Page 11 of Selling Innocence

To my side, the man who had escorted me from the front door, was Vance Moore, the artist. Also in the room was the man from the elevator and the one who had run into me, causing me to spill my coffee. Finally, sitting on a sofa, staring at me was Char, the man who had come into my work and asked me out.

I rushed toward Char, my feet moving so fast I nearly tripped. “Char? What’s going on?” I recalled the sweet way he’d spoken to me, the safety I’d felt when he’d smiled at me.

I had no idea what was happening, but I knew he was the only person in that room I could trust.

I stopped just in front of him, staring down and into those dark eyes of his. Except, he didn’t smile. That kindness I’d felt from him was absent, as though it had never been there at all.

He moved his gaze to the others dismissively, as if I held no importance at all. “So what are we supposed to do with her now?”

“If she runs off, she’ll just end up picked up again.” The man who had spilled the coffee crossed his arms.

“We can just lock her up, can’t we?” Char asked.

“I’ll watch her,” Vance said, his tone the same as he’d used before, like a sensual promise. He sounded as though he could already see me naked and he had already gotten himself halfway to satisfied. Worse, he made me believe he could deliver on those promises. “My bed is cold here since you all don’t want me to bring women back. I could use a nice warmer.”

I took a step away from Vance, putting extra distance between us.

The man from the elevator still said nothing, his gaze unnerving in its intensity. He simply watched, as if he gathered and stored each piece of information.

“Let Vance deal with her, then,” Char said.

I opened my eyes wide and looked up at Char again. “What? No, please! Just tell me what you want and I can give it to you—just let me go, please.” I blinked quickly, my eyes burning with tears I refused to let fall. Char had seemed nice before, caring, so I pleaded with him.

Char looked at me again, then rose and caught my chin between his fingers, grasping tightly. “You think I care? You think where you sleep or what happens to you matters to me at all? You’re a fool, then, and I suggest you stay out of my way.”

As soon as he released me, I jerked my gaze away. I couldn’t stand looking at him, seeing how different he was. It reminded me of Dane, of the times I’d watched him slip into a different role.

Except, Dane was Dane. This man seemed hollow, empty, as if the only emotions he knew were the fake ones he wore when needed.

And I’d fallen for that ploy entirely…

“She can’t stay with Vance,” the man who had spilled my coffee said. “We need her help, and I don’t think she’ll be useful after a night with Vance.”

“You wound me,” Vance said, though his expression didn’t appear all that hurt.

“It’s late,” the man said again. “We’ll go over the rules tomorrow and work out a plan. For tonight? Tor, you watch her.”

The gazes of the other men shifted to the one from the elevator, the silent one with the golden eyes. So he’s Tor, huh?

“Why does he get to have all the fun?” Vance asked with a pout.

“Because Tor won’t do anything questionable.”

“Boring,” Vance muttered. “But fine. I’m going to bed.” He didn’t wait before walking out as though the entire conversation hadn’t mattered.

Char followed without a word to any of us.

“I’m Hayden,” the man who had spilled my coffee said. He grasped my shoulder, then turned me so my back faced him. When he touched the cuffs, I held in a pained breath, my wrists feeling raw. Just as quickly, however, there was a click and the metal fell away. He picked up a small black bag from the top of the table and brought it over to me. “There are insulin pens in here along with a reader. They’re the same brand you were using before, according to the auction house. If there’s a problem, just let Tor know.”

I took the bag from him, ignoring my own fear. Things like the management of my diabetes took precedence over my own worries, and just holding the bag made me more secure.

“I’m going to suggest, for your own good, that you don’t cause any problems. Get some sleep—I’m sure you need it. If you cause trouble, though, I have no problem locking you up,” Hayden said.

I nodded, even if it wasn’t a question, too scared to even consider arguing with him. He seemed to take that as what he needed, because he nodded once at Tor then left as well.

I turned back toward the only man left, the silent one who unnerved me.

I don’t know if this is better or worse…

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