Page 3 of Ravaged
“We both know that’s not true.” He lifted his closed fist, the gold chain hanging out of his hand. “You deserve better.”
I walked him to the door, and he ambled forth, a slight limp to his gait, then he turned around and squeezed my shoulder.
“See you soon, Tea.”
The door swung shut behind him. Iris was leaning on the doorframe to the kitchen. The platform boots were off now, so she was a foot shorter than before. It was part of her persona in the club, but in the Greenhouse, she didn’t need to be taller. Everyone called her Mama Bear no matter how tall or short she was. Especially me, her best friend.
“How much did he need this time?” she asked.
“Five thousand,” I said.
Iris whistled. “Did you give it to him?” I nodded. “I don’t get it. Family seems so damn complicated. He sells you to pay his debt, and somehow, he still needs money. From you.” She groaned. “Shouldn’t you be the one asking him for money?
I shrugged. Iris didn’t understand because she had never felt a connection with her biological parents, and her foster parents hadn’t been much better.
“He has no one else,” I said.
“So what? He dug his own grave.”
“He needs me.”
She rolled her eyes. “He needs your wallet.”
On most days, especially when I hadn’t seen my dad in a while, I agreed with Iris. I had always been a commodity to him, a show pony to brag about, his talented daughter who could play any instrument, the young woman he could sell into sex slavery. But this time, I couldn’t bring myself to think those thoughts. In the end, it was just us, just Dad and me. We were the only family we had left, and family always came first. And there had been something different this time, that deep regret lingering in his voice. What had happened? What had changed?
I might never know, but I wouldn’t let myself think those horrible thoughts about him. Not right then, anyway.
“One day, I’m going to save enough so that we can have a normal life,” I said, staring at the only other art on the wall, a painting one of the past servers had created: a desolate ocean, vaster than my heart felt. If I could do that for him, if I could give my dad a peaceful life, then maybe he wouldn’t have to gamble anymore. He wouldn’t need it.
“He doesn’t deserve shit.”
I shrugged. “It’ll be good for him.”
“You are fucking nuts.”
We headed down the hallway of the Greenhouse back to the main floor of the club. We opened the door, peering out together. The same group of businessmen was in the corner of the lounge now. But the club member I had been entertaining before was walking towards the entrance to the private rooms, his arm linked with a thick blond, Kendall. The same server who had poked her head into the kitchen when I was cooking for Dad. The man’s bald head shined as they walked under the lights towards the Terrariums.
“She stole him right out from under you,” Iris said.
I didn’t mind. Really.
“He smelled like a double beef patty,” I said. “Zoo-style.”
Iris cackled. “Gross!”
We watched the two of them disappear behind the black door. “But he was nice,” I offered. “I think he’ll tip her well.”
“Good for Kendall,” Iris said.
“Yeah. Good for her.”
I went to rub my harp necklace but placed a hand on my bare chest instead. Iris motioned back inside. “We can finish getting ready together, then.”
I followed her back to her room and let out a happy sigh. Impact play equipment hung on her walls. She was the only server who specialized in topping the club members. The rest of us preferred bottoming.
“I thought you were meeting with the new club owner?” I asked.
She plopped onto the ottoman and picked up a pencil of black eyeliner. “Little bitch chickened out.”
I raised a brow. “Little bitch?”
She gave a side-smile. “Well, Dahlia had to cancel because of some emergency meeting with the Adlers.”
“The Adlers, huh?” I asked. The Dahlia District was outwardly an elite and private entertainment club for billionaires, but it was a cover for a lot of criminal activity, including the sex trafficking of the servers, like us. But with a high monthly payment, the Adlers made sure that we, the servers—Dahlia’s main asset—never ran away, and that we were protected from abusers and the police. The Adlers were a crime family that had taken hold of Sage City decades ago, but they still protected us here, in the forgotten neighboring town of Cresting Heights.
“Do you think the Adlers are upset about the new owner?” I asked.
“Don’t know. She didn’t tell me anything.” Iris shook her head. “Maybe that’s what it’s about. But I don’t know. She was acting all weird about it. More evasive than usual. It’s probably something else.” She shrugged. “I’ll get it out of her eventually.”
What could they possibly want? I grabbed my curler from Iris’s dresser and started touching up my waves. It was hard to imagine what a crime family might want, especially when it came to a place like the Dahlia District. Anything was possible.
