Page 62 of The Devil's Den

“Well, no, I guess you should. I’ve been doing this for a very long time, so I’m immune now.” She picks up a curling iron. “I have stuff you can take. You know, to make the experience duller? It helps.”

“Drugs?”

She nods. “They give it to us if we want it. I have a lot for the new girls who come here.”

Picking up the spray from in front of me, she adds some to my hair.

“No. I’m not interested. If my father wants me to be raped, I’m going to remember everything.”

She stills, her movements paused. “Your father?”

“Your boss. Agnelo.”

She gapes in shock, her full, bright red lips stunned like the rest of her. “My. God. I thought my life was bad. That’s some sick shit.”

“Tell me about it.”

She curls the ends of my hair, then starts on my makeup. I don’t even know what she’s putting on, but it’s a lot of stuff. From my eyes to my chin, she covers every part of my face. I’ve never worn makeup. I never wanted to.

“You ready to see yourself?” She grins like she just prettied me up for a school dance.

I nod, and she turns me toward the mirror.

“Holy crap,” I whisper.

“Good, right?”

I can’t stop staring. It doesn’t even look like me. My brows are thicker looking, my lips a soft pink, while my cheeks a darker rosy hue, touched with a shimmer. There are also shades of brown on my lids.

“You’re really good at this.”

“I know.” She stands taller. “I used to be a makeup artist before…”

Her eyes grow distant. Sad. But instantly she erases it, as though that mask has melted right back into her face, helping her to forget someone she once was. “Anyway. You’re ready,” she announces.

But that’s the last thing I want to be. My pulse beats so loud, it pounds in my ears. “Do you know who I’ll have to…”

“I don’t know. They don’t tell us. Just ignore the crowd.”

“Crowd?” My eyes grow with a wild stare as I spin toward her, gut roiling.

“Shit. Sorry. I forgot to mention that. Yeah, there’ll be a crowd. They’ll have masks on though, which is the only good thing, because at least you can’t see them.” She kind of frowns. “I’m sorry. I really am. But you’ll be okay.”

But when the door opens and Drew shows his face, I know I won’t be. My stomach falls, my body erupting into a burning chill.

I pull away as he advances. “Please, don’t do this,” I sob. But he grabs my arm. “No!” My fingertips reach for Destiny, my eyes glued to hers as I’m yanked out the door.

“Don’t cry,” she calls. “You’ll ruin your makeup.”

* * *

MATTEO AGE 22

They woke me up in the middle of the night—two of Agnelo’s men whom I’ve never seen before. They took off the chain and brought me into a van, telling me Agnelo had demanded my presence.

We finally reach wherever we’re going, the blindfold on me with a bag over it. The only other time I ever wore it was when I was a kid, taken to that club they run. But why the hell would I be going there now? I’ve never had to do shit there, but what if that’s what he wants? What if that’s further punishment for offing his men? But better me than Aida.

Someone opens the door, and a hand pulls me out. “Move.” The voice is gruff.

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