Page 47 of Keep Me

Roan answers, “Yes.”

“I didn’t ask you,” she says cuttingly, then tilts her head and narrows her gaze like she’s trying to read my thoughts. “You’re the one who wants to know.”

“Yes.” I step forward, not wanting her to think I’m hiding behind Roan. “Name your price, and I’ll pay it.”

An evil smile spreads on her lips. “Excellent.” I feel Roan behind me itching to put himself between me and her.

“Given tonight’s event, I would usually offer you the choice to fuck or fight, but all my men would wipe the floor with you and ten-second fights aren’t much fun. So, that payment option is off the table, which leaves fucking.”

“No. No, absolutely not,” Roan barks, tugging me toward the door. Two men draw their weapons, blocking the exit.

“She already agreed. Payment is owed, and I will get it one way or another,” she says, her voice a chilling mix of sweet and sinister.

I balk. “I didn’t agree—”

“Name your price, and I’ll pay it,” she parrots my earlier words. My stomach drops like a stone. I didn’t mean it as a blind agreement, but I can tell it isn’t worth arguing semantics. Roan warned me not to agree to anything right away, and my stupid choice of words…fuck.

“So you want to fuck me?” I ask, trying to understand.

“She doesn’t want to fuck you,” Roan says through gritted teeth, his fists clenching and his feet shifting into a fighting stance. “I’ll do it.”

“That’s not how it works.” She tuts with a smug smirk. I look between the two of them trying to grasp what I’m clearly missing. “I have some absolute beasts lined up for the night and you’re so…” She eyes me up and down. “Dainty. The crowd will go crazy watching them tear you apart.”

“Them?” I squeak, my stomach roiling as I process her words.

“Over my dead body,” Roan growls, shoving me behind him.

“We can arrange that,” she says superciliously. The sound of a cocking gun makes my blood go cold. One of the men at the door has stepped up to my back and holds a gun to the back of Roan’s head by reaching over me.

“That’s unnecessary, I’ll do it!” I shout, jumping out from between Roan and the gunman, trying to draw everyone’s attention to me.

“Like hell you will,” he snarls and lunges for me, but stops when the barrel reconnects with his head.

“I didn’t say you could move,” the man says gruffly.

“You don’t know what you’re agreeing to.” Roan’s voice is strained, and his eyes plead with me.

“I do. You want me to fuck men in front of the crowd. And if I do it, you won’t kill him, right?” I hate the small bits of panic and desperation that leak into my voice.

“I don’t want you to fuck men. I want you to get fucked by men. People paid good money for a show, and I will give them one.” She twirls a strand of her raven hair around her finger like I’m on the verge of boring her.

I swallow deeply and try to stand tall and straight. I can’t bear to look at Roan. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

“Wait—wait!” For the first time since I met him, Roan sounds frazzled.

“One more outburst, and he’s pulling the trigger, Mr. Fox,” the priestess snaps, and Roan moves his hand in a settling motion like he’s trying to defuse the situation.

“You said the option is usually fuck or fight, yeah?” He keeps his tone calm and even. “Let me fight. Your people want a show? I’ll give them a damn bloody one.”

She swings her eyes up to the fluorescent lights and sighs as if in thought. After a beat, her shocking green eyes shoot back to Roan with a new, devilish sparkle. “Deal. But you’re fighting with Lady Luck.”

I listen to the crowd stomp and clap their hands, anxiety swirling in my gut as I tape Roan’s hands in a back room. His face is a stone mask. “We could run,” I blurt out.

He looks up at me from the bench he’s sitting on with a crooked smile. “Don’t get soft on me now, Cortez.”

I wind the tape around his hand once more. “Don’t let your ego get in the way. Tap out if you have to.”

“No win, no information.” He shrugs, flexing his fingers to test the wrapping.

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