Page 58 of Morally Gray Daddies

“No.” I had dressed warmer and worn my wool coat in preparation for the chilly air of the journey.

Again we rode in silence for miles and miles. I dozed in and out of sleep—shocking considering how bumpy the roads were—and was eventually awoken when the bike came to a stop. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes as I looked around.

We stood near a barn and an old house that reminded me of what I would see in the country back in Russia. The clucking of chickens had me turn to see a large coop with orange, black, and white hens milling about.

“Is this your place?” I asked as I took a tentative step, being careful that my legs hadn’t fallen asleep.

Erik took hold of my arm to help steady me. “No. This is the Marx farm. It’s on the way to my place. We still have another two hours or so until we reach my land, but the roads are tough, and I think our bodies could use the break. Marx is a good man and has provided shelter to me every time I do a job with my brothers.”

A man called loudly from the porch, making us both turn our heads. “Erik, my man! It’s been a while.”

“That’s Marx,” Erik said quietly as the man approached us, grinning broadly. “You better behave. You think Pasco was bad? Marx has an awful temper and won’t tolerate even the slightest act of disrespect. He and his pets live a lifestyle that has very strict rules. And I can bet money you aren’t going to be comfortable with what you see. But this isn’t the place to judge or criticize. You do exactly as he says. Understood?”

Pets?

I swallowed hard at the warning, though the man approaching us did not seem ominous in the slightest. He was small in build, balding, and aging. His face seemed friendly as he reached out and shook Erik’s hand, but looks could be deceiving. My father had appeared nice, and the bastard was definitely not.

“What do you have here? Did you go and get yourself a pet? I thought you said they were too much of a pain to maintain.” Marx looked at me from head to toe as if he were admiring a piece of property. “Pretty one you got here.”

Erik shrugged. “It wasn’t planned. She was on the boat we were robbing. The Godwin fucks were trafficking her over. I couldn’t exactly leave her there.”

“So you claimed her as your own?”

“I suppose that’s what happened.”

“Godwins aren’t going to be happy.”

Erik gave another shrug. “I don’t give a fuck. Poseidon Enterprises is full of sick assholes.” He looked at me. “Who knows what was waiting for her.”

Marx smirked while he continued to gawk at me. “Well, next time you and your brothers go do a job, involve me. If this is the kind of loot you come home with, then I’m in. It’s worth the risk of a death warrant issued by the Godwins for stealing another pet.”

I’m not a fucking pet, I want to snap, but I remembered Erik’s warning and kept my mouth shut.

“There won’t be any other jobs,” Erik said firmly. “That was my last one. I just want to settle down and live off the land. That was always my intent when I moved to Heathens Hollow. Being involved in a sex-trafficking hijack was not my plan.”

“Survival, man. You have to do what you have to do.”

“That was the last job,” Erik said, even firmer than before.

“Too bad. Care to sell?” Marx asked.

My heart stopped, and I looked at Erik in fear of what he would say. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe I had much to say in the matter, but I didn’t want to be sold… again. Oddly enough, I wanted Erik to want to keep me.

“I think I’ll keep her,” Erik said, not looking at me as he responded.

Marx nodded. “Well, come on in. One of my house pets made stew, and it’s simmering inside.”

Erik placed his palm on my lower back and began leading me to the house.

Marx cleared his throat. “I think she may be better off placed in the barn. I rarely allow pets in the house unless they are serving me, cleaning, or cooking.”

Erik stopped, but didn’t say anything. His jaw tightened, and he narrowed his eyes.

“Let’s put her in the barn with my other livestock.” Marx didn’t wait for an answer, but instead headed toward the barn, clearly expecting Erik and me to follow.

“Don’t say a single word,” Erik whispered in a stern warning. He pressed against my lower back and walked behind Marx while I tried not to panic. Livestock? Others? Barn? I was not a fucking animal. Sex slave, victim of circumstance, captive—but I was a woman. A human! Not an animal to sit among the livestock.

Outrage sizzled in my core as I glanced around. I wanted to run, but all I could see was large, expansive land all around, and then dense forest beyond that. So, my only shot at escape would be outrunning Erik, and I wasn’t fool enough to think I could do so. And again, what would I do? Where would I go?

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