Page 47 of Jagger
"I said as long as I could watch them fuck, I'd be nicer to her." I drop my head into my hands, shame filling my cheeks with crimson.
Wolfe snorts with laughter, his shoulders shaking.
Aphrodite throws him another scathing look before nodding at me. "What guy?"
It's the moment of truth. Does she know who this fucker is? How much does she know?
"Lawson Veng."
She frowns.
"Her ex? You texted her ex?!"
I shake my head and stare at Aphrodite with annoyance. "No, he's not her fucking ex. He's herpimp."
Aphrodite inhales sharply, her hand moving to her throat as she whispers, "You're lying. You're so full of shit?—"
"I'm not," I snap. "He's her fucking pimp. Believe me."
Aphrodite stares past me, her eyes glazing over. "Molly isn't a hooker! This is some bullshit, Jagger."
Kaden reaches out to touch her arm, and she looks at him with surprise. "Jagger, just spit it out. Whatever it is."
"Lawson took her. Your best friend has been keeping secrets from you, Aph." I pull my phone from my pocket and bring up the message from Lawson. "Lawson asked for eight million for me to get her back."
Aphrodite pales. "What?"
"Why is he askingyoufor it?" Kaden frowns, and I can't say it. I can't say what I've done. Not because they'll judge me—I don't care what they think—but they may not help me. I can't do this alone.
"Just because," I growl, refusing to look at Aphrodite or Kaden. "But he's not screwing around. He's hurt her already." I stare at the frozen image of Molly trying to say my name, and my heart shatters over and over. How many times can it do that before it breaks forever?
I feel Wolfe's eyes on me, and I know he'd understand if anyone, but I just need to get Molly back. That's my focus.
"Pay him," Aphrodite says without hesitation. "I'll wire you the money if you need it, even though it sounds like it's your fucking fault she was taken by this psycho."
"I've paid him," I reply with a shrug, and the others stare at me with raised brows and perplexed expressions. "We need to go and get her. That's where I need your help."
25
MOLLY
Lawson is going to die. Yes, I’m chained up by my throat, wrists, and ankles, but I vow that he’s going to die.
Today.
I’ve managed to block out the sound of the crying from the women around me, focusing instead on my breathing, making sure every breath is as level as the last, counting in for six, out for six. Nice and slow. Controlling my breathing is helping me focus. I know Lawson will be back any minute now—I keep hearing his footsteps nearing the door to the room he’s keeping us in like fucking cattle. Something is distracting him, and I can’t help but wonder what it is. I wish I’d spent my freedom more valuably. Learning how to pick locks and shit. I don’t have a paperclip or a hair pin like they do in the movies. Footsteps are near once more, and one of the girls starts crying when the door swings open, revealing Lawson laughing at whoever is behind him.
“She’s the original. The best if you want my honest opinion. She’s not a virgin, though. Is that going to be a problem?”
The original?Now I know he’s talking about me.
Breathe in for six. Out for six.
Concentrate on your breathing, not these fuckers.If I’m going to be raped again, then at least he’ll have to unlock these fucking chains. They don’t do it in here, oh no. Punters get real luxury—I know how Lawson operates.
Silk sheets. Candles.
I’d vomit, but there’s nothing left in my stomach. Hasn’t been for a long time.
