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“The truth, Tati. I can call someone to come here, and nobody would ever know. Trust me.”
She nods. “Yes.”
“Where?”
“My arm and my stomach,” she chokes out.
She leans back and lifts the arm furthest from me. Judging from the color and size of her wrist, I’d say it’s broken. My eyes move down her naked body, cataloging the vicious bite marks and fingerprint-shaped bruises before they land on her stomach.
I can’t see any significant damage, but that doesn’t mean things aren’t fucked up on the inside. I pull out my phone, fire off two texts, and wait for a reply before I shove it back into my pocket.
“The doctor is on her way. I’m going to help you out of the tub and get you dried off while we wait.”
She grabs my arm when I move to stand up. “I need to get him off me,” she begs.
I look into her eyes and nod before taking a washcloth from the rack in the corner and soaping it up with a bottle of fruity shower gel. Gently, I wash away the horror of her night. I don’t tell her we need to preserve the evidence. We both know she’d be dead before a statement could ever be taken.
Grabbing a towel, I drain the water before reaching for her so she can use me for support. It’s not easy. I end up soaked trying to get her out without hurting her. Her whimpers breaking my heart. Once she’s out, I wrap her in the fluffy towel and help her walk out of the bathroom. When I get her into the bedroom, she freezes, staring at the bed with terror in her eyes. I ease her down to the floor, yanking a pillow off the bed to put under her head. Spotting a robe on the back of the door, I grab it and lay it over her, keeping her covered and warm as she starts to shake.
“Tell me what happened, Tati.” I smooth her hair away from her face and keep my voice soft.
“I was just doing my job. It was a rough night. I’m fine now,” she says, almost robotic, even with the rough rasp.
“This is not your fault, Tati. They pay to fuck you, not fuck you up.” I fight it, but the anger is there, boiling up to the surface.
“You’re the only one that thinks that,” she whispers, looking up at me as tears slip out the corner of her eyes.
“I’m not. I’m just the only one not afraid to say it out loud.”
“I’m a whore, Nova.”
“You’re a fucking human being.”
She shuts up, and I let her have a moment to collect herself while I get my temper under control.
Once upon a time, Tati grew up like most other women in our world. Her father was a made man, her mother a former beauty queen, and her older brother was starting in the family business until it was revealed that Daddy was a traitor. There are many things that we hold dear in our world, but nothing ranks higher than loyalty.
Punishment meant the execution of her mother, father, and brother. Tati was spared because she was only fifteen at the time. Despite the don’s many flaws, he loathes violence against children. I don’t know the ins and outs of what went on after that, but five years ago, Tati was back on the scene as a working girl entertaining high-end clients and made men.
She says it was her choice, but something tells me there weren’t many options. The son—or, in this case, daughter—shouldn’t pay for the sins of their father, but they always do. Legacies are forged in blood and steeped in violence.
“It was Aldo,” she says, breaking the silence. I don’t react, already knowing what she was going to say. “It’s done. I’m fine. I justneed to rest.”
“I know, Tati,” I soothe. “Tell me the rest.”
“He was late. He was supposed to be here by three, but when he still hadn’t arrived by four, I decided to get changed and have something to eat before getting ready for my next client. They have different… tastes than Aldo.”
I keep stroking her hair, letting her talk while I listen.
“He turned up at four fifteen, pissed that I wasn’t dressed the way he wanted me to be.”
“That was just a convenient excuse to take his anger out on you. There was nothing you could have done, Tati.”
“I knew it was going to be bad. I even tried to tell him I was sick, but he didn’t care. I don’t get to tell him no. I…he…” She sucks in a breath, then groans in pain.
“Shh… I don’t need the details, Tati. I can see what that fucker has done to you.”
A light knock on the door has Tati tensing. I get to my feet and look out the peephole. Seeing a familiar face, I pull my gun and open the door.
