Page 8 of Little Bird (Advantage Play 3)

“Hi.” I smile awkwardly, and Dex’s brows furrow. “How are you today?” I continue, trying to make small talk. The casual greeting feels foreign and…strange. Especially for our situation.

With a dry laugh, a confused Dex cocks his head. “What’s your angle? Why are you acting weird?”

I guess I shouldn’t be shocked that he’s calling me out like this. Subtlety has never really been my strong suit. Apparently, it isn’t his, either.

Taking a deep breath, I begin the monologue I’ve been practicing since we last spoke. “Okay, so here’s the thing. From our last conversation, I learned that I’m not going to be set free. It sucks, but I appreciated you being straight with me. I also learned that if you’re around, then I should be somewhat safe. For now, anyway. I guess my first question is, what about the other women I met the first night I came? The ones who were in Burlone’s office? Are you supposed to keep them safe too? Or are you only really watching me because I turned out to be a virgin? I assume you make more money from girls who are…you know,” I hedge. “Innocent.” My nose wrinkles in disgust before I press forward. “That’s what the doctor was checking for, wasn’t it? When he examined all the girls after we were asked to strip down to our underwear?” I shudder at the memory of the doctor touching me when I was first brought here but push it away and wait to hear Dex’s response. Now isn’t the time for a walk down memory lane. I need answers, and I need them sooner rather than later if I have any chance of surviving this screwed up situation.

Dex blinks slowly but doesn’t confirm or deny my suspicion that he knows more than he’s letting on, so I press forward. “Okay then…I guess we’ll save that specific topic for a different day. I also made a decision about you during our last conversation.”

“And what’s that?” he asks, attempting to hide his interest with a bored tone.

“I think you seem like a relatively good guy, despite your current occupation choice, which is why I want to ask you something else. You didn’t answer me the first time, and I think it’s because you were afraid I’d have a breakdown if you told me the truth. But I think that’s what’s been driving me crazy. The unknown. So, here it goes.” I take a deep breath. “What’s going to happen to me, Dex? I’m going to assume your boss is biding his time until he figures out what to do with me. Am I right? Has he made any final decisions about my future? I want to know what the possibilities are. I want to mentally prep for any of the possible outcomes that I’m going to have to deal with. Do you think you can help me do that?”

His shoulders deflate right before my eyes, and it doesn’t exactly give me warm and fuzzies.

“Tell me,” I push, a fresh wave of anxiety pulsing through me. My hands toy with the long white sleeves of the shirt Dex gave me the first night I showed up here. I fist the fabric and pray he’ll give me some insight that I desperately need. “Please.”

“Little Bird, you seem like you’re in a pretty good mood, all things considered, and I really don’t want to mess with your day.”

“And I get that,” I admit before crossing my arms to hide how badly I’m shaking. “But what I think you don’t understand is that the not knowing is what’s driving me insane. If you could just fill me in, then I think I’ll be better. I’ll be mentally prepared. It’ll help me,” I reiterate.

“Trust me, Little Bird. I don’t think you can mentally prepare for what you’re probably going to go through.” His face sours as if he doesn’t want to think about it, either.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, feeling a sense of hesitation for the first time since our last conversation.

“It means that you’ve been dealt a shit hand. That’s what it means.”

“Yeah, but knowing your hand is better than betting blindly, right?” I counter.

With a narrowed gaze, a grudging Dex hesitantly agrees with my logic. “I suppose.”

“Then tell me. Please?” He’s close to caving. I can see it in his eyes.

After a few long seconds, he mutters, “Honestly?”

I smile. “Yeah. I think it’d be best if we were honest right about now.”

For once, I’m not hunched in my corner. I’m standing, stretching my long legs, and realizing how tall Dex really is. When I look him up and down, I notice he’s built like a freaking bear. All muscles and tattoos and dark, short hair. Even a blind woman would be able to feel the sexual pheromones he exudes when he’s in the room. I just can’t understand why he’s in this business when it’s easy to see that he could have any woman he wants. But I push those thoughts aside. I don’t have time to question his motives. Not when I’m so close to getting the answers I desperately need.

Dex clears his throat then takes a tentative step closer. “You’re either going to be purchased by a stranger and used as a maid or sex slave, or you’ll be used as a buy-in chip for a poker tournament my boss is putting on.”

My brows furrow, but I’m more confused than scared. “Huh?”

He laughs, staring at me. “Who are you, and what have you done to the terrified little girl from a few nights ago?”

I join in with a soft giggle, shocking the crap out of both of us. The sound is so foreign to my ears that I take a second to look around and see if the old me is in the room. Nope. Just tainted ol’ me.

“She’s still in here,” I admit quietly. “But last night helped me gain a little perspective. I think if there’s any chance of me surviving this, then I need to have the full picture. And I think you can explain it to me. Now, can you please explain to me what the buy-in means?”

With a sigh, Dex takes a seat on the edge of the bed, and I force myself to join him, though my movements are jerky and robotic. But if I’m wanting him to talk to me and tell me what he knows, then I need to show him I don’t think he’s as much of a monster as the rest of them. Sensing my hesitation, he leans away from me and leaves a few inches of space between our legs to keep our thighs from touching. I appreciate the sentiment. It further proves my theory. That he doesn’t want to use me like the men on the opposite side of that door. My eyes shoot to it before I force my attention back to the bear beside me.

Dex starts, “In order to enter the tournament, you need to put a woman on the line. If you win, you get to keep yours, along with collecting everyone else’s who participates in the tournament. If you lose, then you lose the girl you brought, along with any money you gambled away during the night.”

“I–I’m sorry,” I stutter, convinced I’ve heard him wrong. “Is it common for people to have women lying around that they can use for a poker tournament?”

He snorts at my half-joke then answers, “Not always. If you don’t, then you can purchase one before the event.”

“And where would you purchase one?”

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