Page 20 of Sold Blood
He pushes me back into a different room full of men fucking. Some are enjoying themselves while others can no longer be recognized as people, all drugged up and lying still like pieces of furniture.
"Go kneel in the corner and lock one of your wrists in one of the cuffs. Remember you don't eat if you don't bring us in the right amount of money tonight. Everyone earns their place around here."
I do as he says, burying my strong will deep down inside me and resisting the urge to fight back. I have to keep playing my cards right until they transfer us again and remove my cuffs with fewer people around. Being locked in this small room surrounded by men carrying guns offers me no leverage. I'd be dead before I reached the door.
I huddle in the corner, keeping my gaze on each man entering the room. One man stands out more than the rest with his hard gaze, stiff shoulders, and focused eyes. He glances around the room in a different way from the others. He looks more like a man on a mission than someone shopping for his next plaything.
The others walk in wearing relaxed expressions as if they're finally getting a chance to prop their feet up in front of the television for the night. This is all this is for them. A way to unwind and fulfill some sick fantasy before returning back to their partners and family. A lot of them were men you’d see daily on their way to work or on their phone in the line at a grocery store.
My stomach shifts when I take notice of a man choking someone nearby while getting his rocks off. He doesn’t care if the other man struggled to breathe and is turning a shade of blue. He isn't doing it for anyone else's pleasure, but his own. It doesn’t matter what they do to us or even if they kill us as long as they pay the right amount of money. That's what all this is about.The lengths people would go to in order to make a quick buck has always left a bad taste in my mouth.
No, I am not a good person. What I do for a living might have taken lives, but usually those people choose their own fate. They purchase the drugs and willingly put it into their own bodies. In a way I didn't choose what I did for a living, it had chosen me.
The cartel life was ingrained in me ever since I was a small child being taught how to tell the difference between cheap and high quality products. I was never one for human sales, trafficking young kids and treating them worse than most dogs by slowly draining them of life.
These guys didn't choose to be here. They probably spent their free time playing Nintendo DS and going to the movies with friends, never realizing what had waited for them outside the safety of their homes. I've been preparing for moments like this my whole life. They haven't.
More men walk into the room as others exit before even fully fixing their clothing. These men have no shame with the satisfied smiles on their faces and their heads held high as if they were some kind of gods. The power trip these men get from being in places like this and having their way, forcing men into submission didn't cure their hunger, it increased it. All it did was feed the monster living inside.
Each time they came here, their inner monster took over more and a few days a month here turned into a few days a week. Eventually, it wouldn't be enough to keep it satisfied. They would unleash their inner darkness on the people closest to them. I've seen it happen many times before.
All the new men had already found their toy, either for the night or the next hour. All except one. The man who had caught my eye earlier. The one who didn't look like he belonged. He sat up straight in a chair in a secluded corner, drinking a glass ofexpensive whiskey while observing his surroundings. It doesn't take long for his gaze to be back on me.
The man with the scar on his face starts toward the handsome stranger with his hands crossed in front of his body. It's hard to make out his words over the loud music and all the moaning. The more I stare into the stranger’s eyes, the more familiar they become. I've been lost in these eyes before or maybe my delusions are starting to get the best of me. I've been here for too long, and reality is starting to get away from me.
I close my eyes and open them again to see the man pointing at me. The man with the scar nods with a smug expression. He hands the man something that shines under the dim ceiling lights. The closer the man gets to me, the more apparent the item in his hand becomes. It's a key. "Hello there, no need to be frightened. I plan on taking good care of you tonight. I've booked a private room so we can have a night alone together. Looks like you're mine all mine until morning and I hope you make the cost worth it," he says, glancing between me and the man with the scar.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll have a real good time with this one. Just be careful, he's a sneaky little shit and likes to occasionally put up a fight. Sure does keep us on our toes."
"I've always been a fan of the feisty ones and I don't think you'll have to worry about us. I'm happy to take this one off your hands for the night. I have a feeling he will be just what I need." The handsome stranger smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. This may not even be noticeable to the average person, but I've always been an excellent people reader. It’s a useful skill to have in the business I'm in—or was in.
He grazes my cheek with the bed of his thumb, trailing it down my neck. It should make me want to crawl out of my skin the way the others did, but instead sparks dance along my skin and I have to bite back a moan when his lips hover over my ear andhis warm breath heats my skin. "It will all be okay soon," he whispers in my ear. "You're safe with me, Little Roo."
My eyes widen at that name and the gleam in his eyes tells me he can see the recognition. This guy isn't a stranger. He didn't pick me at random. He knows me and a tug at my chest tells me I know him too.
He stands up, straightening his suit. "Have him cleaned and delivered to the room I reserved in fifteen minutes."
"He's already clean," the man with the scar says.
The handsome man shakes his head. "I'm not talking with a few napkins and bathroom soap. I want him properly cleaned and I want two orders of wings sent to my room. Or I could always take my business elsewhere."
The man with the scar swallows hard. "That won't be necessary, sir. We will have everything taken care of for you just the way you want it. The customer's needs are always top priority here."
"They should be with these prices. I have a feeling this one will be worth every cent. I might want him again tomorrow t."
"That won't be a problem. I'll make sure you have everything you need for the night. It will be almost like you're staying at the Hilton, but with better entertainment." The man with the scar winks before bending down to uncuff me from the post. "Don't try anything funny. You remember what happened to your little friend, don't you? Let's not let history repeat itself so soon." He grabs me by my hair, forcing me to my feet. I nearly trip over my own feet when he shoves me forward. "Move, we don't have any time to waste."
I don't stare back at the stranger and keep focused on the large red door instead. I can feel the man's eyes on me, burning a hole through my skin. The man with the scar shoves me again and we walk down the long dark hallway, moving further away from the loud room, passing a few others along the way.
We get on an elevator and I watch the numbers move until the doors ding, letting us know we have reached our floor. "Come on, stupid boy. Keep going. You should be lucky you are being brought up here for the night. Not many whores get this opportunity. If I were you, I'd enjoy it while it lasts."
The air in the private room is much cooler than the last one we were in. It isn't overcrowded with heated bodies and roaming bright lights. There's a large bed covered in fancy white bedding that probably costs more than a night with me. He digs his gun into the back of my neck. "Get in the shower and clean yourself. The buyer bought something special for you and laid it out on the bed. You'll put it on once you're dry."
He pulls something from his pocket that resembles some type of bracelet and kneels to the ground to slide it over my ankle. "Don't worry, it's waterproof and it will only go off if I press the magic button." He fastens it snugly around my ankle, and pulls out a remote, hitting a few buttons until the bracelet lights up. My eyes grow wide. "What did you put on me?"
"Relax, it's only temporary. I don't need you messing up a transaction for us. This man has a lot of money and if you satisfy him enough tonight maybe he will keep giving us more of it. Behave yourself tonight and you won't have to know what it's like to explode into a million pieces."
He slides the remote in his pocket, pointing to the bathroom. "I'll be out here waiting for you. Don't take too long. We only have minutes now."
