Page 54 of Mad Max

Chapter 23 – Cheyanne

I

’m not sure what the Hounds are doing, but I wish they’d hurry. I don’t think I’ve ever felt physically sick from my own words before. I’ve swallowed down the vomit that pushed up the second I said I wanted different girls. They’ve kept their heads down most of the time I’ve been here, but when I went over to inspect them, I raised their chins.

I saw so much in their eyes: sorrow, loss, fear. But the kicker was in the last girl, the one who reminded me of Mulan with her short, perfect black hair. I wanted her to be a warrior, but instead I only saw defeat in her eyes. She’d already given up, unlike the others.

That’s the reason why I kept her and sent the others away. I’m hoping I can get all of them out, but if I can’t, I want to take those who’ve already given up. The ones who have no more reason to fight what’s coming. They won’t be able to take care of themselves like the others. At least that’s how I’m rationalizing this. There’s no good reason to send the others away, but I need to see what he has. I need to know if it’s just women or also men. Adults or children. He mentioned a few things, so I’m not sure what he’ll bring me. I kept my wants gender neutral as much as possible, hoping he shows me more options.

Before we left the clubhouse and came this way, I was able to connect with Shop Owner and got a few details about Candy. The real kicker? She’s a redhead.

“If my client did have a specific model in mind, how long would delivery time be?” I ask Duke, trying to look like I’m in business mode and not the beginnings of a panic attack from all of this.

“Depends if we got something in stock or not. If we do, a day or two. If not, I say a week. You already have something in mind, or you just fishing for details for the next visit?”

“Redhead, about five feet. Some tattoos would be good too.”

“That’s… awfully specific.”

Crap, did I say too much? I bite my tongue to keep from biting my lip. I really hate this whole cloak-and-dagger shit.

“Breathe, Fairy.”

The soft words in my ear are all the encouragement I need. I’m not alone, even if I am the only one on my side standing here. I thought they would have closed the communications link between us—that’s what they said they’d do when we were planning this thing. Kind of glad they didn’t, or maybe mine was just turned back on.

I shrug, hoping it shows my nonchalance as I push down the emotions again. They keep bubbling to the surface lately. Guess I’m not as immune to everything as I thought I was before I met Mad Max. Or maybe I was immune and he’s just the one to start my own heart pumping for something that matters. Because he matters.

Max, and all his madness, matters to me. More than anyone ever has before. Even more than my uncle. I don’t know if I ever loved Jimmy. Respected? Of course. Trusted? Always. But love? Don’t think I knew the meaning of the word. I’ve never felt it before, rarely saw it. But I saw it with the Hounds and their old ladies. They’d rather keep their women happy than continue the farce of pretending not to listen to our conversation. I see it in how they take control of their women. It was love in their eyes. And I know without a doubt that they each heard what Duke said about them. I won’t hold it against them if every single Hound left, even my beast.

Kooper said Mad Max only trusts Law—and now me, apparently. But he just met me. And while he might matter to me, I’m not sure how much I matter to him. He might be right outside the doors or a hundred miles away already. He’s a good man, and I don’t care that he went to prison. Yeah, I looked up the reason for it. Every crime has two sides: the justification and the result. Everyone has a reason for why they did what they did to get locked up. Not saying I agree, I just know he’s a good man. He did his time, and he’s out. He’s entitled to do whatever the hell he wants to do now. And if that means backing me up but being safe from harm, then I’m fully okay with it.

“Client likes what he likes. I’m not in a position to judge, just to get what he requests. If you can’t provide it, I will need to look elsewhere. Full disclosure: I am willing to seek out other investment opportunities. It’s not about the money, I just want to make sure my clients get what they ask for. You understand, I’m sure.” I really hated his comment about women earlier, so I try to put some extra spice in my last sentence, knowing he’ll hate it, being a little sweeter and more flippant at the same time. I don’t usually try to agitate people, but this guy is different. He’s scum, and honestly, he deserves to come down a few hundred pegs. He probably thinks he’s the best thing walking. Probably never got a woman off, just makes sure he does when he gets in bed with one. Doubt if any were even willing.

He squints at me for a second before he clears his face of emotion and starts aimlessly pacing. It’s almost as if he’s taking a stroll through a park with how random he turns this way and that through the open barn area we’re in. Two guards left with the three women, and the other girl continues to kneel and say nothing. I think she’s on drugs. She’s swaying a bit, but other than that, she stays where she is and doesn’t look up from the dirt beneath her knees.

“You might not know this, but I’m part of a club myself. Half the reason why I don’t worry about those Hounds. They play at club life compared to what me and my boys do. But even then, my club hasn’t seen the benefit of this market like you and I have. There’s profit and very little drawback. At first, I just used the girls already on my payroll. They’re used to being on their backs, so I didn’t see it as an issue. But as I’m sure your clients can tell you, there’s something missing when you can’t break them in yourself, a certain thrill. That’s when we started looking for… specific types. We hadn’t even gotten more than one or two loads in before you showed up. Had me thinking you were a fed or something, but then I looked you up. First glance, thought you were just a nosy bitch who needed to learn her place: under my dick. Then I saw who your uncle is. Even thought you were trying to take over or some shit. But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” He looks at me with the fakest smile I’ve ever seen, and it’s creepy as all get-out.

I speak the truth and nothing but. “Hell no. The paperwork alone is probably a nightmare.” There’s always paperwork, no matter what the job is. I keep to myself the fact that I find selling people sick, but there’s a part of me that understands the profit margin involved. Like I said, two reasons why people do what they do. Not saying money is justification, but it is a reason for the result.

He chuckles at that and nods. “Yes, it really is. And I might be considered the new kid on the block, but I’ve learned a lot already. Want to know what my biggest lesson was?”

I don’t feel like I have an option to say no. And I’m also a bit curious to know more. It’s a bit sick how I need to know the answers to all the questions on this topic. I should just cut my losses and move on. Candy isn’t here; otherwise, he’d be jumping at making a deal if money isn’t an object, as I mentioned before. But he’s baiting me, filling time. Not sure if it’s to get the other girls or what. But it sure as hell is taking them a long-ass time to bring in the new crop. Has me curious is if he even plans to.

If he doesn’t, then what the hell am I still doing here?

He smirks. “If you want something, take it.”

Hands grab me from behind. I twist on instinct, already knowing it isn’t a Hound at my back from the way Duke is smiling.

“And I want you. You might not bring in much, but you’ll give me your contacts, and I’ll deal with them directly. No need to keep a middleman—or, in your case, woman—between us.”

I struggle more against the guard, one I’d missed when I looked around earlier, as Duke takes a few steps closer, only stilling as he raises his hand to graze my cheek. “Yeah, I’m going to have a lot of fun getting that info out of you. Breaking you will be my pleasure. Over and over again.”

A shiver racks my body before I can shut it down. My mind isn’t screaming in fear—it’s literally repulsed by the man before me.

“You touch me and you die.”

He laughs at me, and I shrug in what little give the guy holding me provides. “It’s your funeral. You’d be an idiot to think my uncle won’t come looking for me. He might be locked up, but he’s got more eyes than you. And he’ll teach you a lesson you won’t forget.”

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