I couldn’t realize how bad it was until I left that place and gained some perspective.
A week ago, I squirmed with pleasure under James’ body.
He had me for a hefty price, and in the end, it cost him less than what I had to pay to be with him.
Four days ago, three men made love to me like no one else had done it before.
James had my heart, and all of them claimed my body.
He let them do it… And I let them do it too.
Why?
My elbows slide onto the table as I bury my face in my hands, my eyes blurry with tears.
What life lesson do I need to learn from all of this? What kernel of wisdom am I supposed to absorb?
Is this what those women must’ve felt after spending some time with them at the now-infamous Dark House?
Is this why they couldn’t go back to their old lives? To their boyfriends? And their husbands?
Raising my eyes, I slowly shake my head, a sad chuckle falling from my lips.
How fucked up is this?
They took away my power and left me empty. How come I didn’t know it would feel like this?
A muted sound pulls me out of my head, prompting me to tip my gaze to my phone.
I watch it vibrate against the table before I pick it up and read the message.
It’s a bank notification.
I slide my finger over the screen, pull up the app, enter my passcode, and read the text message.
A quarter of a million dollars––my fee––has been transferred to my account.
He paid me.
Grappling with disbelief, I do a double-take, trying to make sense of all this.
A bitter chuckle rolls off my lips, and I suddenly feel cold and hollow, angered to the core.
The nerve he has.
I toss the phone on the table and push out of my chair, growling with frustration, unable to keep my fury under control.
Pacing back and forth, I’m trying to calm down without success. I should go out and keep myself busy instead of thinking about him and his friends.
I pivot to the table, scoop up my phone, and call Eve.
She answers right away.
“Rain?” she murmurs, surprised.
“Hey.”
“Oh, my God. I can’t believe you called me,” she says, her voice beaming with disbelief.