Page 5 of As Thick As Thieves

I’d missed having company.

“Do you and Ander save girls often?”

“No offense, but I don’t want to talk about it,” he grunted, assessing me as I ate. “You’re covered in cuts and bruises.”

“Yeah, I know. Dad’s a piece of shit,” I answered, reaching for the bottle of water that he’d already given me. “I’m fine, seriously. I was going a little crazy locked in the basement with nothing but soggy bread and water that I had to lick off the floor, but I’ll survive. I’m just glad one of his crazy, rapey friends didn’t buy me.”

“You need weeks of a nutritious diet, and it couldn’t hurt to get a medical check.”

“Won’t Dad find out?” I couldn’t go back in that basement.

“He sold you, Penn. Obviously, I’m not holding a claim over you, I fucking hate that shit, but in the skin trade world, I own you. If I want to take you to get checked out or to the store and events, I’m allowed to. You’re free of him, babe,” he said gently, and I shoveled more soup into my mouth to try and ease the tightness in my throat.

“Why would you spend that kind of money on me? Where did you get it?”

He leaned back in his seat, glancing at his phone before replying. “You’re worth more, but no offense, it’s counterfeit cash. Your dad’s a dumbass and squirrels it away, so nobody really notices.” He slid his phone into his pocket, assessing me for the hundredth time. “Can you tell me if you have any injuries under those clothes?”

The soup in my stomach soured at the thought of him seeing the whip marks, but I knew cleaning them in the shower wasn’t going to be enough. Seeing them in the mirror had made me nauseous, and the water had hurt like hell on some of them.

“It’s bad,” I admitted quietly, pushing the rest of the soup away, my appetite gone. “He whipped me.”

“It broke the skin?”

“Some are infected,” I said with a wince, meeting his gaze. “I tried cleaning them in the shower but—”

“May I take a look?” he asked, my muscles bunching as I leaned away from him. “If it’s infected, you need antibiotics. I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“Okay,” I forced out, trying to grab the back of the shirt to lift it but the angle pulled at the wounds.

“I’ve got it,” he murmured, standing and slowly lifting the back of my shirt. I leaned forward as humiliation washed through me, flinching as his cool fingers touched my back. “Sorry. Some of these look bad, Penn.”

“I know.”

He was careful as he inspected them, cursing when his phone rang loudly and scared the shit out of me.

“Sorry, I need to get this.” He walked into the other room, and I could hear him cursing up a storm. “I’m busy, okay? Why can’t he handle it on his own? I’m not coming home for that. I said I was fucking busy.” I got to my feet and wandered towards the room, finding him pacing and raking a hand through his hair. “What part of busy don’t you understand?”

“I can leave?” I offered, startling him as he swung his gaze over to me.

“No, stay,” he said quietly. “Go finish your food.” I went to answer but annoyance filled his face as the person on the phone said something. “None of your fucking business, asshole. Unless he’s dying, then I’m not coming to help. Good night.” He hung up with a scowl, giving me a look. “Sorry, my friend Logan got into some trouble at the track and expects me to bail him out.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine, just stuck his damn dick in someone he shouldn’t have and got his ass beat,” he replied dryly. “Show me your stomach. I’ll have to put some ointment on them, and I’ll get you some antibiotic pills tomorrow. If they don’t start showing improvement in the next few days, we’ll have to take you to the hospital.”

“But won’t they ask questions?” I didn’t want to be grilled for information.

“Not if I call in some help. For now, eat the rest of your soup while I put ointment on these wounds, and then you should get some rest. Keep taking small sips of water, too.”

“Thanks for this,” I said with a small smile. “I’ll be sure to pay you back somehow.” Sleeping with him would be a fast payment, but the thought made me feel sick. I liked Zavier, but not like that. “Do you want me to sleep with you or something? I don’t have any money.”

“Jesus, no. I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do, not because I want you to owe me anything,” he said firmly, steering me towards the kitchen. “Don’t use yourself like that. I can see you don’t want to. Sleep with people because you’re attracted to them and want some fun, not because you think they’re entitled to it. You’re a person, not a pawn.”

“What do you want then? I can’t—”

“You can take everything I’m offering for free. Stay as long as you like, there’s no catch. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said before I could finish my sentence, relief filling me.

“Thank you.”

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