Page 31 of Ginger

It looked like I’d have to told them even more of my ugly past than I already had. I only hoped Bronx and Reno would still want to stand beside me afterwards. They were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was terrified I’d lose them.

Chapter Twelve

Ginger

I stared at Vegas across the top of his desk. Why had those men shown up today? Why couldn’t my past stay just that — in the past? All I’d wanted was a fresh start, a new life without pain and suffering. I was starting to wonder if it would have been better if I’d never left. At least then, I wouldn’t have known how good life could be.

“Who the fuck is Mr. Rayburn?” Vegas demanded.

“Someone from my past.”

He narrrowed his eyes. “I already figured that much out. Don’t be obtuse and tell me who the fuck he is. You know exactly what I’m asking.”

Right. I did know, but… what if I told him and he threw me out? What if he decided I couldn’t be with Bronx and Reno anymore? Or worse, my men could change their minds. What if I was too much trouble for them to keep in their lives?

“Ginger.” Vegas’ voice was deceptively soft as he called my name. I focused on him again, trying to shake off the doubts and fear.

“I told you about my past already. About what men did to me. There’s more. My uncle thought of me as a cash cow, and the highest bidder was Mr. Rayburn. He’d offered to buy me.”

I heard Bronx growl behind me. Reno's hand came down on my shoulder, a reassuring weight that somehow felt like an anchor in a storm threatening to pull me under. I let out a shaky breath and forced myself to meet Vegas' gaze.

"He saw me at a party when I was sixteen. I was serving drinks, and he... noticed me." The words tasted like ash in my mouth. "He told my uncle he wanted to buy me. Like I was property."

Vegas' expression didn't change, but I could see the muscle in his jaw working. "And your uncle?"

"Negotiated a price." My voice came out hollow. "Three hundred thousand dollars. That was what I was worth to him."

"Jesus Christ," Bronx muttered, his fingers tightening on my waist.

"Did the sale go through?" Vegas asked, his voice clinically detached. I knew it was his way of processing—the businessman calculating variables—but it still made me flinch.

"No. I ran before it could happen. That's when I ended up on the streets." I swallowed hard. "I thought I'd gotten away. My uncle caught up to me. Let his men punish me. I hadn’t heard anything about Mr. Rayburn since then, so I thought he’d lost interest."

"Clearly, he hasn't," Vegas said. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "These men today—they work for him?"

I nodded. "They were his security detail. I recognized two of them."

Reno moved around to face me, crouching down to look me in the eyes. "Why didn't you tell us about this before, sweetheart?"

The tenderness in his voice nearly broke me. "Because I really did think it was all in the past. It never occured to me he’d see me and decide I still belonged to him. As far as I know, my uncle never received the money but if he did..."

"Then he’ll come for you. But we won’t let that happen. You aren’t alone," Bronx said firmly. "You have us now."

I wanted to believe him. God, how I wanted to. But I'd learned early on that wanting something didn't make it real.

"You don't understand," I whispered. "Rayburn doesn't just want me. He wants to own me. And he doesn't like losing what he considers his property. I’ll be little more than a pet or slave."

Vegas stood up, circling his desk until he was directly in front of me. "Listen to me very carefully, Ginger. You are not property. You are not for sale. And anyone who thinks otherwise is going to have a very serious problem with me."

“Well, technically, she belongs to me and Bronx,” Reno said, giving me a wink. “But otherwise, you’re right.”

His words should have comforted me, but they only intensified my fear. "I can't let you all get caught up in this. These people—"

"Are exactly the kind of people we deal with every day," Vegas interrupted. "The difference is, they fucked with someone we care about."

I stared at him, searching his face for any sign that he was just said what he thought I needed to hear. All I found was cold, hard certainty. I never knew what to think of him. Sometimes, he came across as an unfeeling monster. But then he had moments like this one.

"No one is taking you anywhere," Reno promised, taking my hand in his.

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