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Nodding as much as she can with my hand around her throat, she waves to another whore hovering outside the motel office door.
“Get Erin,” she rasps, hardly able to speak past the squeeze of my fingers.
The woman nods, running across the parking lot to the other side, and I watch as she runs up two flights of stairs and enters a room on the second floor.
“Is there anything else I need to know?” I ask, talking to both women, and while Loretta shakes her head, Gertie whimpers. I swing my gaze to her and raise a brow, and this time, I don’t need to threaten her with my gun. This time she’s forthcoming.
“A-Adam made a booking again for a room. Next month. The first Saturday in September.” She shrugs. “He’s done that before and not shown up since it’s his daddy’s money he’s paying with, but he’s booked room sixty-nine.”
I lift a single brow. “Really? Sixty-nine?”
She nods. “He thinks it’s funny.”
“Fucking immature cockhead,” I mutter before turning my sights across the parking lot as two of Loretta’s whores hurry across in the dark.
“This her?” I ask Loretta and she rasps a yes before I release her neck and she tumbles to the floor.
The slim girl looks no older than Zoe, her blonde hair pulled up in a mess on top of her head, and the shiner bruising her left eye shows she’s still healing from Adam’s visit.
Fucker.
Her doe eyes look up at me with an air of innocence not typical with one of Loretta’s whores that tells me she’s extremely fucking new in this business.
Fuck. She kind of reminds me of Zoe. So much so that they could be sisters.
“Everyone out.” I order, turning to the small office and raising my brows impatiently as Gertie helps her boyfriend up off the floor. He shoves her away as soon as he’s on his feet and tells her to stay the fuck away from him, and I fucking grin.
Bitch deserved that.
As Loretta stumbles out of the room too, I gesture to the innocent-looking whore to enter the office and step in behind her, closing the door before slipping my gun in the back of my jeans.
“What’s your name?” I ask to see if she tells me the truth, and she clears her throat, her head tilted down as her eyes lift to meet mine.
“My name is whatever you want it to be, sir.”
My lip twitches. Loretta has taught her well.
“I’m not your sir, and I’m not a client. I’m Grayson Black. President of the Cruz Kings MC.” I widen my stance and cross my arms over my chest. “Do you know who I am?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, Mr. Black. I’ve heard of you and yourclub.”
“Call me Gray. Mr. Black makes it sound like I’m a gentleman. And I’m no gentleman.”
She nods quickly keeping her eyes trained on me even as her anxious hands wring together in front of her.
“You had a client last week. His name was Adam. I believe he’s the one who did that to you.” I gesture to her eye with a finger and she nods.
“Yes, sir—Gray. He’s booked me again for next month.”
“So he’s booked you and room sixty-nine for next month? How do you feel about that?”
She clears her throat, shifting anxiously on the spot. “I’m happy to serve my clients.”
Sighing, I step forward and tilt her chin up, so she looks less submissive.
“Stop talking to me the way Loretta has trained you to. I’m not a client, remember. I want to speak to the real you. I want to speak to Erin. That’s your name, isn’t it?”
She nods again.
