Page 12 of Little Bird (Advantage Play 3)

“Burlone will kill you if you damage any of the fruit, Sei. I shouldn’t have to remind you of that.”

“And I shouldn’t have to remind you that they’re fruit in the first place, now should I?” he counters darkly.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“You sure about that?”

Dex doesn’t deem his question worthy of a response, so Sei takes full advantage of his partner’s hesitation by turning his attention back to me. The fruit.

Slowly, Sei drags his fingers down my spine, starting at the back of my neck. The movement isn’t fast. But it’s deliberate. And I know the way he paused at the hook of my bra was a silent warning too. A promise. My knees nearly buckle, but I keep my chin up and focus on a discolored cinder block in the corner of the room. It takes everything inside of me to pretend Sei isn’t here and that his ghost of a touch doesn’t exist.

“She’s strong too,” Sei notes. “Don’t you think, Dex?”

“I guess. Pity it goes against Burlone’s orders to touch her, though,” Dex reminds him. From the corner of my eye, I see Dex shrug then return his attention to his phone. I think he’s trying a different tactic, but I can’t be sure. The indifference is back even though Sei’s presence had originally sparked the old Dex to shine through for a few minutes, and I already miss him.

“I can be gentle,” Sei argues like a little boy petting his new puppy for the first time.

With a scoff, an amused Dex replies, “No, you can’t. I’ve seen the women when you’re finished with them, and I think Burlone will notice the difference.”

“God, you’re right.” Sei leans forward, smelling my hair before almost moaning. “But she’s a virgin. Did you hear that? A fucking virgin. Do you know what I would do to taste her? To mark her?”

The way he talks––as if I’m not a foot in front of him––is eerie. Like I’m literally an object to him. Without thoughts or feelings. Unable to voice my opinion or my objection.

Suddenly, I realize something that I never in a million years thought would happen. I’m grateful to Burlone for something. I’m grateful he told his men I can’t be touched. That he placed me under Dex’s protection. Because without either of these things, I’d have been broken within an hour. I can see that by the wicked gleam in Sei’s eyes as he looks at me, making my skin crawl.

“So, are we going to get the pictures taken care of, Sei? I got shit to do.” Dex sounds as bored as ever, snapping me from my thoughts and pulling my attention from that same discolored cinder block I had found so fascinating moments before. Now, I understand what Dex had meant. Getting my picture taken doesn’t seem so innocent anymore.

With a sigh, Sei ends his touch near the hem of my underwear then tugs on the ends of my greasy hair as it grazes my lower back before walking toward the camera and turning it on.

“Smile for the camera, baby,” Sei calls. Looking through the lens, he snaps a picture where I’m sure I look more like a deer in the headlights than a human being.

Which is probably exactly what he was going for.

Chapter Ten

Little Bird

“What the hell are you doing here, Sei?” a man calls from the doorway as he assesses the room.

“Just helping get the pictures taken. That’s all.” Sei raises his palms into the air and steps away from the camera.

“Well, I think I can take it from here,” the stranger announces.

With a nod, Sei exits the room but not before looking me up and down one last time, leaving me alone with Dex and the…photographer?

“I’m Frank. Nice to meet you.” He offers his hand, acting the polar opposite from the asshole who just left, which only amplifies the warning bells going off in my head. At least Sei owned up to being a sick and twisted bastard. This guy seems more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Then again, I’d assumed Dex was the same way. Maybe my danger radar is broken. My attention shoots to Dex. Yup. It’s definitely broken.

Still, instead of taking Frank’s hand, I eye it warily as if it’s a deadly viper waiting to strike. My lack of response only seems to amuse him.

“I’m not here to touch you,” he explains. “I’m here to make you look beautiful. Men spend more money on girls who look pretty for their pictures rather than ones who already look like death. Understand?”

A lump the size of Texas is lodged in my throat, so I don’t bother answering. Already look like death, as if it’s inevitable.

“Understand?” he pushes, losing a bit of his friendly facade.

I give him a jerky nod.

“Perfect.”

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