Page 34 of Worth

“I know what you’re thinking,” Harvey says, a little laugh escaping him. “That these boys tricked you somehow, and now you’re back in a Skin Center.”

That thought hadn’t crossed my mind, actually. But now that he mentions it...

“You have no reason to worry,” he continues quickly, taking in what must be absolute panic on my face. “Zander and Aiden run a tight, clean operation. We’re given a clean place to live and get to keep a portion of the earnings we bring in until we’re ready to step back out on our own. It’s a successful program. Just don’t tell the government that,” Harvey adds, winking at me.

My lips twitch with a smile at the joke, but my brain gets stuck on the words before that. “You’ll go free whenever you ask?”

“Whenever they ask,” Aiden confirms, his arms loosening around me. “And we allow them to pick what jobs they’ll take and won’t.”

I look at Harvey. “But it’s still a Skin Center.”

“No,” he says. “It isnota Skin Center. The Warehouse is separate from the laws that regulate Skin Centers.”

I shake my head. “How?”

“Because,” Zander says before Harvey can answer. “There are loopholes in ownership of a Skin. If it can be documented that a Skin has been in the possession of someone for more than thirty days, a new title is issued for them.”

“We get the title. We become the owner,” Aiden adds, causing me to look over my shoulder at him. “Then we work out a plan that allows the Skin in question to get their purple card, while also allowing us to continue helping more Skins. Everyone wins.”

I scan over the crowd that has built around us, noting the way heads are bobbing and murmurs of agreement are flying. “That’s what you’re waiting for,” I murmur, stomach dropping with the realization.

“What do you mean?” Aiden asks, his arms tightening around me. It’s only Zander who regards me warily as the words leave my mouth.

I push out of his hold, stomping down the aisle, Skins stepping out of my way to clear a path as I go. My fingernails bite into my palms as my hands curl into fists and my teeth grind as my jaw clenches. Vaguely, I hear Aiden calling for me, but I ignore him, continuing on a path of seemingly never-ending Skins who are free, but aren’t.

Of course Aiden isn’t really keeping me around because he likes me on that sort of level. Of course his sexual attraction to me was the extent of his feelings for me. Of course he and Zander are just holding onto me until they’re my properowners. I was so stupid to think there was something more there, despite all of his proclamations that he wanted me to be his.

And why the fuck would I want to be? Aiden was a Skin Trader, pure and simple. He and Zander may have prettied up the package with a shiny bow, but they were still profiting off the rent of human beings. Once upon a time, I might have been ignorant enough to never consider the implications of that, but this was no fairytale and I was no princess.

No, I’m pretty sure in this story, I’m just the whore.

“Kitten,” Aiden calls, and I can hear him coming after me. But before he can make it as far as I have, an Amazon-like woman steps from the parting crowd to step into my path, her arms crossed and lips twisted into a sneer. The room becomes even quieter, if it’s possible.

“Move,” I snap, jerking to a stop.

“So you can keep stomping around like a spoiled brat?” she challenges, her hip jutting out to the side. The Skin tunic she’s wearing is almost not long enough to cover her ass, her height too much for the standard issue garment.

Something inside my brain crackles. “How are you not angry?” I bellow, my outburst startling Ms. Amazon into a flinch. I whirl, throwing my arms open. “You’re still being sold like animals!”

“We’re making that choice,” an older man says, sighing. “We can’t very well go out into the world with nothing but the clothes on our back. We’d end up right back where we started—owned by someone else for debts we couldn’t pay or for stealing food, so we won’t go hungry.”

“At least this way we have a choice in what tasks we have to do,” another woman pipes up.

“And we’re not mistreated,” a teenage girl says softly, standing closer to me than any of the others. Her big brown, soulful eyes peer at me. “Here we aren’t tied down and forced to do anything.”

I take an involuntary step back when her eyes dart to my wrists, studying the scarring there. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and I stare as her hand moves and then retreats, her own wrist covered in scarring that rivals mine.

“Here, we have each other,” Amazon Woman says behind me, her voice softer. “Here, we have respect of those who technically own us. Those who pay us, for whatever jobs we choose, agree to follow the rules, which keeps us safe.”

My eyes find Aiden and Zander standing together. Aiden looks anxious, his eyes jumping from me to the crowd and back. But Zander... Zander is completely collected, his arms cross over his chest, his expression alert but bordering on uninterested.

“This is a Stable. Where is the Library?” I ask, voice cold.

Zander jerks his head up towards the ceiling. “Top floor.”

I let out a disgusted noise, my gaze going to the ceiling. “Show me. Show me that the men and women working on that floorwantto be there, doing those tasks.”

“As you wish,” Zander responds with a snide tone to his voice. “This way, Your Highness.”

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