Page 5 of Entangled in Them

Rue

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I HUDDLED ON THE FLOOR, trying to make myself as small as possible. The three men stood over me, staring down as though they’d suddenly discovered a weird and slightly repulsive alien species in their apartment.

I wasn’t used to this response. Normally, a group of guys, when handed a woman and told they could do whatever they wanted with her, would at least come out with some derogatory comments, but not these men. Would they hit me? Kick me, maybe? Or perhaps they’d just grab me and throw me back out again.

I doubted they’d do the latter. When the Capellos told a person to do something, they normally did it.

“I think you’ve got some serious explaining to do,” the blond guy asked of the one with dark hair and piercing green eyes.

“I was trying to get a little extra cash together, that’s all.” It was the dark-haired one who’d spoken, and I detected an Irish accent.

The black guy shook his head in disbelief. “By getting involved with the Capellos?”

I was trying to align their names with their faces, but no one had used any names yet. The last guy who’d spoken was handsome—tall, with a smooth, shaved head and stubble that wasn’t far off being a goatee. They were all good-looking, well dressed in smart shirts, and with that put-together look of having money. It was a look I recognized well from my time around men exactly like these three. Well, maybe not exactly like them. There was something different about them, but I hadn’t put my finger on what it was just yet.

The Irish guy pulled a face. “I was hoping you weren’t going to have to find out.”

“What did you need the money for, Dillon?” the blond demanded.

Dillon. So, the dark-haired one with the accent was called Dillon. I wondered why he was the one who was in trouble.

Dillon shrugged. “Nothing much.”

The black guy lifted his eyebrows. “Nothing much? You don’t mess around with people like the Capellos for ‘nothing much.’ Are you in trouble? Have you been gambling again? Do you owe people money?”

Dillon’s pale cheeks had flared red in anger, a shock of color against his dark hair and thick, dark eyebrows, and for a moment I felt sorry for him. Perhaps that was stupid, considering I was the one who’d just been handed over to three men who clearly didn’t want me, but I did.

He scowled in response. “For fuck’s sake, Kodee. I don’t owe anyone money, okay?”

So, he was Kodee. I was starting to put the men together with their names. I wondered what the blond was called.

The blond shook his head. “Fucking hell. What are we supposed to do now?”

They all looked back down at me again, and I squeezed myself into a ball, wishing I could vanish.

If they threw me out, I would have to sit against the door until they let me back in again. I didn’t have anywhere to go, and it wasn’t as though I could go back to the Capellos. They’d assume I’d done something wrong, and I’d be the one who’d be punished for it.

The blond reached down and grabbed me by the arm. “Come on. You can’t stay here.”

I hung from his grip, not making any effort to fight back. In my life, I did and said whatever the men who owned me told me to, and right now it seemed these men were going to own me. For the moment, at least.

“Leave her alone, Ryan,” Kodee snapped.

His grip on my bicep didn’t relax, his fingers digging into my skin. “We don’t want her here.”

Kodee gestured toward their front door. “But you can’t just throw her out onto the street.”

Dillon dragged his hand through his hair. “Jesus.”

The way he said the word sounded like Jay-sus.

The blond—Ryan—released me, and I fell back to the floor.

“What’s your name?”

He directed the question at me.

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