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His eyes darkened. “By whom?”
She patted his hand. “Old boyfriends. It’s possible I may have had fantasies… but…” Her cheeks heated. “I just never really trusted anyone enough to ever act on them.”
“You lived on your own for a long time,” he offered. “Before the Romeros take in a girl, they do their homework. There isn’t anything about your past that I don’t already know,” he explained.
“They find girls who have no one who will miss them,” she said with a nod.
“Yeah. It’s easier that way. Empty out your account, quit your job for you, clear out your apartment and turn in a moveout notice to your landlord with the rest of the rent. There’s no one chasing after you.” He dragged his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in places. He looked almost playful.
“And you’re going to keep doing this? If you manage to get me out of here, you’ll have another girl to train, to auction off to some asshole.” She couldn’t help the contempt simmering in her tone.
His jaw tightened. “Right now, you’re the only girl I’m worried about.”
She shoved his hand away. “I think I want to sleep in my own room tonight.”
“Stay put.” He grabbed hold of her arm and pulled her back onto the bed before she could get away. “I already said you’re here tonight. If you go back to your room, there will be questions.”
“This is pretty fucking pointless, Costello. You aren’t going to be able to get me out of here without them finding out. So, either I get sold like the other girls, or Frank kills me.” She tugged out of his hold but didn’t move from the bed.
“I said to watch the language,” he snapped.
She rolled her eyes.
“I’m tired.” She yanked on the covers and scooted her naked self beneath them. “Don’t you have to go do something? Prove to the other guys what a big bad Daddy you are?” she taunted him.
He stared at her for a long moment. Heat crawled over her body, but she refused to look at him. She was in a helpless situation. Even with him not turning her over, it changed nothing. She still needed to pretend to be little, and she would still be sold to the highest bidder. And when that man realized the drug didn’t work, he’d probably kill her.
There was no hope here.
Costello pulled his car up to the back entrance of an abandoned warehouse. Well, as far as the local government knew it was abandoned. It made for a secure meeting spot and storage facility for the Romeros’ stockpile.
Frank didn’t just use Lullaby in the House, he sold and distributed to clients of the House. Lullaby wasn’t a permanent change to the girls’ mental status. It wore off rapidly if they weren’t constantly fed the drug. Lullaby girls needed to take a dose twice a day at minimum to keep from coming out of their drugged haze. Girls who were fed more than two doses were even more pliable. Some regressed even younger than those Frank trained in the House.
As a business strategy, Frank had smarts. Keep them needing the drug, and you kept the Daddies on the hook as clients. No one else had anything close to Lullaby, and Frank made damn sure it stayed that way.
After parking, Costello headed to the bay area door. Sam and Nicky pushed the door open, already waiting on him.
“I’m not even late and you guys are ready to bust my balls.” Costello laughed as he shook their hands in turn and followed them inside the dark and dank warehouse.
“Been a hell of a day.” Nicky rubbed the back of his neck. “Johnny was here this morning with all his fucking charts and projections.”
Sam groaned. “If I gave a shit about projections, do you think I’d be in this line of work?”
“For a few minutes I thought he was gonna bust out a projector and put on a whole show for us.” Sam laughed.
“He does like his numbers.” Costello followed them to the back of the warehouse to the offices. Crates and boxes piled up on each side of them, forming a hallway of sorts. “Get a new shipment in?” Costello asked.
“Yeah. Just this morning. Got some new distribution lines to work out. That’s what had Johnny’s dick so hard with his charts. Gotta make sure the lines work without any fucking mess-ups before he’ll okay a larger move,” Sam explained.
“Frank has to give his okay, too, though right?” Costello asked, taking a seat at the table in the back office.
“I’m sure he does,” Nick responded with a shrug. “I don’t get involved with that shit. Ask too many questions, next thing you know there’s bullets flying through your living room window.”
Costello nodded. He knew the truth of that better than either of them in the room. His father had worked for Frank’s father. Freshman year of high school, Costello got home from a football game to find police crawling all over their front yard and house.
