Page 60 of Saved By My Buyers

Bronwyn was going to need someone to stay with if she left her father’s house. I know better than anyone that it takes money to survive, and I don’t wish the life I’ve had on anyone. It’s hard, lonely as fuck, and dangerous.

The walk home every night after dancing at the strip club is like a game of Russian roulette, but my apartment is even worse.

My stomach growls at me, reminding me I didn’t eat last night. I passed out too hard, there was no way I was going to be able to eat unless it was in my dreams.

My mind is bouncing from topic to topic, making the room spin as I shut my eyes against it. My body is so fucking weak. My hands clench, my nails digging into my palms as I try to dispel the dizziness.

I’ve gone too long surviving on too much caffeine and not enough food, and now my body is loudly complaining about it.

“Dolly?” Jack asks softly from the floor, but I keep my eyes closed, trying to hold back a whimper. I don’t think I could say anything to him if I wanted to.

I must have fucked karma with a rusty pole in another life for it to give me the life I’ve been living. My life has never been a walk in the park, but it was always the best when I had Bronwyn and Jack.

Forcing my eyes to open, I see he now has his chin propped up on his hands on the bedspread.

“Hey,” he says. “How did you sleep?”

“Like the dead,” I rasp, burying my face against my knee.

“I don’t really care for those words, but alright,” Jack grumbles. “You sound like you went on a bender. What’s wrong?”

“I’m probably crashing from too much caffeine,” I mutter, my words muffled by the blankets. “I’m trying to get the world to stop spinning. Ow.”

“Does your head hurt too?” he asks. Jack keeps his voice low, sounding completely different from the pushy asshole at the club. I’m contractually obligated to be here, but I think he’d have thrown me over his shoulder and walked out if I had refused him.

His fingers massage my scalp, helping the pounding that’s decided to take up residence in my skull now that I’m upright.

“Uh-huh,” I rasp, my eyes fluttering closed. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”

“I doubt you’d have wanted us to join you, and Bee and I didn’t want to leave last night,” Jack says.

Bronwyn groans from where she was sitting against the wall, and I crack my eyes open in time to watch her fucking crawl to the bed. It shouldn’t be sexy, but she’s in a sleep tank and panties and nothing else. I’ve always loved her body, her soul, and heart.

Ugh, I’m sappy and ridiculous.

I’m still wearing this skimpy teddy. It makes me crave more clothing, which is in my backpack. I figured I wouldn’t be naked the entire time, so I packed a few things. It reminds me of how threadbare everything is as I close my eyes against the obvious wealth just in this room.

It’s obvious to me not because Jack throws his money around, but because once you’ve been poor, it’s easy to tell the difference.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Bronwyn murmurs, her cool fingers brushing against my temples. It feels good, so I unthinkingly grasp her hand to keep it there.

“Her head hurts,” Jack rumbles. “We need to get you up and moving, Dolly. You need food, water, and a little caffeine because you’re going into some nasty withdrawals.”

Bronwyn massages my temples, making me whimper, because while it feels good, it also reminds me how long it’s been since anyone has touched me without hurting me. I’ve gone years without a hug or any kind of affection.

The last two months have been spent avoiding my roommates and being forced to provide their next high.

“I think I should change before I get out of bed,” I sigh. Unfortunately, the entire back of this damn teddy is open with its multiple straps covering absolutely nothing, and I vaguely remember throwing the robe away to the side while I was sleeping, because I’m no longer wearing it.

Jack’s firm fingers drag down my back, making me shiver as goosebumps appear down my skin. I’ve never had a man touch me without hurting me, even the private dances at the club insisted that the men couldn’t touch me.

At first, I was terrified of men because of what happened with Gareth. Everyone with a penis reminded me of him, until I had to force myself to dance for money. Then, the fear that everyone was an awful person began to fade, even while knowing how dangerous Detroit was.

If someone could die from being starved for touch, then I probably would have already.

“Brighton carries gorgeous lingerie in their department stores, don’t they?” Jack says. Bronwyn’s fingers freeze for a moment, and I open my eyes at his words.

“How did you know where I bought this?” I ask, struggling to focus despite the pain in my head. My eyes squint a little, as if that’ll help. The blinds are closed against the morning light, yet a caffeine withdrawal headache doesn’t seem to care.

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