Page 82 of Filthy Liar

It’s everything that I never wanted and yet exactly where I ended up. I’m in this club, which is no doubt doing all kinds of illegal shit if they’re associated with the Southern Mafia. I was basically sold or given to this man. Whatever it was, he came barreling into my life and my bed without telling me who and what he was.

Humble took me like he owned me. Because he feels as though he does. But I allowed it to happen, wanted it—craved it even. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say no to him.

I’m addicted.

He leaves me alone after promising to have some food delivered to the clubhouse. I don't get any new information from him, and then he’s gone, leaving me alone in the kitchen again, staring at the closed door he just walked through.

I slide my tongue along my bottom lip, then my stomach growls. With a small jump, I turn around and start to open the kitchen cabinet doors in search of a pantry. They’ve got to have chips or something here. These guys seem like chip guys.

“Whatever they have here is probably stale,” a voice murmurs.

Lifting my head from the cabinet, I turn and look at the woman who was in here… the woman who caught us. I can feel my face heat instantly at the sight of her. If she notices, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she lifts her hand, and in said hand is a bag dangling from her fingertips.

“Figured you’d be hungry. We haven’t been shopping in a while.”

I stare at her, unsure of how to respond. She’s smiling at me from across the room. She saw Humble having sex with me, and now she’s got food in her hand. But where did she come from? Because I saw zero women in here earlier.

“Ummm, thanks?”

She laughs as she moves toward the counter, then sets the bag down. Closing the cabinet door, I turn to her and watch as she moves around the kitchen. It’s effortless, as if she knows every inch of this place… as if this were her home.

“I’m not really supposed to talk to you,” she murmurs as she plates the food.

My mouth drools at the scent of the french fries as she takes them from the bag. And the sandwich is mouthwatering. It’s a wrap with steak, lettuce, and what looks like a ranch-type sauce.

The stranger turns around with one of the plates in her hand and extends it toward me. Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around it and swallow hard because I’m so damn hungry.

“Come on,” she says, jerking her chin toward the small card table in the corner of the room.

Following behind her, I carry my plate, gripping it with both hands. The moment my butt hits the chair, I reach for a fry and pop it into my mouth, moaning as the salt touches my tongue.

“They call me Firecracker,” she announces, popping a fry into her mouth as well, smiling as she chews.

I don’t know what kind of name that is, or her purpose here, but I can guess. She’s got big hair, heavy makeup, and skimpy clothes on. I have no doubt who and what she is for these men.

My family had women as well.

Women who didn’t speak but were seen. Who didn’t speak but were used. Who were bought and sold. Who were for one purpose and one purpose only. Nameless bodies for pleasure… and not their pleasure. For the men.

“Are you one of their women?” I ask.

She picks up her wrap and brings it to her lips, then lowers it slightly. Her gaze searches mine for a moment. I’m not sure if she is going to answer me or not. Maybe I pissed her off. I’m not sure. Since I don’t know her at all, and this is the first time I’ve ever talked to her, I have nothing to go off of.

“I’m one of their girls,” she murmurs. “But maybe not the way you think.”

Arching a brow, I take a bite of my wrap. As I chew slowly, I decide that I probably shouldn’t ask any questions that I don’t really want the answers to. Staying quiet, I chew my food, which is amazing.

Beyond amazing.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m starving, but this is better than any other wrap I’ve ever eaten in my life. I’m having a hard time following the conversation or even caring because it’s just that good, and I’m just that hungry.

Firecracker isn’t as hungry as I am, though, because she continues to talk, telling me more than I think she probably is allowed. But I don’t question her or stop her because I want to know more about Humble’s world.

“I’m here because they help me out. It’s protection, but it’s more than that. I don’t have anyone. No family, no friends. They are my family, and I have stability here. Something I’ve never had before.”

Nowthat,I understand.

“So, having sex with them for all of that seems like a small price to pay. Plus, they all make sure that I get mine every single time. I can’t complain about any of it.”

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