Page 10 of Ginger

I didn’t bother acknowledging his statement. He wasn’t asking. He’d already figured it out, or at least part of it. Just how much did he know? What would happen when he heard the entire sordid tale? Would I be given back to those men? Thrown out into the streets? Or would they decide to abuse me like others had before them?

He slid his hands from the sides of my breasts to my hips. “He said he’d enjoyed you until you got too curvy. Please. Ginger, please fucking tell me he didn’t mean what I think he did.”

I stared at his chin, refusing to look him in the eye. This was it. The moment the club discovered how dirty I was. I might be one of their club girls, and they often referred to us as whores, but they didn’t realize how true that word was when it came to describing me. If Houston kept pushing for information, I’d have to spill my secrets.

His hold on me tightened. “Ginger. Tell me.”

“Is that an order?” I asked.

“I may be an asshole, but I’m not a monster,” he said. “I need to know I’m wrong.”

I licked my lips and hopes I had the strength to talk about what I’d been through. “When I was nine, my parents died in a fire. The people at social services sent me to live with my uncle, a man I’d never met and hadn’t even known existed.”

Houston pressed closer, bracing his hands on the wall on either side of me. I breathed in his scent of leather and spice, trying to slow my chaotic thoughts.

“I was twelve the night I met Tom Rutledge II. My uncle sold my innocence to him, in order to cancel out any debts between the two of them.” Flashes of that night filled my mind. The confusion. Pain. How dirty I felt after, no matter how much I’d scrubbed my skin. “I saw him nearly every night after that until I turned sixteen and my breasts finally developed.”

The sound Houston let loose was a mix of anguish and fury. He slammed his fist into the wall three times, putting a hole through the plaster.

“I let that monster, that… rapist… a fucking pedophile into my clubhouse! Invited him in with open arms. Then I dragged you down there and forced you to offer yourself up to him.” Houston took a ragged breath. “Fuck! Dammit, Ginger. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Like what? Tell you I’d rather be a whore for your club, where at least I had a roof over my head, food in my belly, and it was my choice for men to touch me? That I’d prefer that to what Bruno liked doing to me, now that I’m too old for Tom. You’d have looked at me with disgust. Known I was dirty.”

He cupped my cheek, his hand slightly shaking. “Don’tevercall yourself dirty again, you hear me? I was such an asshole when you showed up, and I’ve been one ever since. Pushed you away. Tried to make you feel like you’re ugly and unwanted.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why did you do all that?”

His body sagged, and he sank onto the chair nearby, pulling me with him. He wrapped his arms around me and held on, running his fingers up and down my spine. “I knew you were young. Barely eighteen. I thought you had a future that was better than being a club whore. I didn’t want you here, throwing away your chance at a good life.”

“So you tried to push me away?” I asked.

He nodded. “We’re not bad men, Ginger. When you went upstairs that first day with Reno and Bronx, we knew they wouldn’t hurt you. Vegas and I had a talk while you were gone. We decided we’d make things difficult for you. We hoped it would push you away, make you leave and not wreck your life.”

He tightened his hold on me, nearly crushing me to him. That’s why he’d been so cruel? So cold? The two of them had tried to force me to leave in order to save me? They’d gone about it the wrong way, but it was kind of sweet.

“Do Reno and Bronx want to keep you?” he asked. “Did they ask you to be their old lady?”

I had no idea what he meant. And no, they hadn’t. It made me curious why he’d thought they would have asked me. I wasn’t anything special. Sure, they’d been nice to me, treated me well. But Houston made it sound like something more was going on. He had to be wrong. Right?

“I need to tell Vegas,” he said. “He needs to know we can’t do business with those men. Or anyone associated with them. No deal is worth it.”

“They know where I am now,” I said. “I can’t hide from them.”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, Ginger. You’re safe here.”

Laughter bubbled up, but I forced it down. Safe. I didn’t know what safe felt like. Not really. I’d thought I’d found it here until they’d invited my tormentors right through the door. I couldn’t blame them. They hadn’t known about my past or my connection to Tom Rutledge II.

“What I said before… about you not being my type? I’m sorry I was so cruel to you. Truth is, I think you’re beautiful, Ginger. Every man in this club does.”

The door opened, and I tensed. I heard the heavy tread of booted steps behind me. “Someone want to fill me in? Why did we just insult the men we’re trying to do business with?”

Vegas. I shivered. He sounded pissed, and it did not convince me he wouldn’t toss me out the moment he found out what was going on. Houston seemed to think otherwise, but how much of my interactions with Vegas had been an act on his part? Maybe he really did dislike me.

“Get those assholes out of here,” Houston said. “Did you not hear what he implied?”

Vegas sighs and leaned against the wall. “Fuck. I’d hoped I was wrong.”

“If you insist on doing business with that man, the entire club will turn on you,” Houston warned. “Once they hear what happened to Ginger, they won’t allow you to do business with those people.”

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