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“My apologies.” He nodded and smiled over at Dahlia. “I’m a collector of women.”
Ew! Dahlia tried to steel her reaction, but her lips twisted. What the hell was a collector of women? Did this guy have a whole basement of them locked up? She peeked over at Rogue, who was watching her.
“He’s a pimp.”
What?
The man narrowed his eyes, clearly offended by the reference. “I don’t use crass terminology.”
“I do, motherfucker.” Rogue took a drag from his cigar, dominating the conversation. It was clear this man had power, but not nearly as much as Rogue.
“Now.” Rogue rested his elbows on the table, rocking it slightly. “Why the fuck are you here?”
The man cleared his throat and slyly glanced over at Dahlia. It was obvious whatever he wanted to discuss was a private matter. Dahlia took the cue and started to stand but didn’t get very far. She heard the ferocious growl before Rogue snapped.
“Sit the fuck down. Jesus Christ! How many times I gotta say it?”
“I just thought maybe this was a private matter.”
Rogue furrowed his brows, pointing to the man. “He sells pussy, cock, and ass, ain’t nothing private about that.”
Dahlia hiked up her brows, and Rogue confirmed her unspoken question.
“Prostitutes.”
“Escorts,” the man corrected.
This had to be the most bizarre conversation she’d ever been a part of. She wasn’t sure why she asked other than pure curiosity. She’d been around a lot of illegal activities, though never directly connected to any. This was a bit fascinating.
“Male escorts too?”
The man slowly turned, the corner of his mouth curling. “A large variety of men.”
Interesting.
“Enough!” Rogue slammed his hand on the table and gestured for the man to speak.
“I’m looking to add another location.” He folded his hands. “As you know, the profits have risen, and we’re looking to branch out.”
“Where?” Rogue asked.
“Right outside of Lawry.”
“Can’t fucking do it in Grove Mill.”
Thank God. Dahlia had a lot of friends who resided in the small town, including Sloane. It kind of made her wonder if Sloane had been the reason Rogue wouldn’t allow it.
“No, a little farther out and up north. Springville.”
Dahlia had lived in the area most of her life and the state for all of it. She knew Springville. There wasn’t much up in that area except woods and some farmland. It was in a depressed part of the state. The only bright spot was the creek in Killcreek. However, the charm had been long gone years ago, and it was now a very desolate area.
Dahlia glanced over at Rogue, whose demeanor completely shifted. She couldn’t say for sure, but she saw a small semblance of a smile.
“That’s about twenty-five miles out from Killcreek.” Rogue eased into his chair.
“Yes. And I know—”
“It’s my fucking territory.” Rogue smirked. “Ten percent cut and it’s yours.”
