Page 42 of Chasing Lynda

Her voice is scratchy, as if she were trying not to cry. “He—he did. He put his hands on me a few times to adjust my pose and then he told me to open my dress. When I said no, he cussed at me and tried to yank my zipper open. He said Dodge wanted topless photos and if I didn’t agree to it, I’d get no prize.”

I don’t think when I take one of her small, trembling hands into mine. She doesn’t move away, and while I’m so pissed I could kill Monroe, I almost get distracted by the feel of her smooth, soft skin.

“Monroe, this is unacceptable,” I say with my most threatening tone.

The bastard has an arrogant smile on his face, his gold tooth flashing as he sneers at me and Zane. “You know, with girls like this one, you’d probably get a piece even without acting like her knight in shining armor. Whatever, I was gonna break her in for you, but she’s all yours. The party upstairs will be bursting at the seams with pussy on a silver platter. We have enough material for the website, without the topless shots, as long as you’re happy to give some refunds. It’s gonna be a few thousand.”

I don’t understand. “Refunds? What the fuck—”

“Why do you think I wanted photos of her tits? Some of the VIP guests upstairs paid for signed prints and a private dance with our little Miss Wet T-shirt.”

That’s definitely the last straw. I don’t even waste my time explaining how seedy and disgusting that all is. How we aren’t a fucking strip club—not that I haven’t visited my fair share of those fine establishments, but that’s beside the point—I’m done with this lowlife and his money-making schemes.

“You’re fired. Get the fuck out of here before I have security throw you out. We have your details on file to send you your last paycheck. Get out of my face.”

He obviously doesn’t understand when it’s time to cut your losses and get the hell out of dodge—pun totally not intended. “You can’t do that! I have a contract, Dodge’s father hired me to—”

“If you haven’t noticed, Pleasure Beach is under new management. We won’t be needing your services any longer.” I level a hard stare on him. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”

Monroe finally understands that I mean it and attempts to revert my decision; he stops arguing, issuing what he probably considers a serious threat. “You think you can just fire me like this? I’m gonna sue you for wrongful termination.”

I’m not scared of him. I’ve been standing up to bullies all my life. My family first and foremost. “I’d like to see you try. Do that and we might press charges for assault. When I entered the room, you had your hands on Lynda; and by the look of it, she wasn’t consenting to having your filthy hands on her person.”

At hearing me mention her, Lynda moves closer to me, as if seeking protection from Monroe’s next venomous words.

“Just drop the act, Bennett! I promise you you don’t need to act all protective to get her to suck your cock. Just look at her! She’s as trashy as they come. She’d probably service the three of us for a fucking hot dog off the stand on the boardwalk.” He looks at her and I have to use all my might not to gauge his eyes out. “Don’t you, darling?”

I’m about to throw all caution to the wind and take matters into my own hands, when Zane snaps.

“Say another insulting thing about Lynda, or about any other woman for that matter, and you’re going to enjoy the hot dog you were talking about through a straw. Didn’t you hear Bennett? Get the fuck out of here. Now!”

***

Lynda

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I RELAX WHEN THAT HORRIBLE man leaves the room, still spewing insults and threats.

The last thing I hear him say is, “You’ll regret this, you rich, entitled pricks. You don’t even know that you’re playing with fire.”

I sag against Bennett’s hard side, putting a hand on his warm, strong chest to avoid crumbling onto the tiled floor of the poolside makeshift set.

He tightens his hold on me, offering the support I need.

Since my wedding night, I’ve been wary of strangers getting too physically close; especially men.

Kelley was the only guy I could tolerate being close to while I was recovering at the compound. Something must’ve changed when I got here in Bridgeport, because I let Bennett and his friends get much closer than anyone has ever gotten to me in the last year.

Maybe being on the run and having to hide and shy away from other people has made me hungry for human interaction, but I think the truth is more complex than that.

These guys for some reason don’t make my “spidey sense” tingle.

My sixth sense has saved me more than once from being caught by the police or by someone who saw some of the “missing person” flyers Aaron keeps spreading not only all over the state, but all over the country.

When I’m next to these guys, I immediately relax; like right now, all I can think of is how good Bennett smells and how warm he feels through the cotton of his button down shirt.

“Lynda, are you all right?” he asks. “I saw what that asshole was doing when Zane and I got here, did he do anything else to you? Because if he did, so help me God—”

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