Page 35 of Worth

The crowd closes behind me, the same way they parted, as I make my way back to the elevator. Zander and Aiden are already waiting for me in the elevator by the time I make it there, leaving me space between them. I turn and face forward with a neutral expression, letting the eyes of so many people still trapped in slavery drill into me.

As the doors close, my heart leaps in my chest, wondering if this wasn’t the plan all along and I just willingly walked into my fate as a fixture in this place’s Library.

I watch Kitten in the blurred reflection of the brushed metal elevator doors. Her expression is cool and distant—detached. I haven’t seen her withdrawn like this in weeks and it’s making me so fucking anxious.

“Kitten,” I start, in an attempt to explain more to her. I snap my mouth shut when she gives me a dead stare. Through the blankness on her face, I can see the thunderstorm of anger churning in her eyes. I catch Zander shaking his head subtly, encouraging me to obviously make Blake understand we aren’t the bad guys.

I’m preparing to launch into a speech that I’ve perfected in the last five seconds when the doors ping open. Without waiting for us, Kitten glides forward, crossing her arms over her chest again. Her hips sway back and forth as she moves, her round ass flexing with each –

“Move,” Zander snaps, cuffing the back of my head.

Oh shit. Right. Library.

I catch up with Kitten, who is already halfway through the room. Her confusion is palpable as she takes in the Skins that are lounging around the Library. Not that there’s many of them—most Skins don’t choose the Library for their work, even though the pay is higher. At the current moment, we only have six Skins stationed here—two men and the rest women.

Andre—one of the male workers—stands from where he’s lounging on a couch, coming toward Kitten from the side. He moves with a sort of confidence that normally gets him the customers over John, the other male worker. My Kitten, in tune with what being prey feels like, freezes, her eyes locking on Andre as he gives her a leisurely grin, stopping at her side.

I feel a snarl curl my lips. Fury courses through me, and I move to interrupt him from doing anything more. I already know that I’ll kill him if he tries to touch her. I hope he doesn’t. Andre is a pretty decent guy and is close to getting his purple card—I’d hate to see his effort go to waste because he couldn’t keep his hands off what is mine.

Before I can take more than a step, a hand latches onto the back of my neck, forcing me to stop and only watch the scene before me.

“Look, Aiden,” Zander urges. “She is not loyal to you. She’ll fall for Andre’s charm and wind up in his bed.”

“No,” I hiss in response. “You’re wrong.”

But as I say it, Kitten’s one lifted eyebrow lowers and the blankness fades, replaced by curiosity. A pang of hurt vibrates through me.

Andre traces a line along her jaw, not quite touching her skin. “You must be special to be escorted personally by the boss men,” he murmurs, leaning close so that his lips practically touch the shell of her ear. “I promise I can fuck you until you’re hoarse from screaming.”

Zander’s fingers tighten on my neck even though I haven’t moved and when I glance at him over my shoulder, I see the dangerous glint of possession in his eyes as they narrow on Andre and our girl. Fucker. He’s just as obsessed with Kitten as I am.

“Youwantto do that or youhaveto?” Kitten asks, and I’m relieved at how bored she sounds.

Andre recovers quickly, only his rapid blinking giving away his surprise. He scans Kitten’s face for a minute and then steps away, mirroring her stance with crossed arms and all. The charm falls away and then he’s just a regular guy, uninterested in wooing the woman in front of him to make a pretty penny. I feel Zander relax at the same time I do. I make sure to elbow him as hard as I can in the ribs before pulling away from him with a huff.

“Want,” Andre answers, matter-of-fact. “Pay is highest in the Library. I get to fuck as much as I please. Win, win.”

Kitten’s nose wrinkles at the revelation, suspicion making her eyes narrow at the same time. Almost like he understandswhyshe is so disgruntled, he nods.

“I was used for manual labor before I ended up here,” he tells her. “I was never used for anything else.”

I watch as Kitten digests that, see the anger flare in her eyes—not at Andre; at Damien, or Stephen Vetella, or maybe even herself. She’s pissed at how she was used and broken, while others weren’t. Because I know how that feels, I’m guessing she wonders if it isn’t her fault, too. I know I wonder if it’s my fault, the things I had to do. If I was a good person, wouldn’t I have been spared from what I went through?

Maybe I’m just a bad person.

Her whole body tenses suddenly and, though I don’t hear a thing, I can sense a scream building inside of her. I step forward, hands raised like I want to yank her away from her hurt. Then, without uttering a sound, her body goes slack.

Kitten turns towards me, her eyes lacking everything—including that spark of anger. “I want to go…” She trails off, and I can hear the word echoing around us, though she didn’t actually say it.

Home.

“I want to go back to the house,” she says, trying again. Her voice is practically monotone. “I want to leave.”

Zander doesn’t argue, nor is he snide, gesturing toward the elevator behind us. “Let’s go.”

Kitten walks back to the elevator, her shoulders drooping lower with each step. I catch up with her as the doors open, sliding my arm around her waist. When she lets her head fall against my shoulder without shoving me away, I know that she’s lost all her fight. Somehow, seeing this place has done what Damien never did.

It defeated her.

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