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I look right at him at clench my jaw. “I was the one who was here when our meeting started. What’s your excuse?”
“We were held up by another client.”
“A shitty excuse if you ask me. I’m here with deep pockets and plan on doing a lot of business with the two of you, yet you disrespect me by being late. Why should I do business with the two of you now? Hmm?” I question, allowing my tone to grow aggravated. I want them to know I’m pissed about them not being here when they said. I want them to think they have a shot at losing me as a client and every bit of business I could pass along to them. The reality is I’m not pissed because they’re late. If it were any other day, I probably wouldn’t give a fuck, but I give a fuck because I have plans with Jada. The last thing I want to do is disappoint her.
“Because you won’t find product like what I sell anywhere in the United States. Unlike my colleagues, the ones I sell aren’t wild. Mine are trained in every aspect of what you or your customers could need from them. Trained to obey, to please, and to make sure you’re happy with them. My girls are under the impression that if they do as they’re told, their lives will be very easy. They’ve learned when they disobey . . . that is when punishment will come down on them,” Vik says, and I look over to José.
“What of your product, José? Are they as well trained as Vik’s?”
José doesn’t even take a moment to shake his head. “No, not all of them. I work here with Vik to give him a certain supply of my girls. He then takes them and puts them into his training program. At which point, those are the best of the best. I can still get you certain types of girls quickly, but they won’t be as accommodating as Vik’s. If you want to find women who will do as you ask, whenever you ask them, those are Vik’s. I figured you might want to sample a few of them, which is why I pitched bringing Vik to this meeting.”
“I see. How much are your girls?” I question Vik, who’s quick to answer me.
“Triple what you pay Otis.”
I raise my brows. “That’s steep. Don’t you think?”
He scoffs and then shakes his head. “No, I don’t. Not when it comes to perfection, and that’s what my girls are—perfect.”
“I like the ones who have fight in them,” I tell both of the men, and I notice José standing up a little taller. Right now, he’s probably thinking he’s getting all of my business.
Vik waits a few moments and then laughs. “In the beginning, I enjoyed them too, but after a while, it becomes frustrating when they disobey you. Now I enjoybreakingthem.”
“I don’t know how you could miss the fight they have in them. When they obey all of the time, don’t you find it a bit boring?” I question Vik, and his lips curl into a smile.
“Come with us. One of my facilities isn’t too far away. If you see the product yourself, you’ll understand why they’re so good,” Vik tells me, and I glance down at my watch. It’s already been fifteen minutes, and I’m going to be late. But he’s taking me to one of his facilities, which is huge.
I could bring this location down when I’m ready to strike, and I’m damn well ready to do so.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Jada
I’m going to fucking murder him.
I open and close my hands, trying to get the feeling of rage to ease from my body, but no matter what I do, I can’t calm myself down. I can’t believe Armor would leave me hanging like this. He knew how much this shit meant to me. He knew that I was going to be here waiting for him, but here I sat thirty minutes after we were supposed to leave, and I hadn’t heard a word from him or anyone else to let me know that he was going to be late or whatever.
I’m so fucking pissed.
“That’s what you get for trusting that he was going to stay to his word,” I whisper to myself, and I look back over to the clock. The time hasn’t changed from what it was before, but still, enough time has passed for me to know that I’m not going to sit around and wait for his ass any longer than I already have.
Considering all the things we’ve been through over the last few days, it seems as if Armor’s determined to prove to me that he’s just like a lot of the other guys out there. There’s no time for me to deal with the bullshit.
Pulling out my jacket from the closet, I slip it over my shoulders before going to grab my purse and walk out of the room. The unshed tears in my eyes are blurring my vision, but I don’t want to ruin my makeup, so I look up to try and get them to go away as fast as possible. He’s not worth the mascara smears.
* * *
My eyes were glued to my phone for the entire first half of the show, waiting to see if any message would come through from Armor, and just as I had anticipated, nothing ever came through. My emotions swung between pissed off and worried and then right back to pissed off again. My first instinct is to call one of the other club members, but this isn’t something they should be dealing with. There is no doubt that Armor would find a way to get in touch with me if he wanted to talk to me. Despite doing my best to enjoy the show, I’ve already hit rock bottom as far as my mood is concerned.
In fact, by the time they’ve called intermission, I’m so enraged that I have no idea what the show is about at all. I’m not paying attention.
I get outside, and just as I suck in a deep lungful of clear air, I hear the sound of a motorcycle roaring down the block.
When Armor parks and hops off his bike, I want to laugh, that is, before I have the feral need to kill this bastard.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say as he rushes over to me.
“I’m sorry, there was traffic,” he offers up as an excuse.
