by Ella Miles
I smile making sure the edge of my mouth reaches my eyes, so it seems genuine. “I missed you, Mason. And I wasn’t expecting to see you again until I go back to school.”
“Don’t lie to me, Kai. You’re not planning on returning to school, not now that you are sixteen and not legally required to go. You’ve been slipping away more and more to work on that boat. To pay back debts that aren’t yours to be burdened with.” His fingers twist the ends of my hair between his fingers. “Stay with me, Kai. Finish school. You could live in Colton’s room, now that he is away at college. My parents wouldn’t mind. And then after you and I could—”
“I can’t.” I won’t let Mason finish his thought. I don’t think I can ever think of Mason as more than my friend. I don’t think I can think of any man in that way. Not if I want to survive.
“You can.”
I shake my head. “My father needs me.”
“Your father is a grown man. He can take care of himself. Come with me.”
I hear the footsteps behind me, the rough sand shifting beneath their feet and their voices echoing throughout the trailer park. This is a world Mason doesn’t belong in, and I won’t let him become a part of it.
“You should go. My shift starts soon.”
Mason nods. “I can give you a ride.”
“Dad is giving me a ride on his way into town.”
Mason studies me a moment, trying to determine if I’m lying or not.
“I need to change. I’ll see you at school next week. I promise.” I pat his shoulder and smile. He seems to accept my words as truth. He doesn’t realize his friend would ever lie to him. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to do anything to survive.
“I’ll see you next week, Kai.” He smiles back at me brightly, thinking our world will go back to normal.
He walks away with a small skip to his step. My smile drops watching him. I hate lying, but I won’t let myself bring him down with me.
The voices grow closer, and I turn in their direction.
“Where’s your father, girl?” The man who speaks can’t be much older than I am. Maybe early twenties if I had to guess. His voice is harsh and demanding. He’s used to getting what he wants with his threatening voice and stony stare. I see the glint of a gun at his side beneath a jacket that is too warm to be wearing here.
“My father’s not here.”
The man growls as he approaches and grabs my arm, pushing me hard against the side of the trailer.
I wince but quickly bring my face back to neutral. Never show weakness.
“I’ve been chasing you all day, girl. And I have no time for games. Where is your father? If you don't find him, I’ll make sure you repay his debt.”
I hold my breath to keep my body from trembling in fear. To keep him from noticing the speed of my heartbeat. I saw him earlier today. Hunting my father and me down like animals.
That’s why I ducked into the bar.
That’s why I stole from Enzo.
Not to keep this man from hurting me. I already know I will lose my virginity by a man like him. Repaying a debt neither my father nor I could pay.
I’ve accepted it.
I don’t need to be a fortune teller to know my future. It’s the same as any of the other girls living in the trailer park.
But I stopped it happening for one more day. I stopped my father from being beaten, tortured, and killed for one more day.
One more day.
That’s all I can ever buy. That’s all I can ever steal.
“I have what you came for.”
The man’s hand moves to my throat.
I gasp.
I can’t help it. It’s natural to fight for breath when he touches me like this. I can’t resist my natural instinct to survive. To find air where there is none.
I recoil into my body, trying to keep my fear inside.
His eyes travel up and down my body, assessing me, deciding if my body is enough to forgive my father’s debt.
He chuckles in anger. “You are far too skinny for my liking. You’re not even a woman yet. You haven’t filled out with curves that I can sink my teeth into.”
I growl as he speaks about my body and then spit in his face.
His laughter deepens as he studies my mouth. “Although, pushing my cock into your throat so you can’t speak or breathe might please me. It will not be enough to repay the debt your father owes, but it will entertain me until he returns.”
He pushes me toward the trailer. I stumble into the door.
Asshole.
I feel him walking toward me, but I won’t let him touch me again. I turn with a fierceness surging through my veins.
“I have the money to pay you back.”
He eyes me up and down again. “I won’t take a check from you, girl. I know anything you write will bounce.”
“Good, because I intend to pay you in cash.”
I dig into my bra and pull out the first wad of cash. His eyes grow big as he stares at the thick bundle.
“How did you get the money? Did you already whore yourself out to protect dear old daddy?”
My eyes tighten into slits. My body tenses, and I dig my heels into the hard sand to keep myself from attacking this man. “Do you want the money or not?”
He nods.
I pull the rest of the money from my pockets, careful to keep the last two hundred in my pockets away from his eyes. If he saw I had more money, he would take that too, as interest.
I shove the wad of money into his hands.
“How do I know this is everything?”
“Because unlike you I’m not a filthy liar. I keep my promises and pay back everything I owe. Now leave.” I turn and march into the unlocked trailer before he says another word. I slam the door shut and stick the broom through the door handle to lock the door. It does no good when we leave the house, but there isn’t anything inside worth stealing. All it does is provide some level of protection to keep men like him out.
I shake against the door, my breathing fast and heavy. Even so, I don’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. Goosebumps cover my thin arms and my gut wrenches at the thought of being violated.
I close my eyes and try to forget about him grabbing my neck. About threatening to rape me or stick his cock down my throat. I try to forget it all, but I never can. It’s not the first, nor the last time I’ll be threatened.
A knock pounds at the door making me jump. He got his money. What could he possibly want?
My mind races with what to do, how to save myself. I run to the drawer in the kitchenette. I yank it open and rummage through the drawer looking for a knife. All I find is a butter knife.
The knock rattles the entire trailer this time, and I grip the dull knife in my hand aiming it toward the door. Maybe I’ll be able to jab it in his eye, and he will leave realizing I’m not worth the struggle.
“Kai, it’s me.” My dad’s voice travels through the door, weak and worried. He must have seen the man he owes a debt to. He doesn’t know I paid it. That I’m still alive with my virginity still intact.
I race to the door, pull the broom handle out, and open the door still gripping the knife.
Father lets out a breath when he sees me. “Are you…?” He can’t finish.
I drop the knife. “I’m fine.”
It’s the truth. I’m fine. I’m always fine, but never more.
Never safe.
Never happy.
Just fine.
“Good.” He nods. “I can’t stay. Mr. Bramble is—”
“I took care of it.” I step back to let father into the trailer. He doesn’t offer me a hug, although I can tell he was concerned about him. And even if he did, I wouldn’t relish the embrace the way I did Mason’s. Father may care about me, and I may risk my life to take care of him, but it doesn’t stop the anger or pain we both feel toward each other. We just haven’t been able to find our way after we lost my mother.
He studies me a moment and then nods.
He doesn’t thank me. He doesn’t ask how I came up with the money. He doesn’t tell me he’s sorry for the life he’s forced me in to. Nothing, but a nod.
He walks to the recliner in what most would call a living room and sinks into it, putting his feet up in the chair. He’ll be asleep within minutes. The trailer has only one bedroom that is big enough for one tiny twin bed. I sleep there; he sleeps here.
We shouldn’t hate each other, but we do. We shouldn’t resent each other. It’s neither of our faults, not really. My father does his best captaining various vessels, mostly yachts for the rich. They pay him well, but we will never get out of the debt my mother caused us.
Cancer.
She died of cancer when I was little, so young I can’t even remember her. She fought a long time, over five years. But the entire time she was nothing but a vegetable. But that didn’t stop my father from trying to save her. Through chemo, treatment, the nurses and doctors costing more than we could ever afford to repay.
Most men in the trailer park have addictions that have cost their families everything. Gambling, drinking, drugs.
Not my family.
My family will forever be haunted by the ghost of my mother. If only her body had given up when her spirit did, then we would just have thousands of dollars in debt to repay instead of millions.
Then my father wouldn’t have to take on more loans from nefarious people to pay the medical bills that never end.
Then I would be able to attend school instead of working all day long.
Then maybe father and I would have a relationship beyond two people merely surviving in the same trailer.
That’s not life.
That’s a fairytale.
I watch as my father closes his eyes. Sometimes I think he’d rather stay on the fancy yachts, away from here, where even his debts can’t find him. Instead of coming home to this dump. I haven’t seen him for three weeks, but it makes no difference to me. He’s the only family I have and just as he works to protect me, I work to protect him.
I don’t wake him as I head out the door, even though I should, to ensure he pushes the broom handle back through the door, so he’s safe. I just slip out of the trailer and start my long walk to the docks. Because even though I stole over seven grand today, it’s not enough.
It’s never enough.
I ensured our survival for one more day. But we don’t have enough for food for tomorrow. And now, I have my own debt to repay.
3
Enzo
I step into Surrender and my eyes automatically darken. The club’s name is simple and is a little on the nose. There are no windows and very few lights. It’s like stepping into darkness, forcing you to relinquish your sight, body, and soul when you enter.
My spine straightens, my lips thin, and every muscle in my body tightens as I morph into the cruel vulture I was taught to be. Gone is the boy I only occasionally let out when I think no one is looking. Everyone’s eyes fall on me as soon as I step foot into the club. I’m underage, far too young to be in a place like this. But I’ve been coming here since I was seven. This club is what twisted my soul and made sure when I die I won’t be going anywhere but hell.
My eyes don’t acknowledge the stares as I walk. I know better than to give any of the drunks sitting near the entrance the time of day. They only come here to gawk at the dancing women, get drunk, and forget.
I envy them. They live a simple life, one where drinking actually makes them forget, because the worst they have to ignore is their cheating wives or inability to pay rent from their pathetic jobs.
It’s the men that sit further into the club I have to worry about. They are the ones who have real money. They have power.
I walk deeper into the club, keeping my head up. I won’t make eye contact with any of them, but I feel their eyes on me.
I’m the youngest man in this club and despite being younger, smaller, weaker; I’m their prince. This is all mine to collect.
Mine to rule.
Mine to control.
And because I’m the prince, every man here wants me dead.
I haven’t earned the right to rule them, but I will. I don’t have a choice if I want to live.
But for now, I get to continue breathing. I’ve made the mistake before, of staring at one of the men. It was a mistake I won’t repeat. Fights don’t break out in the club often; it’s not allowed unless it’s part of the entertainment. But each man in here feels they have to protect their pride, and when that pride is challenged, they fight. No rule is going to stop them.
I can fight. I’ve won plenty, lost more. Sometimes I come here seeking them out, wanting to feel the pain and adrenaline, the high that only comes when my fist connects with a jaw as blood spurts in my face. But today isn’t that day.
And I’ve gained enough respect after my last fight that most here wouldn’t dare to threaten me. At least not personally. They would send some of their minions to fight against me. Most likely sending several men to a fight that wouldn’t be fair.
My lips curl up into a smirk as I think back to my last fight where I broke a glass and used the shards to draw blood against my weaponless opponent. Not that I fight fair either.
Deeper and deeper I descend into the abyss, into the cave of the club that will one day be mine. My heart grows darker along with the light surrounding me. There are no windows this deep into the club. The light from the lamps only illuminates how black the room is.
I don’t need the light to guide me; I know how many steps it takes to get to my father’s room. I know where to avoid stepping to keep my feet silent, instead of making the hardwood floor creak. I know where to walk to stay in the shadows instead of shimmering in the light.
It’s not necessary to creep through the club silently, trying to be invisible. It’s not possible anyway. Not with the security cameras and men everywhere. Not when every man here knows exactly who I am. But it’s a habit I can’t break. I’m only visible, only heard when I want to be.
The thick door is shut to my father’s room, but I don’t knock. I turn the knob and step inside, letting the door fall closed behind me.
My lip twitches as I see my father sitting in his favorite chair toward the back of the room. Three women, more naked than clothed, dance around and on him. Two other men sit in chairs next to them. All have two fingers of the finest scotch in the glass in their hands.
This room serves as many things for my father.
His lair.
His office.
His sanctuary.
He’s fucked countless women in here and punished every man who has dared to cross him.
I don’t think he’d ever leave this room if he didn’t need to prowl the rest of the club and city to maintain his power.
“Gentleman and ladies, I need to speak with my father.”
The women look to my father for their cue what to do. My father’s gaze penetrates through me as he waves them off. They start walking toward the door in the back that leads out to another hallway. One of the women turns back winking at me as she runs her hand down her neck and across her pointed nipple—indicating she’d gladly fuck me later and wouldn’t care if I paid her like my father.
I understand why. The woman is in her early twenties. Most men in this club are in their thirties or forties. Some in their fifties. She would love to go a round with a man closer to her age. I may be seventeen, but my life experience has hardened me and makes me seem older.
Maybe I’ll find her later. I could use a fuck to get out some of my pent up energy. Especially after meeting Jocelyn. Gorgeous, intriguing, and a thief. Her deep sea-colored eyes will haunt me the rest of my life. Because as much as I’d like to find her and make her pay for stealing from me, I won’t. My reputation is still intact. No one knows she stole. And if I found her, I would punish her.
Cruel.
Mercilessly.
Until I possessed her.
Jocelyn deserves to be punished, but I’ve never dis
ciplined a woman before. Not because I’m too good, kind, or chivalrous.
One day I will. Whether by choice or necessity. And then my fall into darkness will be complete.
But I’m still young. I still have a drop of light left in my veins, and I’m not ready to relinquish it yet. Because if I touched her, I would ruin her.
Break her.
Own her.
The two gentlemen remain in their seats. I’ve known both men my whole life. They are two of my father’s best men. Highest in rank, and trusted with his very life. But I know what this meeting is about, and they won’t be privy to it.
“Alone,” I growl.
I may be half their age. I may be heir to this kingdom. But I’ve earned my right to get to speak to the king alone. Being his son has nothing to do with it.
The threat of what I’d do if the men stayed is evident in my voice. I don’t care if they are my father’s men. I would kill them.
Both men start to turn to my father to ask what to do, but my unyielding glare along with the low rumble of my throat make them rethink their plans. They stand immediately, and head for the door the women exited through.
My father smirks as they leave.
“Good to know you are finally learning something from your old man,” he says.
I ignore him as I take a seat in the chair his number two emptied. I help myself to the glass of scotch Baldwin left as he scurried out like a worried rat.
“You summoned me.” I sip the scotch, letting the warm liquid seep through me, making my already hot skin race with the fire of the liquid. I’m always hot, ready to attack—a blaze of sweltering fire that can’t be stopped.
“I did, and you came, like a good little son.”
It’s an insult. All of his words toward me are. He says them to get a reaction out of me, but I’ve long learned to pretend his insults and threats don’t exist.
“Did you have a point in bringing me here? Because I have a full schedule for today, including ensuring you make millions and the men are in line.”
“Impatient fuck as always.” He shakes his head. “I would have thought any son of mine would have learned to respect his elder, his leader.”