Page 51 of Cruel Hearts

“Because we know too much. That’s what Mandi says. She’s the redhead.”

Ashamed, I squirm. I didn’t care enough to ask what her name was, and Ash didn’t introduce us.

To Ash, Mandi isn’t a person, only a possession, a plaything, and I’m just as bad.

“I can understand that. What else?”

“If we’re a favorite, men pay more. Even though you’re my priority, I’m someone’s favorite.”

“Whose?”

Nathalie hides her face in my shoulder. “I don’t want to tell you.”

“You need to.”

“Vance Huxley.”

I blow out a breath. Jesus Christ.

“Why does he like you?”

“He says I remind him of his daughter, and he likes to pretend he’s screwing her.”

I want to throw up, and I fight back a mouthful of whiskey and bile. The mayor of King’s Crossing fantasizes about fucking his daughter while he pounds on Nathalie.

I tuck her against me. I’m going to need her help. I can’t let this continue, but I’m not foolish enough to believe I can confront Ash alone. Maybe in the back of my mind I suspected Ash dabbled in prostitution, but I didn’t want to admit it. I was too busy benefiting from it.

“How does he pay you?”

“Through Ladies and Gentlemen. Sometimes my . . . dates like to go there.”

Ash’s strip club. Of course.

“Where do you live?” I’ve never bothered to ask. The minute I’m no longer with her, she ceases to exist until the next time I need her.

I know how I sound.

“Ash owns a complex, and we all have apartments there. I used to live in a crummy efficiency in the basement, but the night Ash realized you would keep seeing me, he upgraded me to a one-bedroom that has a balcony.”

In case I wanted to visit her, or pick her up myself, but I never did. “How many women do you...work with?”

“I have no idea.”

I wrap my arms around her, and she melts against my chest. For five years she’s been available to me, and I’m ashamed I didn’t always treat her well. The pain of losing Stella made me act in ways I’d much rather forget.

Nathalie tolerated it all, and as the days and months blurred together, I began to care. Obviously, not enough to get to know her, but I grew fond of her. I don’t expect that to redeem me. I’ve been nothing less than an asshole. Stella broke my heart, and I gave myself permission to turn into a fucking prick.

“Listen, I’m going to need your help.”

Nathalie sits up. “I can’t. He’ll kill me. He. Will. Literally. Kill. Me. Like the woman who went missing four, five years ago. Do you remember?”

I don’t, and it doesn’t mean shit to me now. “Yes, you can. I don’t know what or how yet, but I can’t do anything without you. Ash can’t keep doing this. The fucking mayor of King’s Crossing uses a prostitution service, and I’m guessing he’s only the beginning of Ash’s client list.”

I raise my eyebrows, hoping she’ll confirm my suspicions, but he’s threatened her for too long, and she clams up.

“I’ll keep you here. I don’t want Ash selling you to Vance Huxley or anyone else.”

“But he’ll—”

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