Page 30 of Pushed

Standing beside her, I stroked my jaw and tried to calm myself down. She didn't know what this world was, she was pushed into it. . .By me.

If she only knew what was buried in my past, what drove me into a place like this. . .

What keeps me here.

I was just as bad as all the other men in this room, I wouldn't deny that. The things I had done to get there, the women I had traded just to put my name on a pedestal, to get me noticed by the man in charge.

I had one mission, one single goal in mind, but it never involved bringing in someone who was truly innocent.

Imperial was unaware of what she had stumbled upon, she didn't get to hear the speech I would give the other girls to get them to come willingly. She had fallen into the rabbit hole, and there was no way out,except me.

'Not everything is smoke and mirrors, Machi. Maybe sometimes, things are exactly what you think they are.'Her voice played in my head, reminding me how much hate I had for this place.

Girls came and went, some stayed by proxy, some went home with high bidders and their heavy hand, others. . . Others never made it out at all.

That part tore at me the most, it made it harder and harder each time for me to turn my head and keep up this charade. 

But the show hadn't even begun yet, I hadn't even started. Everything I had done was just to get in, and I couldn't get out until it was finished, until I finally delivered what Sylvan had coming.

She doesn't belong here.

I'm the only one that can keep her safe.

Imperial was staring down at her knees, her fingers wildly tangled with each other in her lap. She didn't move, she didn't roll her head or shift her waist, she just stayed completely still.

Taking the seat beside her, I rested my forehead in my hands. “I'm not angry with you, I can't be. It's not your fault you don't understand yet.”

Her leg wiggled as she tucked her fingers between her thighs. But she didn't dare lift her face to mine.

“I just need you to trust me, you have to trust me.” Dropping my hand, I grabbed her forearm and lifted it up, braiding our fingers together.

She still wouldn't look up at me, but I could see her eyes. The soft glow of light over us made her eyes glisten as tears sat on the surface. She wasn't blinking, her gaze was wide and empty, holding the tears in place like glass shields.

I could feel her muscles quivering and her hand shaking as I held it tight. I wanted to console her, I wanted to place her head in my lap and brush my fingers through her silky sun-colored hair.

None of this was her fault. If she hadn't been there that night, she wouldn't have ended up in here with me. I almost let her go, I almost told her to just run. . . But they came back, Fior and Z showed up sooner than I expected.

It was too late.

If I had more time—even five more fucking minutes, she would have been on her way home. Only that's not what happened.

Rubbing the back of her hand, I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. “From here on out, don't question what I tell you to do. I'm not trying to be a dick, I'm trying to give you what you want.”

Her hair swept over her cheek, covering her face and blocking me from seeing her. I didn't like it, I didn't want the soft profile of her jaw or the pouty lips that dressed her face to be hidden from view.

There was a tenderness in my heart that beat for her, a glimmer of weakness for this poor girl that ended up in my hands. She had crossed into a battleground, unaware of the war that was taking place.

She wasn't meant for any of this. Imperial didn't come from the streets or have a thirst for the needle. Her mind wasn't charred and corrupted by the transfer of hands and sex for a hit from the pipe.

Imperial was just a girl, a normal girl.

She can handle it, she's strong.

I can feel it, I can feel what she has inside.

All the others I brought through those doors were teased and tempted by the devil's playground. I tempted them with money, with a roof over their head and all the niceties that came with it. And they agreed to it, allowing this world to have them.

Women of the streets were spit on, they were used and abused as if they didn't deserve to breathe in the first place. Not one of my girls ever appeared on the news because the world just didn't care enough about the lost soul who chose drugs over a working class career or having a family.

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