Page 47 of Ruthless

"You're building this all out of proportion, man!" Daryl all but screamed. "What about all the shit you were spewing the other night about how easy it was and how much money could be made? You do this all the time, man!"

"Under the right circumstances!" Clark shouted back. "You think I have control over this? I'm just one of many. I'm a supplier. I listen to what my associates want, and I carefully pick the merchandise. Most of the girls I get for the people I work for are runaways, orphans, women working the streets who won't be missed. Sometimes they're handed to us on a silver platter because someone just wants them to disappear."

I heard Daryl make a frustrated sound that came out like something between a growl and a yell. I began sawing back and forth over the jagged edge of the mirror, nicking myself more than once in the process. The pain of the mirror cutting into my flesh barely registered, nor did the feeling of the warm flow of blood that ran over my hands. All I knew was that I needed to get loose.

"So what the fuck you gonna do, man?"

I recognized Jack's voice.

"Let me think!" Daryl snarled. "Fuck, all I need is enough money to pay off Wicked.”

"You owe Wicked drug money?" Clark's tone revealed that he thought only a fool would get into that kind of trouble. "I heard he and a few of his boys got the shit beat out of them recently. Doesn't surprise me he's dealing drugs, but when it comes to money, he doesn't play around." There was a slight hesitation. "Maybe he'll take the girl as payment. I hear he's been looking around for a new pet."

I could envision Daryl's eyes growing round with excitement at this information.

"Do you think?" Daryl asked with hope.

He was delusional.

"And what, if he doesn't want her we take her to New Mexico?" Jack scoffed with skepticism. "You need the money now, man. Turn her loose."

Yes, let me go!

"Letting her go isn't an option," Daryl insisted. "If Della doesn't make it, she's a witness."

"Fuck, I forgot about that, man."

"I suggest that you don't mention Rebel’s name while you're trying to pawn her off on Wicked," Clark remarked.

I could tell by their voices that they were moving closer to the door, just as I was able to pull my hands free. I brought them around in front of me so that I could inspect them. The cuts were superficial but still stung, fine lines of blood dripping down onto the stained carpet. I glanced again at the window, but the bars were still there. It didn't matter anyway. Before I had a chance to move I heard the door handle rattle, and then a loud thump right before the door was forced open. I quickly returned my hands behind me and stood frozen, watching as Daryl came into the room while Jack and Clark stood back in the doorway. I glared my hatred at Daryl before shifting my gaze to include the two men behind him.

"She is a beauty," Clark commented, stripping me with his beady little eyes. He had a slightly pock-marked face, probably as a result of acne. Goosebumps covered my skin where his gaze touched me, and I was sickeningly aware that I was barefoot and still dressed in sleep clothes that inadequately covered my body. "Too bad she isn't a virgin. The buyers would go wild for her tonight."

Daryl grasped my arm roughly, and it was all I could do to keep my arms behind my back so that he wouldn’t realize that I'd cut my wrists free. Now wasn't the time to make a move to escape, not when I was facing down three men. I knew that I'd have a better chance if I mislead them into believing that I was subdued. I would get them to let their guards down so that I'd have the element of surprise on my side, if only for a few precious seconds.

Lowering my gaze to the floor, I let Daryl drag me from the room.

****

Rebel

"We'll find her, brother," Jace said in response to my smashing the beer bottle against the wall. The bartender frowned, but smartly remained silent as he continued to wipe the bar top down. "We've put the word out. Someone will see something."

We'd spent the afternoon looking for Ginger. Jace's contact had only been able to give us three names of individuals that he knew were involved in human trafficking, and they hadn't panned out. Moody was still out checking his own leads, but time was running out before we'd have to give it up long enough to hit Duponte's estate. That job had to get done, and I wouldn't let Jace down.

I was going to kill Daryl and anyone else who kept Ginger from me, and God help them if they laid a finger on her. I thought about her sweet smile, the fire in her eyes when she let her emotions rule her, the softness of her supple flesh as she yielded to me. Damn, the thought of another man touching her caused me to clench my fist and hit the polished wood of the bar. The pain didn't register, but the rage of frustration that was simmering inside me did. Every minute that I didn't know where she was was fucking torture. I saw Jace motion to the bartender out of the corner of my eye, and then the bartender was setting another beer down in front of me.

"Drink this one first before you throw it," Jace said in a grim tone.

I growled, reaching for it. As I tilted my head back to drink I saw Moody walk in and make his way towards us.

"Anything?" I asked, setting the bottle down.

He shrugged. "Not sure, brother. I ran into Pinkie down at the pier, he had something interesting." Everyone knew that Pinkie sold drugs and that the pier was his home away from home.

"What?" Jace inquired.

Moody motioned for the bartender to bring him a beer before responding. "That someone named Daryl owes drug money to an MC in Sanford. Could be the Daryl that we're looking for."

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