AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dornan stopped dead in his tracks and dropped her arm like it was covered in shit.
‘If you’re referring to the time I woke up on your couch to see you’d climbed your dirty snatch up onto my dick, please tell him. I’m sure he’d love that.’
Anger and frustration rolled off her in waves, mixed in with the faintly sweet odour that seemed unique to junkies coming down. That anxious, desperate sweat smell. Like fruit before it turns and starts to rot. The edge. She was on the edge.
‘I’ll tell him you forced me,’ she threatened.
That tipped him over the edge. He grabbed a chunk of her greasy auburn hair and tugged, pulling her face to his.
‘Just fuckin’ try it,’ he hissed through gritted teeth. ‘I dare you.’
The fight went out of her, and she became limp in his grip. Junkies were all the same. He’d had to deal with enough of them in his line of work. He pushed her out of the doorway and slammed the door shut before he started laying punches into that stupid face of hers.
Fucking bitch.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
MARIANA
Three days passed. Three days of pacing the room, of scratching the wounds on my wrists that were only just now beginning to heal. Three days of three meals a day, delivered by Murphy himself. Three days of pure and utter hell.
Three days, and no sign of Dornan.
I should have known he wouldn’t help me.
And then, in an instant, everything began happening too quickly. Murphy handed me a towel and pointed to the door.
‘Go shower,’ he ordered. ‘Wash your fucking hair. It looks like greasy old spaghetti.’
I glared at him, but I also really wanted a shower. I hadn’t bathed in days, and I was completely and utterly worn out.
Freshly showered, I edged back into the room wearing a towel and new underwear. I sidled past Murphy, dreading what he might decide to do with me now that I was clean and half-naked in front of him.
But what he did surprised me. He handed me a folded black piece of clothing, and as I shook it open with one hand, my knees gave way.
It was a dress. Innocent enough, a simple silk number with no sleeves that would reach to the floor on my frame.
But it wasn’t the dress that worried me. It was the why.
‘No,’ I said, dropping the dress at my damp feet and scurrying back. ‘No, no, no.’
I jumped as a woman appeared at the door. She looked a few years older than me, but immaculate, like a porcelain doll. Huge blue eyes were the main feature of her pale face, her thin lips fashioned into a scowl. Her glossy brown hair was slicked back into a bun and she wore a black shift dress that looked expensive. She was like a beanpole, so thin her cheekbones jutted out, her elbows and knees angular. Maybe she was a prisoner, too.
When she spoke, however, I realised she was definitely not a prisoner. ‘She’s chubby,’ the woman snapped, her ice-blue eyes raking up and down me. I still had my towel on, but I felt exposed under her withering glare. I backed away towards the bed. Her accent was hard to pin down, but I was guessing New York. And she was definitely Italian. Oh, Jesus, was this Dornan’s wife? Was this the one he had been talking about? If so, I completely understood the ‘My wife is a cunt’ comment. I couldn’t think of a better word to sum this woman up.
‘I’m practically obese compared to you,’ I agreed, just as snappily. ‘Who are you?’
‘Shhh, Bella,’ Murphy said with a small smile. ‘You’re just jealous of her rack.’
Bella. Definitely Italian. But it was the wrong name for her. She was pretty, regal, but she was certainly not beautiful.
She huffed, feigning disinterest as she addressed Murphy. ‘I don’t have all day,’ she said, holding up a small red bag in her palm. A make-up bag. ‘And I’m going to need a while with this one.’
They were either getting me ready to sell, or getting ready to induct me into the whorehouse hall of fame. Neither sounded appealing. I clenched my jaw, moving as far as I could into the corner of the room. Dornan, where the hell are you? I doubted he would be able to do anything to stop Emilio from selling me, but for some reason I still wanted him to be there. Clearly, I had issues.
Murphy surveyed me from the doorway, then slammed the door shut.
‘Put the dress on,’ he said.
