Page 4 of Merciful Lies

I can hardly hear myself think as the next raunchy song comes on. This one has a heavier bass, and the lead singer is wailing.

I don’t know the song. But it’s not bad.

My taste in music, like everything else, is eclectic. I listen to everything from classical to classic rock. It all depends on my mood.

But I’m not there for music. I’m there to offer myself like a freaking sacrifice, just like the pretty bartender said. To try to pay my brother’s debts with my body.

I just hoped the king, as Angel called him, doesn’t mind curvy girls.

I am what I am. I was never skinny. But I am healthy despite being sixty pounds overweight, according to my primary.

It seems like a lie, but it’s not. I’m active. I eat right, I just eat a lot, I guess.

But even though I’m a size sixteen, I don’t hate my body like society suggests I should. Who has time for all that?

I’m so busy trying to make ends meet it’s all I can do to manage a home cooked meal a couple of nights a week. Mostly, I eat at the bakery. Cold cuts and ramen noodles, that kind of thing.

“Keep going.”

Angel’s gruff voice interrupts my wayward thoughts and I wonder how a man who looks like an actual demon got a name like that.

He’s huge. Easily six and a half feet tall, and maybe half as wide. The guy could be a professional football player with those shoulders.

But something tells me he isn’t exactly into sportsmanship. Maybe it’s the malocchio, protection against the evil eye, tattoo on his giant biceps or the snake wrapped around a rose inked across his throat that tells me that.

No, it’s his cold blue eyes. They look dead. Like a shark.

Either way, this isn’t a guy I want to fuck with.

I hug myself as I walk carefully down the darkened staircase, following the path to an even darker hallway.

I stumble, but the man behind me grabs my elbow and stops me from falling.

“Look, I don’t know what your boss expects?—”

“He expects to be paid, Anna Keller. One night with you or it’s your brother’s life. If it ain’t worth it to you, I’ll take you back,” he says, pulling me towards the way we just came.

I dig my heels in, shaking my head. Terror threatens to bring me to my knees. I’m not a femme fatale or a working girl. I don’t know how to be sexy or seductive.

But I’ll do just about anything for Sammy. I promised Dad on his deathbed that I’d look out for him.

Always. That was my promise.

My brother isn’t the easiest person to love.

I was still young by the time both our parents died, but I’m one of those old souls. The kind of person who is born with a sense of responsibility some never seem to feel.

Sammy is one of them. He is selfish and spoiled. I can’t think of a single thing he’s ever done for anyone else.

Seems like he is always in trouble. He got kicked out of school. Had problems with drugs and drinking. Now, with the gambling, it was like Dad all over again.

But he’s still my brother. And I’ll do this for him. I’ll give myself to a stranger. A man who by all accounts should terrify me.

“Alright then,” Angel says.

He’s nodding as if he’s made his mind up about something.

What? I have no idea.

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