Page 8 of Vicious

Ben grabs my arm—not harshly, at least, but enough to steady me—and I look bleakly up at him. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s not keep him waiting.”

I let Ben guide me through the door, for all that I can’t stop stumbling as the truth of what’s just happened rings in my ears over and over again. How is it possible?

One of the new girls had accused Giulio of being despicable, of being sick and demented and so many other things. I’d told her to shut up because there was no point in accusing him of everything he is.

Now I wish I’d said something too, instead of being a fool and thinking behaving and doing what I was told would keep me from a worse fate.

I keep my eyes on the ground, not wanting to see this man who’s just purchased another human being, as we finally come to a stop. I see cigarettes littering the ground, broken glass everywhere, the filth from inside multiplied several times over out here.

I wonder what kind of disgusting conditions I’ll be kept in.

We come to a stop next to a fancy car. Ben opens the back door and pushes me inside. “Behave, okay? Don’t make me have to stuff you in the trunk.”

I shudder at the thought, giving a quick shake of my head as I stare intently down at the clean floorboard. I huddle in the corner of the seat as best I can, taking deep breaths as I tell myself that I’ve survived this long so I can survive this.

Even though there’s no way out.

At least at Ntimacy, I’d had a shot at getting free one day.

Now, though?

That’s all gone.

The door closes, and the locks click.

The car turns on.

“Hey, May,” a familiar voice says.

My head shoots up, and I look at Chase fucking Vicious sitting in the driver seat, smiling at me.

Son of a…

“Looks like I might be able to afford a few more lap dances after all.”

I stare dumbly at him, my brain taking a long moment to process the fact that a, I’ve been bought, and b, I’ve been bought by Chase Vicious.

Hope starts to kindle inside of me. Maybe he really had listened to my pleas. Maybe he had decided to help me after all.

“You’re helping me?” I croak out, barely managing to get the words past my lips.

Chase starts driving. I can still see his smile through the rearview mirror as he replies, “I guess that depends. I bought you. You no longer owe Giulio Pavone. But I do expect to get my money’s worth.”

What?

He meets my eyes in the mirror, and I can see the casual cruelty there that made me resist him, over and over, despite the way he could make my pulse quicken and my body react to him.

The words sink in slowly, too slowly.

His money’s worth.

“I’ll do anything as long as you help Baba,” I say instantly, fumbling for some sort of way to turn this to my advantage even though the lurching of my stomach keeps me from feeling any sort of hope.

“You’ll do anything because I own you,” Chase answers easily.

There’s that word again, that awful, terrible word.

Own.

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