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Villains fight for themselves.
“Look, I know who you are,” I say, still facing Maverick, since he’s less scary. “Everyone in town knows you sell more than ink. I could be good at it. Let me be another pair of feet on the ground for you.”
“You?” Maverick asks, snorting with suppressed laughter. “You want to be a plug?”
I raise my chin. “What about it? I know who sells at Willow Heights, and I know I could be real competition. No one would suspect me.”
He sits back on the couch, laying his arm along the top. “Yeah, except we don’t sell to Willow Heights,” he says. “Where our guys go, a pretty girl like you would need a bodyguard. And why would I hire some muscle to look after you when I could just have him do the dirty work and leave you at home, safe and sound, where you belong?”
I squeeze my hands into fists and bite down on my tongue, letting my teeth cut into the soft flesh until I taste blood, until the pain forces me out of my body, the way it always does. I like the place I go, how I float above, and I know I’m not in pain, that just my body is.
“Then give me a job doing something only a pretty girl like me can do,” I say, holding his gaze. “I’m sure I could make more for you than you’d get for a piercing.”
It’s my way of telling him he owes me. It’s the last thing I have to offer, something I’d rather sell than June Bug. After all, I’ve sold it for less already, the last time I came in here. I’ve had it taken over and over again, and I’ve gotten nothing in return. At least this way, it would be my choice—a choice I’ve almost never gotten to make. I allowed the Dolces to use my beauty as a weapon because I knew if they didn’t use it against someone else, they’d turn it against me. And they did.
Why shouldn’t I get to use it the same way they do?
“The Crossbones don’t have any part in the skin trade,” Mr. North says, his tone cool, his eyes regarding me with thinly veiled disapproval.
Maverick sighs. “If that’s really what you’re looking to do, Diablo’s Disciples would sell your fine ass in a heartbeat.”
“Great,” I say, crossing my arms and glaring at him, refusing to be intimidated. “Do you know where I can find them?”
The two men exchange glances, some secret conversation I’m not privy to. Then they start speaking in Spanish, theirrapid-fire exchange way too fast and complicated for my few years of high school Spanish classes to keep up with.
After a few minutes, Maverick returns his attention to me. “Look, you’re hot, I’ve done your ink, and I know you wouldn’t be here if you had other options. If you’re willing to take your clothes off and you can keep your mouth shut, we might have something for you.”
I nod eagerly, so relieved I don’t care what they’re planning for me. “I can.”
“Take her over and get her ready,” Mr. North says, picking up his pen and making a dismissive gesture. “I need to finish this first, and then I’ll be in to see what she can do. She’ll need to impress your uncle too.”
“Oh,” I say, nervously wiping my palms on my jeans. “I didn’t expect—but I’m ready, if you want to do it now. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m really grateful. Thank you so much. You won’t regret it.”
I swallow hard and look him over, trying to look sexy and not like I’m about to faint. God, he’s massive. If I hadn’t had a guy even bigger than him rearranging my guts for two years, I’d be running for the hills. But luckily, the Dolces taught me how to take a big dick, and how to be shared too. Guess this is the moment I was preparing for all along, even if I didn’t know it.
I take a breath and put up my battered defenses, then paste on the smile that helped me survive every defilement, every demeaning act of sexual depravity and violence. I know how to empty myself of everything inside, how to be only a pretty face, a hollow doll to be used and filled by men. I know how to read them, the things they want to hear to make them feel the way they want to feel.
“Are you both going at once?” I ask, batting my lashes at Mr. North and laying a hand on his knee. “Because I’m okay with that. If you’re trying to test me and see if that scares me away, itwon’t. And don’t worry, I don’t have anything against older men, even if I’ve never—”
“I’m married,” he snaps, jerking his knee out of my reach and giving me a glare that’s so withering I suddenly have no doubt that the only way he’d ever touch me is to toss my dead body into the river if I crossed him.
“Won’t most of the men be?” I ask, swallowing my nerves and the bile that rises with them.
“I’m not most men,” he growls.
Maverick chuckles and throws an arm around me, steering me away from his glowering father. “Come on, butterfly,” he says, leading me to the back of the shop and pushing open the side door where we exited last time. “And stop hitting on my dad. It’s fucking weird, considering we’ve fucked. Haven’t we?”
“Yes, Maverick,” I say, rolling my eyes. I think about all the times Mr. Dolce tried to coerce me into a blowjob. “And it’s not that weird.”
“He only fucks my mom,” Maverick says, leading me out into the cold evening. “Him nailing you after I did would be like me banging my mother. So yeah, it’s fucking weird.”
“Well, what was I supposed to think?” I demand. “He was telling you to prep me and shit.”
“And he told you, we don’t traffic in humans,” he says, his arm still around me as we make our way down the block. A slammed 2001 Silverado cruises by slowly, the bass thumping, the two men inside eyeing us as they go, and I remember what he said last time about the Disciples snatching me up. I huddle into his side, feeling safe in a way I rarely do around men. Ironic, since he’s in a fucking gang.
“My uncle runs an exclusive club,” he says. “He’s protective of his girls and very strict about what goes on there. You’ll be safe while on the premises, and like I said, no skintrade. If you want to make deals and meet afterwards, that’s your personal business, but it’s not to be associated with Vices in any way. And you’ll need to sign NDAs and contracts stating as much. Because it’s very discreet and private, a lot of the clientele is elite—senators and governors and shit. You’ll make good money.”
“Doing what?”
