Page 3 of Damaged

It took an obscenely long amount of time for the kid to take a step forward, then another. Once he reached the passenger side door, I said, “I have some dry clothes you can wear. They’ll be big on you but at least you’ll be more comfortable. You can change in the back seat while I wait out here. The windows are tinted so no one will be able to see you.”

More long seconds of silence and then finally a brief nod.

I did my best to walk evenly to the back of the SUV so I could fish out a pair of sweats and a loose sweatshirt for him. I grabbed the blanket I kept in case of emergencies and took everything to the front of the car. The kid hesitated before taking them. I opened the back seat passenger door for him. “My name’s Dalton, by the way,” I said as he climbed into the car. “I’ll wait out here until you’re done.”

The kid walked past me. He was close enough that I could smell him.

Lavender.

And a mix of other citrusy flowers.

It was a strange combination for a man, but it had my dick standing at attention nonetheless.

The kid climbed into the car and reached for the handle so he could pull it closed behind him. But just before he did, he softly uttered three little words that hit me like a punch to the gut… not because of the words themselves but the way he said them.

Thank you, Dalton.

Chapter 2

SILVER

Maggie was gone.

It was true.

Even though I’d seen Ivan shoot her in the head, it hadn’t been real until the moment I’d watched people putting roses on the gleaming silver coffin.

Pink roses.

They’d apparently been her favorite.

It was something I never would have known about her because something as beautiful as roses hadn’t lived in my world or in Maggie’s after she’d been taken. Nothing at all had been beautiful in that world.

There had been pain.

Darkness.

Loneliness.

Helplessness.

Fear.

So much fucking fear.

But not beauty.

At best, there’d been moments of peace, but they’d been few and far between, and the things one had to go through to get that peace hadn’t been beautiful in any kind of way. I’d been more fortunate than most since, as Ivan’s personal pet, I hadn’t had to deal with strange men paying for the pleasure of sticking their dicks inside of me. Ivan’s girls hadn’t been as lucky. They’d been sold to the highest bidder, whether it was for an hour or a night or even a lifetime. I’d watched their spirits break day by day as they waited for help that would never come. I’d heard them beg and plead for mercy from their rooms that contained nothing more than dingy mattresses, a sink, and a toilet.

There’d definitely never been any pretty pink roses in those rooms.

The only time the girls were given access to a shower was whenever they had a “date.” That was what the men who’d handled the day-to-day business called it. Those were the times when the nice clothes would be pulled out, an array of makeup and gaudy fake costume jewelry put on the vanity, and an old, dispassionate woman would arrive who was responsible for getting her charges to look date-worthy.

I’d been in charge of taking care of the girls who’d had rough dates. That’s what Ivan had called them.

Rough.

Rough hadn’t even begun to describe the brutality each and every one of Ivan’s women had been forced to endure.

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