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But then the tasks grow harder.
More degrading.
We’re stripped down, dressed in next to nothing and marched around the room, shivering from the cold, for the amusement of one of the men. He sits in a winged-back chair, watching as we walk past. Again and again.
His eyes track Miri’s every move, and it turns my stomach to lead. Our feet grow numb and painful from the heels we’re forced into, but there’s no relief. It’s like she’s breaking in wild horses, getting us to parade in front of her obediently.
Miri’s face reminds me of the fear and pain we’re all suffering under the surface, and I refuse to show a sign of weakness. I’ve still not uttered a word in English other than the lines we’re meant to learn. I don’t plan on giving away the fact I can understand anything she says in English anytime soon.
At night, or what I assume is night, the other girls often talk to each other. Some in Danish, others in broken English. They speak of home and a debt they owe, of their hope of working soon. And all the while I lie with Miri, praying I can keep her safe.
The trips to the training room continue, day in, day out. We only eat while in that room. Sometimes just crap fast-food. Other times, food is served on the table where we pretend to be part of some twisted, fake dinner party. As long as we sit tall, use the correct silverware, and smile politely, the woman – the trainer – seems happy.
Every time we’re collected, I look for the man from the dock. Sometimes I see him in the shadows. His scowl should remind me I shouldn’t be looking for help, but there’s a part of me that won’t believe that. His instinct was to help, and I have to hold onto something here. It makes me wonder if he’s as bad as he looks.
The other man – the one that the trainer brings into the room with her – is the one I worry about. Everything from his smirk and American drawl to his wandering eyes tells me he’s enjoying this, and I’m relieved we’ve never been left in a room alone with him.
Chapter Five
JACKSON
Everything’s coming together as it should do.
I sit, watching the parade of four girls as they go by me for this round of training. Elias is sitting in the opposing chair, his eyes glued to each one with little, if any, respect for their purpose here. One thing we’re not supposed to do is fuck any of them. Cortez sent that message loud and clear by way of Dragon yesterday. I looked for too long, spent too much time appreciating the view of my little elf as she kept moving around. She was dragged out of the room before I got a chance for any more appreciation. Fuck knows where to, but when I questioned him later, when I dared show an opinion on why she was singled out, he pushed me back to the wall to explain the state of play.
Rough hands held me fast, the pressure behind them forcing me to bow the fuck down. I didn’t at first. Pride, frustration, possible fucking madness gripped me. It made me shove back, enough of a show that he faltered for a split second.
Didn’t last any longer than that before he got in real close to prove a point. “Do it again and we’ll have to see about taking those eyes out of your skull, Reed. The merchandise isn’t for touching. You get me?” I stayed square with his eyes. Kept my own glare as vicious as I could under that threat. He didn’t budge. He moved closer in and smiled, almost willing me to fuck up and try out his kind of entertainment.
Much more of that kind of crap and I'm going to lose my shit around both of them. Elias can look, but I, the fucking owner of this place, can’t? I’ll look at whatever the hell I like. Her included. Doesn’t mean I’m going to do anything fucking stupid.
I’m still pissed about that moment even now.
And getting more pissed by the day despite the money I’m about to make.
Standing, I leave and make the trip down the stairs to get to the cellar. The trainer – Carmen – is there when I get through the last door. She looks up at me and smiles, then gets back to whatever she’s doing on her tablet.
“Can I help you, Jackson?” she murmurs.
“No.”
My hands find my pockets, gaze taking a good look at the four left in the locked room. In particular, my elf. Five is her name, apparently. Doubt that's what it was when she arrived.
Carmen stands as the sound of heels echo down the stairs and takes her bunch of keys to unlock the door. By the time the four from upstairs are there, she’s already calling the other four out to get ready. A selection of clothes is passed to them as they file out. All high-end. All classy.
Five takes a blue satin dress and grabs the matching heels, but she’s not really doing anything other than keeping an eye on the younger one. I’m trying not to give a fuck, trying to do what Dragon’s told me to do, but the fact is both of them are starting to affect me. It’s not just the view. It’s the whole scenario around what’s going to happen after this is done because I know the clients that will be here on the night now.
They’re all villains, like me. Or fucked in the head, like most of us have become over time because of the world we live in. Morals don’t mean anything to us, nor do we appreciate the law or any code of conduct where ethics are concerned. These girls – every single one of them – will be treated like slaves for the rest of their lives. They’ll be forced, raped, and used. Degraded and sullied as often as their new owner sees fit.
And I’m the one making that happen.
“Jackson?” I look up and find Jamie in the room, a quizzical look in her eye. “Alright?” I nod and leave her down here with the girls, unsure what she’s here for but at least knowing it’ll be for their own good rather than what I’m doing for them.
By the time I’m back to passing through the main room, all four girls are learning to dance more proficiently than they could when they arrived. Elias is eating up every inch of that show. One by one, they’re being made to give him a lap dance, learning how to bring a man close to the edge before moving away.
The music changes, creating a low, sexy vibe in the room with the lights so dim. It’s the younger one’s turn now. She’s not up for it, no matter how much she’s trying to show her worth. Five is like a hawk over there, her constant glances making sure his hands aren’t too close. What the hell she thinks she’s going to do when he does touch her is anyone’s guess. Either way, he will. This is the time for them to start being handled. There’s no point being a whore for men like us if you don’t know how to be touched.
Dragon walks in a few minutes later.
