Page 35 of Insidious Truths

“I thought I already have,” I irritably chided.

“Not yet, you haven’t. But all of that can change right here and now. And if you agree, I’ll make it even more worthwhile. How would you like to see your best friend again?”

“Wh-what?” My breath shook as I stared wide-eyed at him. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“Ginger, Samara. I’m talking about Ginger.”

My lips parted, my breath catching.No. It was a trick. A lie. It had to be.

“You… You have Ginger?”

Damien nodded, a wide grin spreading across his ugly, punchable face. “I do. The Bling Brothers found her. She’s in a safe location that only I and one other person know about. I promise you she hasn’t been harmed and that she’s in great care.”

“I…” I paused, squeezing my eyes closed as I breathed in deep, nausea boiling in my guts. “Prove it to me. I need proof Ginger is alive and safe. If you do that, promise to tell me where she is and what you’re planning, then fine. I’ll do whatever you want.”

Damien wasted no time and eagerly reached inside his suit pocket, pulling out his flip phone. A moment later he put it on speakerphone as the line began to ring. A woman answered.

“Yes, Boss?”

“Put Ginger on the phone.”

“Of course, Damien. Just a moment.”

My body shook, tears filling my eyes the longer I was made to wait. There was a wretched sound of a door creaking, then finally I heard, “Ginger, you have a phone call.”

I held my breath. Tears leaked down my face.

“He-hello?”

“Ginger,” I gasped, taking the phone from Damien’s hands, turning away from him. “Oh my God.”

“Samara?” she gasped in return, her voice trembling.

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“I-I’m fine.” She released a sob that tore my heart into a thousand pieces. “I-it’s so good to hear your voice.”

“There you have it,” Damien admonished as he came up behind me and rudely snatched the phone away from me. “She’s fine.”

“NO!” Ginger screamed. “YOU SICK FUCKING BASTARD! SAMARA, DON’T LISTEN TO—”

He snapped the phone closed, facing me with the darkest of smiles curving his mouth.

He proved it. I didn’t think he would, but he did. I made him a deal and now I had to honor it.

“What do I have to do?” I shakily asked, wiping carefully under my eyes.

“It’s quite simple, really.”

He pressed his palm to my chest and pushed me down on the couch, digging his knees between mine until he’d forced himself between my legs. Nausea burned up my throat as he began undoing his belt and unzipping his black slacks.

“Now be my good little slut and open your fucking mouth.”

Jace

13

Out of all the jobs Father could’ve assigned me, he decided to gift me with the dreadful responsibility of running this despicable fucking club. Friday nights weren’t nearly as chaotic compared to Saturdays, but tonight, it was a fucking nightmare. Three waitresses called in sick with the flu and two never bothered showing up for their shifts, which left me with no choice but to pull three bouncers from their posts to help assist picking up tables. The truck containing our liquor inventory was due to arrive at 4PM today. Here we are six hours later, and the shipment still hasn’t been delivered. I’d pulled what I could from VIP to help the bartenders manning the main bar, but it was nowhere near enough to get us through. At this rate, we’d be out within the next hour with nothing but beer bottles and draft beer to sell. And of course, the ten-thousand-dollar speaker connected to the main stage was malfunctioning again. I’d been calling Father nonstop for over an hour, and he absolutely refused to answer the phone.

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