Page 83 of Ruthless Beast

Damon is standing over me. I didn’t hear him entering the room. I leap to my feet.

“What?” I stammer, still half asleep.

I’m feeling weak and shaky, as I haven’t eaten much in three days. I wish I could push my way past him, but I'm too wobbly on my feet.

“Put this on,” he says, handing me a set of clothes.

I unfold the items.

“This is completely inappropriate. I’m not wearing this. I’ll look like a slut.”

“Youwillwear it, or I’ll rip off what you’re wearing and dress you myself.”

“Asshole,” I mumble under my breath. “Can I have some privacy, please?”

“No.”

“Can you at least turn around?”

“Just get on with it. We don’t have all day.”

I’m spitting mad, but something warns me not to push it with Damon. He’s not the sweet guy I thought he was.

I change, staring defiantly at him.

“Did you enjoy that?” I snipe.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Come on. Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“You have a job interview.”

“What? Looking like this!”

“Yeah.”

“Damon, please. Take me back right now, and I’ll tell Lucas I ran away. He never has to know that you took me. I swear. Come on. I thought you and I were friends.”

“A guy like me could never be friends with someone like you, Emily. Don't be naive.”

“What would your mother say if she knew what you were doing to me? You’re such a good son. Why don’t you think about this?”

“My mother was a bitch, and she’s dead.”

“So, was everything you told me a lie?”

“Shut up and get in the car.”

Damon opens the door and shoves me into the passenger seat. I don’t know where he plans on taking me, but it can’t be good. Whatever I may have thought about this man is now in tatters. He isnoton my side.

There’s no point in talking to this asshole. He clearly has no intention of answering my questions. We drive into the city center, where he stops outside a dodgy looking club. My stomach is in a knot. The gravity of the situation I'm in is slowly dawning on me. We’re parked outside of what looks to be a strip club, and I'm dressed like a tart. It doesn’t take a genius to work this one out.

“No. Please, Damon. I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

He grabs my arm, and frog marches me to the front door.

---