Page 2 of Lord of Vice

“Pretty Penny. I wonder what you’re thinking,” the older of the two assholes snorted.

If I had a single additional person say to me ‘a penny for your thoughts’ for the rest of my life, I was likely to go ballistic. No, I knew it for certain. As I stood in front of the two assholes who owned the club, I had a feeling the one leering at me the most was about to pop the question. Or maybe he believed now that the two of them had me in their crosshairs he could demand something more… personal of me.

That made my skin crawl.

“It was five minutes,” I insisted. Maybe at this point since I’d been given two prior warnings for being late, I should grovel at their feet, but I couldn’t do that. For all the things that had been stripped from me over the years, I refused to allow my self-esteem or my humility to be taken away. My mama hadn’t raised me that way.

“Five minutes too late, girlie. You were told what would happen if you chose to be late again,” the main guy who was sitting on his fat ass puffing on a cigar huffed, a gleam in his eye. His voice sounded like the thousands of drinks and tobacco products he’d indulged in over the years had taken a toll. Of course, he’d also obviously had his nose smashed more than once. Sylvester was the biggest prick I’d ever met, his greasy hair matching his oily stench that always created knots in my stomach.

“What a shame,” Rocco Morelli stated with a gleam in his eye. “And we were going to place you on the auction block tonight.”

“Maybe we still should.” Sylvester was seriously thinking it over. “A price needs to be paid.”

The big, fat pig was serious.

The auction block. Sex trading for big dollars was huge in Vegas. So far, I’d been able to avoid being lured or forced. Maybe now was the right time to stop working here after all. The gossip around the club was that a few girls had disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again. I could find a job working at Burger King or maybe a supermarket.

“My car wouldn’t start. Not that either one of you care about the crap I go through.” Because it was a piece of shit. Oh, hold on. Now I was whining? To hell with them. This had to be karma. Maybe it was shouting at me to get the hell out of town.

“She’s got a mouth on her,” Sylvester said, grinning. “That would fetch us a nice price.”

“I could help tame her,” the younger dude tried, even daring to walk closer. “But she would make an excellent addition. Granted, not as young as we like and our clients prefer, but I think they’ll make an exception.” He wrapped his hand around my throat, lifting me onto my toes.

Oh, fuck, no. At first, I’d ignored the scuttling of rumors, the girls warning me to keep out of their crosshairs for fear I’d disappear one day. Up to a few days before, they’d remained mostly professional around me. Now I wasn’t certain of anything.

Sylvester grinned. “Yeah, it would be fun to rip away all that innocence she tries to fake. We know better, honey. You were made to be a fucking whore.”

Rocco Morelli dared to cup and squeeze my breast. Maybe my impetuous actions would get me in serious trouble one day, but I refused to allow some slimy asshole to fondle me. I popped himin the face with enough force his hold was broken, his massive body tossed back by a few feet.

Sylvester moved his heavy body shockingly fast, backhanding me with enough force I was tossed against the wall. My ears were immediately ringing as I tried to get my balance. The two men were laughing.

“She’s a bitch, Sylvester. We don’t need her. I say we get rid of her.”

I threw my hand out in response, doing everything I could to stand without falling over. Tears sprang to my eyes, fear clawing my throat until I was suffocating. The bastards were going to kill me.

Get out. Get the hell out.

I turned on my heel, throwing my head and shoulders back as I took long strides out of their office, heading for the employee locker room. The shitty space was also known as a sweat box since the cheap bastards had refused to fix the air conditioning unit in that part of the building. As I passed by several of the other showgirls, I could see shock and horror in their eyes. We all knew far too well the kind of brutality the men were capable of. Many of us had seen it firsthand.

You didn’t go against the Morelli brothers without savage punishment.

I was sweating, constantly looking over my shoulder. What if they caught me? What if I was sold to some horrible monster? I had to get the hell out of the place.

Girls passed me, bumping into me as if on purpose. Another wave of fear tore into my system, the rush of adrenalinesomething I knew would be short lived. I tasted blood, the sickening sweet copper taste a reminder that the assholes were dangerous. Tears continued to fall, burning my eyes as I fled.

The inner voice inside my head was screaming to GTFO before I was made into hamburger for their lunch. I had no doubt the bullish men tossed the girls they hated into the large shark tank inside their hotel. How many times had I envisioned accidentally on purpose tossing one or both of the bastards into the massive saltwater aquarium just to see if they could swim?

Making demands also wasn’t in my best interest, but I was owed almost two full weeks. And I desperately needed the money. Rent on the place I shared with another dancer was due, my bank account running short, and my puppy needed his vaccinations in less than two weeks.

Maybe I’d been as naïve as I’d been accused of being after moving to Las Vegas. I’d hoped I could bring my dancing skills and successes to Sin City. However, I’d learned quickly that unless you knew someone in power or slept with them, you rarely were even shown the brass ring.

After grabbing my things, I didn’t waste any time taking long strides into the parking lot, the late afternoon sun hitting me square in the eyes. I only prayed to God my little Toyota could make it for another few weeks. By the time I reached the driver’s door, I was shaking all over, almost dropping the keys before managing to unlock, throw open the door, and slip inside.

As I prayed the engine would start, I noticed the younger of the two brothers was standing just outside the door smoking a cigarette. He didn’t need to chase me. In a town that coveted bad men, I was well aware the bastard could find me. While the sun could be playing tricks, I knew in my heart he was glaring at mewith venom in his eyes. I held my breath, the silent prayer bigger than usual.

What the fuck had I done?

When the engine turned over easily, purring like a kitten, I stroked her dashboard. “Thank you, baby.” At least I had a quart of ice cream I would allow myself to indulge in as I cuddled with Remington under the covers. Tomorrow, I’d need to regroup.

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