some dried and wilted, some comparatively fresher, she placed the note inside with them, hating herself slightly more for keeping them all. Tucking the box at the back again, she locked up and went to freshen up, knowing she had a few hours before starting her shift.
After using the communal showers, she dressed in shorts and a tank top, tied her hair up in a bun, and went down to the kitchen to eat something. There weren’t many options to choose from, but they did feed everyone, and frankly, that was more than enough on most days. The kitchen was busy with girls taking their meals, some of them talking to each other, most of them keeping to themselves like she did. It was common. Something was broken within every single one of them, and while that was a point of commonality, it wasn’t a point of companionship.
Keeping her head down, she got some milk and cereal in a cheap plastic bowl, and went back upstairs to the solace of her room before she had to start work in a few hours. When she wasn’t being auctioned for short- or long-term contracts, she worked as a server in the Club District, rotating in The Syndicate nightclubs, strip clubs, and sex clubs, sometimes even as a dancer if they needed more girls on stage. She got groped and whistled at and couldn't keep any of the tips she made, but it was still better than a lot of the other girls had it. There were girls who got drugged and got fucked on a daily basis for videos sold on the dark web; sex slaves who lived with masters so cruel their lives were horror stories, children who were made to do things no child ever should. And it wasn’t just girls. She knew there was a whole operation like this one for young boys too. If there was a buyer in the market, they were catered to with whatever they needed. So, she truly felt lucky that her daily job was only limited to unwanted attention and groping.
And yet, despite telling herself that she was luckier, she felt cursed.
Her eyes went to the knife and an apple on Reina’s small desk, her mind swaying again. That was the thing she couldn’t explain within herself. Sometimes, she caught sight of random, potentially lethal objects and immediately, her brain conjured up the image of what it would be like to use it on herself. That knife, for example, would be so easy, the sharp side of the blade going over the veins just once, so simple to put a full stop to it all. They would find her in the room, her white expensive shirt soaked in blood that matched her hair, a smile on her face for the first time as she said goodbye.
Closing her eyes, she put a stop to the fantasy, a slight tremor in her hand as she gripped her bowl.
Eat. Sleep. That’s all.
That’s all she needed to do. Sleep. Wake up. Repeat.
Just one more day.
Quickly finishing the last of her cereal, she climbed back into bed and slept again, quieting the demons in her head, at least for a bit, praying for a dream that would bring her some solace. And just her luck, she dreamed of him.
