Devil's Bargain

by Natasha Knight

  “He did hurt me. When you left me there.”

  Shame leaves me mute.

  “But that’s past,” she says, although the tone of her voice tells me something else.

  “Does he know why you’re in town?” I ask.

  “You mean does he know about you being here?” she asks, answering my question with her own.

  I nod.

  “I didn’t tell him.”

  I listen to how she says it, how she doesn’t quite look at me when she does.

  “But does he know?”

  She meets my eyes. “If I can just get a little money, I can get out of this place.”

  She wants money. That’s all.

  I feel the sudden shift, the coolness of her gaze, and wonder if she read the change in my expression.

  “The sooner I’m away from Sean, the better. Now that you’re here, I can stay with you,” she says.

  “No. I’m sorry. I’m leaving town for a while.” I reach into my tote, take out the envelope with half of the money I had saved to donate to the shelter this month. I hold it out to her. “It’s not much, but it’ll help you when you’re out.” She reaches for it, but I pull it away. “You can’t tell him about me, understand? He can’t know I was here. He’ll hurt me, Liza. Really hurt me. And you know it.”

  “He already hurt me, Melissa,” she spits, using my full name. “When you left.”

  “I had no choice. He would have killed me after what I did.”

  “We were supposed to go together.”

  I lower my gaze. We had a plan, yes. We would go to the police. Tell them everything. But then she lied. Changed her story.

  “I need to go.” Because every minute I’m here, I’m in danger. I set the envelope of cash in the drawer of the nightstand by her bed.

  “Can I call you at least?” she asks.

  “That’s not a good idea. I told you that the last time. I can’t see you again, Liza. It’s too dangerous.”

  I walk to the door.

  “So that’s it?”

  I stop. “I’m sorry, I—”

  “You just walk away? Again?”

  I turn to face her. “Do you know Hawk’s men came to my house?” I ask, remembering how scared I’d been. Letting myself get angry. “Do you know they were waiting there for me when I got home? Do you know what I did for you last night?”

  This time, it’s her to shift her one good eye away.

  “I think we’re even, Liza.”

  I walk out the door then, feelings of guilt and anger warring inside me. I believe her when she says he hurt her after I left, but the family adopted her months after I was gone. She’s officially Sean’s sister. And he won’t hurt her now if only because it won’t look good if he does. He’s like his father, image is everything. I guess if you’re a politician, it matters more than the truth.

  I don’t feel easy when I walk away and as if on cue, when I get into my car, my phone vibrates with a message. I take it out and see a text from an unknown number.

  “I’m having a dress sent over. Car will pick you up for dinner. Hawk.”

  “How did you get this number?” I text back.

  “He’ll be at your house at seven.” I’m not surprised he doesn’t answer my question, am I?

  The timing is serendipitous.

  If I accept, I will be safe. Safe from Sean, at least. Maybe I’ll be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire, but the only thing I know for sure is Sean will come after me if—when—Liza tells him I’m here. Because she will tell him.

  She may say she misses me, and maybe she even believes it, but I think she hates me. Hates me for leaving her behind even if she knows it was the only choice I had.

  And now, I make another choice.

  I type a text to Hawk: “I have terms.”

  9

  Hawk

  I see her before she sees me.

  I’m in the restaurant at my usual table. Here on the floor above the casino, the constant ringing of slot machines is absent. Instead, a pianist plays softly in the background and given the prices of this particular establishment, it’s only the cream of the crop who can afford it.

  The hostess gestures to me and Melissa turns. She looks stunning in the long, tight-fitting black gown I sent for her to wear. A look through her closet yesterday told me she wouldn’t have anything appropriate. The dress is slit almost all the way to her hip and the deep V between her breasts displays the curves of those heavy mounds.

  Her hair is up but for one tendril that she tucks behind her ear. Although she’s wearing more makeup than she was when my men picked her up the other night, it’s still minimal compared to the women in here.

  I don’t miss the eyes that follow her as the hostess leads her to me.

  I stand as she nears the table. I don’t hear what the hostess says and I don’t care about the people watching us. I walk around, pull out her chair and get a look at the expanse of skin the low cut back of the dress leaves exposed. Right down to the two dimples on her lower back that I plan on licking later.

  “You’re stunning,” I tell her.

  “I feel naked.”

  “I’m sure the men in here wish you were.”

  She sits down and I push her chair in, then resume my own seat.

  “I have my own clothes, you know.”

  “You’ll wear the clothes I choose for you,” I say. “Term number 1.”

  “I thought terms were things people discussed, not something one dictated.”

  I signal for the waiter who walks over and pours her a glass of wine.

  “Besides, I’m not used to this kind of dress,” she says.

  “Well get used to it. I take care of what’s mine.”

  “I haven’t agreed yet.”

  “Haven’t you?”

  She doesn’t reply, just shifts her gaze away.

  I smile because yes, she has agreed. Even if she doesn’t realize it yet.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask.

  She nods, opens her menu. The waiter hovers nearby to take our order.

  Melissa studies the menu for longer than I’d say is normal, closes it and looks up at me. She’s not used to this either, I can see it in her flustered expression.

  “I don’t know what to order,” she says.

  “Then I’ll get you my favorite. Two of the special,” I tell the waiter.

  “Yes, sir.” He takes our menus.

  She picks up her glass and looks around, drinks a sip then sets it down.

  “Name your terms,” I say.

  “I will be free to work during the days. I have a shop.”

  “I know about the shop and that’s fine. You’ll be driven back and forth to work.”

  “I have my own car.”

  “That thing is a death trap.”

  “It’s not a death trap.”

  “It’s duct taped together.”

  “It runs fine.”

  “Is this worth a battle? Really? Like I said, I take care of what’s mine, Melissa.”

  “You realize I’m a person, not a thing, right?”

  “I never said you were a thing. You’re very quick to attack.”

  “I told you last night that I won’t be bullied.”

  “Did I bully you into putting on a beautiful dress? Did I bully you into having dinner with me? Am I not here listening to your terms?”

  She exhales, shifts her gaze to her wine glass and picks it up to drink another sip.

  “You won’t put me on those blocks again.”

  “I wasn’t going to. I already told you that. Next.”

  She looks around. “I wish we could discuss this somewhere private.”

  “It’s none of anyone’s business.”

  “If there’s anything…I don’t want to do…” she starts, lowering her voice. Her eyes dart around the room and I can see the effort it takes for her to meet my gaze again, to say the words. “If you force me—”

  “Doesn’t need to be said, Melis
sa.” I choose my words carefully, but I want to be clear. “You insult me by suggesting otherwise.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Besides, you already know that, or you wouldn’t be here.”

  She studies me, and I see that child inside her eyes again, cautious and fearful.

  “And since you bring it up, after dinner you have an appointment for a check-up.”

  “Check-up?”

  I lean in close. “I need to be sure you’re clean.”

  “I am.”

  “Regardless, you’ll submit to the examination.”

  “I have a doctor.”

  “So do I. She’ll be waiting for you in an hour. Non-negotiable.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m clean.” I give her a wink.

  “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  “Are you going to be sleeping with anyone else during this time?” she asks.

  “Anyone from my stable, you mean?”

  “Your stable or anywhere else.”

  “I don’t plan on it, no. Do I need to ask the same question to you? If there’s a stable of men…”

  “Don’t make fun of me, Hawk. If we’re having sex, I need to be sure.”

  “You can be sure. This is an exclusive arrangement.”

  “Have you done this before?”

  “A contract like this?”

  She nods.

  “No, I’ve never had the need or desire to. You’re the first.”

  “Like a test-run?”

  I take a breath in. She’s trying my patience and I understand why.

  “You’re free to say no, Melissa. Money hasn’t yet been transferred. But if you agree, you own your part in this. You own the fact that I gave you a choice and that you chose. That you said yes.”

  She purses her lips in irritation. That’s fine. I continue.

  “I will know where you are at all times. If you want to go somewhere, that’s fine, but I will know, and my driver will take you. If you need anything, you ask me, and I’ll take care of it.”

  “I won’t be a prisoner.”

  “I don’t want a prisoner.”

  “Why do you need to know where I am all the time?”

  “I don’t need to. I just want to.” I lean in toward her. I want to be sure she understands what I say next. “I won’t put many restrictions on you. I’m a reasonable man. But if you say yes then we have an agreement, and these are my terms. Your acceptance means your compliance to said terms.”

  “Your rules you mean?”

  “Whatever language you’re comfortable with.”

  “I want to talk—”

  “And know that there will be consequences if you break those rules.”

  “What does that mean?”

  I relax back and give her a wide grin. “It means don’t break them. Did you visit Liza today?”

  “No personal questions. Like your ‘no personal effects’ rule during the auction.”

  “Touché.”

  The food comes then, filet mignon with roasted potatoes and asparagus. She puts her wine down and picks up her knife and fork. I’m surprised at the zeal with which she eats. She’s half-way through her steak before I take my first bite.

  When she notices me watching, she sets her utensils down and wipes her mouth.

  “Have you eaten today?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Just coffee this morning. I was busy.”

  “Another term then. You’ll eat regular meals. I need you healthy. I don’t want you passing out.”

  “I don’t typically starve myself. I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

  “Like Liza?”

  “No personal questions. We just agreed.”

  “Testing.”

  “Don’t test.”

  “Eat, Melissa.”

  She picks up her knife and fork and resumes eating. “Is Hawk your real name?”

  She’s breaking her own rule, but I answer with a nod. “Family name. Always the first-born son’s name.”

  “Is that a Scottish tradition?”

  “Not particularly. Just my family.”

  “Are they here too?”

  I lean toward her and she meets my gaze. “No personal effects, remember?”

  She shifts her gaze back to her meal, and we eat in silence. When we’re finished, I pour the last of the wine into her glass and watch her sit back and drink.

  “Why are you doing this?” she finally asks. “I’m pretty sure you can have any woman you want. Why me?”

  I’ve been waiting for the question, asked it to myself more than once. But I don’t have an answer.

  “That’s personal,” I say, deflecting. “Would you like dessert?”

  She studies me, shakes her head no and that lock of hair falls forward. I think how it would feel against my face, my chest, my cock. How her heavy breasts would feel hanging on me, all that hair tickling me as she takes me into her mouth.

  “Are we agreed, then?” I ask. I want to get out of here.

  She studies me, nods once.

  “Good. I’ll transfer funds tonight. Half now, half at the end of the thirty days.” I stand, walk to her side of the table. “Let’s go.”

  Again, she blushes as she sets her napkin on the table and rises.

  I touch my hand to her naked back, running my knuckles over the curve of her spine. She stiffens, sucks in a breath at the touch, and when I lay the flat of my hand across her back, it spans almost the whole of it.

  We exit the restaurant, walking to the elevator. I signal to one of my men.

  “Take Melissa to the penthouse. She has an appointment.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I turn back to Melissa who’s watching me with a worried expression.

  “Is this really necessary?” she asks when the elevator doors slide open.

  I nod.

  She glances at the man but if he’s listening, he’s smart enough not to show it.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she says.

  “You’re welcome.”

  She looks at me a moment longer like she has something to say, but then she steps onto the elevator and I watch her until the doors seal closed and carry her away from me.

  10

  Melissa

  Hawk left a few things out.

  One, that the doctor would be administering a birth control shot and two, that directly following my appointment with her, I’d be getting waxed.

  When I finally hear the ding of the elevator doors and watch them slide open, I’m fuming.

  Hawk steps out, looking like a giant even here. His smile doesn’t waver when he sees my face or my stance. I’m wearing a bathrobe, underneath which I’m naked, and standing with arms folded across my chest. I’m sure my face is red with anger.

  He takes off his jacket casually, sets it over the arm of a chair and moves directly to the liquor cabinet to pour himself a whiskey.

  “Vodka?”

  “No, thank you. I didn’t know I’d be getting a birth control shot.”

  He shrugs his shoulder. He does that a lot and it irritates me that something so important to me is a shrug of a shoulder to him.

  He sits down on the couch and sips his drink. “No risk of pregnancy,” he says.

  “It’s my body. You can’t just decide on birth control for me.”

  “I just transferred a considerable amount of money into your bank account which says I can.”

  “Are you going to hold that over my head every time I don’t go along with what you want?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well don’t. We agreed. It’s an even exchange.” But is it? Even as I say the words, I know they’re not true. He has the upper hand and we both know it.

  He just swallows his drink and watches me looking somewhat amused.

  “You had me waxed.”

  The hint of a grin I glimpsed now spreads wide. “That’s right. Let’s see.”

  “You
have to ask me, Hawk.”

  “You could have said no, Melissa,” he says, his tone matching mine.

  I stop. It didn’t even occur to me to say no. That it was a choice.

  “I didn’t—”

  “I told you you’re not a prisoner. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Would it be easier for you if I did? Is that it? Relieve you of your responsibility in this?”

  “That’s not…I just didn’t realize it was a choice. The birth control shot wasn’t.”

  “Who says?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Get the whiskey and come here,” he says in reply, pointing to the space between his legs.

  With a frustrated exhale, I go to the liquor cabinet but hesitate.

  “It’s the bottle without a label.”

  I pick up ornate bottle and go to him.

  “Do you make it in your bathtub?” I ask, looking at it.

  His face becomes serious momentarily. “I own stock in the company,” he says, signaling for me to come closer.

  I do, standing between him and the coffee table. He takes the whiskey and sets it down.

  “Open the robe.”

  “Is this a choice too?”

  He sips his drink. “Are you bored of this conversation yet? I am.” He gestures to the belt holding the robe together.

  I look over his shoulder, out at the lights of the strip.

  “Open it,” he orders.

  Without returning my gaze to his, I undo the belt and let it fall open. I feel his hands on me, big and rough on my bare skin, his touch making my already racing heart beat faster. He opens the robe wider.

  I look down at the thick dark hair on top of his head as he takes in my newly waxed pussy, only the thinnest strip of hair remaining there now. I think about yesterday or the day before or the week before. I think about how my life had been normal then. Now, this, him…it’s about as far from my normal as it can get. I’m not really even sure how I got here. Or how I said yes to this deal. Or why.

  Even given the situation with Liza and Sean, wasn’t there an alternative? One that made more sense?

  But then his fingers are on me again, touching the strip of hair and I can’t think about Liza or Sean or anything anymore. Especially not when he looks at me with his strange now darker eyes.