Page 4 of Little Bird (Advantage Play 3)

Images of each of them flash through my mind before stopping on Little Bird huddled in the corner. With a subtle shake of my head, I scatter the memories and reply, “As good as can be expected. Some of them are a little bruised, though. Aren’t you supposed to be a bit more careful with the merchandise?” I can’t help the bite that accompanies my question, followed by a dull headache in the back of my skull.

I need a fucking vacation.

“Meh.” He shrugs, seeming amused, yet indifferent. “We got a lot of exotic fruit this time around, though; am I right? I mean, did you get a look at the passion fruit?” With his fingers pressed to his lips, he kisses them dramatically like a good ol’ Italian appreciating a fine wine.

Passion fruit is a code word for attractive, and he’s not wrong. There were multiple girls in Sei’s last run that were gorgeous, including my Little Bird.

“Yeah. I’ve seen the passion fruit,” I grumble. “The problem is keeping those types of fruit ripe and unspoiled when every one of our guys is banging on their doors for a taste. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Cutting his gaze to mine, he lets out a slow puff of smoke from his lungs, and I hold his stare with ease.

“I’ve been given one job, Sei. And it’s to keep the fruit in good condition until they’re transported. Stop sending your men to fuck with them.”

“Fuck them, Dex,” he corrects me with a grin. “I’m not sending them to fuck with them. I’m sending them to fuck them in general.”

“And I’m telling you it’s a bad idea. Burlone wants to make sure they’re not all spoiled within a week—”

“Fuck you, Dex. I can do whatever the hell I—”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen,” Burlone admonishes us from the hall. I hear his footsteps echo around the office as he steps across the threshold and walks to his chair behind his desk. “Is there a problem here?”

With gritted teeth, I tear my gaze from Sei and turn to Burlone. “You gave me one job, Burlone. One job. Sei and his men are trying to taste the fruit you adamantly told me couldn’t be touched. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

Burlone sighs with his thumb and forefinger on either side of the bridge of his nose. “Sei, touch whoever the hell you want. Just leave the passion fruit alone. By some miracle, they’re both virgins, and I want them to stay pretty for a little while longer. Understand?”

A seething Sei opens his mouth to argue before snapping it closed in fury. We both know it won’t do him any good.

“Now, let’s get back to business, shall we?” Burlone states.

Sei’s nod is jerky, almost robotic before he rummages through his pockets and pulls out another cigarette. Once it’s lit, Burlone continues, “Dex, how are the fruit doing? Any issues?”

“Do we have any clothes for them? If they’re not going to be sampled then—”

“Now you think they need clothes? They’re whores, Dex. Get it through your fucking skull!” Sei shouts.

Burlone lifts his hand, immediately silencing Sei before addressing me. “Sei’s right, Dex. You need to stop looking at them like human beings. Hell, I was generous to leave them with their underwear. Look at them like fruit in the grocery store. Some are a little more round. Some have a few bruises but still promise a sweet flavor. Some have been dropped on the floor too many times and are rotten on the inside. But all of them are fruit, and none of them need clothes. Understand?”

My heart is pounding against my ribcage as both sets of eyes turn to me. With my hands clenched at my sides, begging for a fight, I barely restrain myself from shredding both of the sick assholes in front of me. It takes every ounce of discipline I possess to unfurl my fingers and grit out, “Yeah. I understand.”

“Excellent. We have a photoshoot for them next week. Make sure they’re presentable and not so damaged that it affects their likelihood of being sold. Now, Sei, how’s our little friend doing?”

“Kingston?” Sei sits forward and rests his elbows on his knees with a satisfied gleam in his eye.

“Yeah.”

“He’s good. And by good, I mean miserable. Sent one of his goons with the girl to get her shit from her apartment. I’m going to assume they’ll be shacking up from now on so he can keep an eye on her. Saw them talking to the homeless guy in the parking lot. Handed him a business card in case he sees anything fishy happening around her place.”

“Good. Anything else?” Burlone prods.

“Nope. I think that’s about it.”

“Then you’re dismissed.” I’m out the door within seconds, stalking toward my room like it’s my own sanctuary. One where I won’t be able to hear the women screaming as they’re taken over and over again.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I turn in the opposite direction and head to the gift shop. Burlone might’ve said no clothes, but he didn’t mention blankets.

Chapter Five

Little Bird

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