Traded

by Rebecca Brooke

  “Don’t stand there and hold the door open. Come in or leave.”

  My attention was drawn to a man, sitting alone in the middle of the room. I drew in a deep breath and my lungs burned. It was like the air in here was different – thinner. Goose bumps erupted all over my body, even though the temperature was no different. I told myself I was being silly, but I’d always had the innate ability to sense danger. It was something that had likely saved me a few times with Dominic. I was always able to tell when his mood was worse than normal, ensuring I was even more careful. And with the feeling that had made its way from burning lungs to the base of my spine and was currently wrapping around my chest, making it difficult to breathe, I knew without a doubt that the man was no saint.

  Dominic pushed me from behind, forcing me into the room. I looked back at him but he said nothing to explain what was going on. He grabbed my arm and pulled me forward.

  “I hope the bag she’s carrying means you brought my fucking money,” the guy in the chair said and for the first time, I got a good look at him. His hair was a deep honey blond, the thin black-framed glasses perched on his nose contrasting nicely with his green eyes; shrewd eyes, trained on my husband.

  Dominic raised his hands. “Ashton, hear me out for a moment.”

  “I’ll take that as a sign you don’t have the rest of my money yet,” the man drawled, his words slow and drawn out.

  The hair on the back of my neck prickled and I felt a presence behind me. Taking a quick peek over my shoulder, I saw that the huge, scary guy from earlier now stood directly behind Dominic. His eyes were narrowed, his muscular arms crossed over his chest.

  “Give him a chance to explain, Brock,” Ashton said, lifting a glass of amber liquid to his lips. “I don’t think the asshole is stupid enough to come here without my money and not have another plan. Did you, Dominic?”

  “No . . . ah, no . . . of course not. I do have something to offer you.” Dominic’s voice shook with every word. My gut screamed at me that something was very wrong. I folded my hands behind my back; afraid Dominic would see and reprimand me.

  What money could this guy possibly be talking about? I knew we had credit card debt, but exactly how much, I didn’t know. Dominic took care of all of the bills. Said he didn’t want me to make mistakes.

  I stumbled as Dominic pushed me from behind, my shoes catching on the carpet beneath my feet. “I’ve brought a trade.”

  Ashton laughed, but nothing about the sound felt friendly. “A trade? What could you possibly have to give me that I don’t already have, or can’t get with the money you owe me?”

  “My wife.”

  My head snapped in Dominic’s direction. I couldn’t have heard him right. There was no way he’d trade me. I might make a few mistakes here and there, but I was a good wife. I took care of all of his needs and desires—or at least I tried to. I wasn’t as skinny as he would like, or as pretty, but I tried to make up for it in other areas.

  Ashton removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “Your wife. Are you fucking kidding me?” He looked back up, replacing his glasses.

  There I stood, in front of a man I had never met, watching my husband for guidance about what the heck was happening.

  “Don’t be dense, Elena. Turn around so he can see you. This is a matter of life or death. You need to save me,” Dominic hissed.

  Searching his eyes, I could see the fear, so I made a slow circle around, unsure of what else to do.

  “What the fuck, Dominic? You come in here, owing me two hundred thousand dollars, and you want me to take your wife in lieu of payment?”

  Two hundred thousand.

  Everything in my stomach wanted to come back up. How were we ever going to pay back that kind of money? My chest constricted. It felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  “Yes and no. I’m offering a trade.” He shoved me forward. “Elena will be yours to do with as you please for the next three months. After that my debt will be paid. Plus, I gave you fifty grand yesterday.”

  “That’s splitting hairs and you fucking know it. Shit, that’s only a quarter of what you owe.”

  “I know, but I have no way to get you the money. It would take me forever to pay you off. I figure this is easier and faster. She’s not very bright, but she’ll do anything you want her to in the bedroom. I have her trained. You don’t even have to take care of her. Get what you want and go to bed.”

  The hot sting of tears burned my eyes. My husband, whom I tried to please above all others, wanted to trade me to pay off his debts. The rational part of me had a feeling that if I didn’t go along with it, something really bad would happen to Dominic. I alone had the power to stop it.

  And I would.

  CHAPTER 3

  Ashton

  What the fuck?

  All I wanted was to enjoy the game in peace in quiet. Instead, I’d entered the fucking twilight zone. I knew the moment I lent the asshole the money it was going to be problem. Never once in a million years did I believe he’d try and trade his wife to pay off that debt. Who the fuck does that?

  My first reaction was to tell the dumb fuck to get the hell out of my face and give him twenty-four hours to come up with the rest. Then I saw the way he treated his wife. I might not have been the most upstanding citizen but that didn’t mean I didn’t have my own set of morals; one being that you never treated a woman the way Tolley just had. I couldn’t even call him a man.

  In my business, I often skirted the edges of right and wrong. It was the way things were. Yes, I’d been known to use violence as a means of getting what I wanted, but it was only ever as a last resort. The way this woman flinched when he spoke, like she’d been lashed with a whip, made it clear that this was not an isolated incident.

  I looked her over. She was pretty, and had the potential to be a knockout if treated right. Her hair was a deep shade of brown, the harsh lighting catching the red highlights, and her eyes were the deepest chocolate color, but she was thin, a little too thin in my opinion. Tolley, on the other hand, looked like he could stand to lose about twenty pounds.

  There was no rhyme or reason as to why the words left my lips. I didn’t need another person to take care of, especially someone as meek as she appeared to be, but the sight of tears rolling down her face was somewhat compelling. Someone had to save the poor woman.

  “Here’s the deal. She’ll stay with me for the next three months.” I heard her gasp, but continued. “During that time, you’re going to find a way to come up with another hundred thousand dollars. If not, I come after you.”

  “Deal.”

  The words left the bastard’s lips before I’d even finished. Fuck, the guy was unbelievable. What kind of man was he to give her up so easily? The woman tried to control her tears, but her shoulders continued to shake with sobs even as Dominic walked over to her.

  “You better do whatever he says so he doesn’t come after me. If he wants you to spread your legs every hour on the hour, you’ll do it.”

  Blood roared through my ears listening to him talk to his wife that way. I waited for her to stand up to him, to say something, but she simply nodded, not a word leaving her mouth. Enough was enough.

  “Dominic, get the fuck out of my sight before I let Brock here have a shot at you.”

  His eyes widened and he scrambled for the door, leaving one very scared woman in his wake. Brock watched him leave, then turned back to me. “What now?” he mouthed.

  I waved my hand at him, giving him the signal to take a break, and seconds later the door closed quietly behind him. I walked over to the woman who had become my responsibility for the next three months.

  How the fuck do I get myself into this shit?

  Her eyes were downcast. I reached for the bag in her hand and the second my fingers brushed hers, she flinched. “Let me have your bag, then we’ll get you something to eat.”

  Thankfully, we were in a club box and had a chef catering to our every whim, otherwis
e the poor girl would be stuck with ballpark food. Good, yes, but she’d had a rough enough day. She let the bag go and I set it on the ground next to the chair I’d been sitting in. I pulled another chair close. I didn’t want her to think her only choice was to stand until we left.

  I would have taken her home right then if I didn’t have another client to meet with. It wasn’t often that I dealt with two in one night, but I wanted more time in the restaurants and doubling up here made that easier. Besides, I had some arrangements to make. She didn’t move, and remained rooted to the spot.

  “Elena, wasn’t it? Come and sit down.”

  When she still didn’t move, I rested my hands lightly on her shoulders and waited to see her reaction. She flinched but didn’t push my hands away and I guided her over to the second chair.

  I didn’t blame her for not trusting me. Even though I could only surmise as to what she’d been through, the grass on my side of the fence was no greener; of that I was certain. As much as I’d tried to steer clear of this life, it had claimed me—at least for the moment, and staying alive in this life meant becoming someone I didn’t like. When I thought back on the things I’d had to do to make it, it made my stomach roll. And that was coming from someone who grew up the way I had, knowing the things I did. I was not a good guy. She was right to be wary. I would never hurt a woman, but she didn’t know that. She was surviving the only way she knew how.

  Just like me.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Finally she looked up, her big brown eyes haunted and shimmering. She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  For most women, I would see that as them throwing a fit because they hadn’t got their own way but from the small glimpse I’d had of the way Tolley treated Elena, I knew this was instinctive. She would respond to orders and directions. After tonight, we’d work on getting over that, but for now though I was willing to give in. It reminded me of the way my uncle had treated my aunt, at least until my dad got hold of him. No motherfucker was going to treat his sister that way. Dad raised my brother and I to respect women. He said men who didn’t would get theirs. Seeing Uncle Dave in his wheelchair, a permanent fixture, was enough to convince me of this fact.

  “Elena, I’m guessing this is not what you expected when you came here tonight. Hell, this isn’t what I expected, but you need to eat. You’re here for the next three months. You can’t starve yourself until Dominic comes back for you.”

  “If you want me to eat, I’ll eat.”

  Once again, she made it clear if I said jump, she’d answer how high. That shit was going to end, starting tomorrow. “I’ll get you the menu.”

  “Menu?” For half a second she looked interested in something besides her own misery.

  “Yes, menu. This is my personal club box. We have a chef to prepare meals outside of the normal ballpark food.”

  “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

  I shook my head. “No. You’ll pick what you want to eat.”

  The menu sat on the table next to my scotch. The fifth I’d poured was definitely not going to be enough. I handed her the menu and walked over to the bar. I didn’t need a bartender to pour me a scotch on the rocks. The ballpark made sure to keep my favorite, Glen Livet, on hand. Pulling out the bottle, I watched Elena scan the menu like she wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

  “Would you like something to drink?” I gestured to the bar when she looked my way. “You name it, I have it.”

  “Oh, Dominic says I shouldn’t drink. It makes me crazy.”

  “Well, Dominic’s not here, and I don’t think one drink is going to make you go wild and start dancing on tables. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’ll help calm your nerves.”

  “If you think I should.”

  Permission again. What the fuck did he do to her? “I do. If you don’t normally drink, how about a glass of wine?”

  “Okay.”

  I grabbed a bottle of white wine from the cooler and poured a glass. Handing it to her, I looked at the menu in her lap. “Did you decide what you want to eat?”

  “Whatever you’re going to have is fine.”

  Elena’s eyes hadn’t moved from the floor since her piece of shit husband left. She was subservient and submissive; two things I liked from a woman, but only in the bedroom.

  “Elena, when was the last time you ordered your own meal?”

  Her head lifted. Her eyes were dazed. “Dominic doesn’t take me to restaurants. He says I don’t look nice enough to take out.”

  Fuck, it kept getting worse. While the dress she wore didn’t fit her very well, she had an appealing face. First thing in the morning, I was going to get her set up with some new clothes, and some other appointments. I had a feeling the poor woman had never been pampered a day in her life. It struck me that the reason she sat before me was because her husband owed me money, yet I thought nothing of spending some on her.

  I covered her hand with mine, but Elena snatched hers away and I sighed, pulling back. “I’m not sure what your husband told you, but you are beautiful. And you can pick anything you want for dinner.” Knowing that giving her permission might only get us so far, I picked up the menu and began to offer suggestions. “Do you prefer meat or fish?”

  “I’ve never had fish that wasn’t flounder.”

  “You’ve never had salmon?”

  She shook her head.

  “Okay then. Let’s have you try something new. I’ll have them send up a chicken dish as well, in case you don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to do that. Whatever you get will be fine.”

  “Elena, it’s not a problem. You’ve had a challenging day. Now take a sip of your wine. I’ll order dinner.”

  I watched her bring the glass to her full lips. For a moment she stared at the liquid, tipping it up to take her first sip. Satisfied, I walked over to the phone that connected me directly with the concierge and placed our order.

  She watched me place the order, her eyes growing bigger as I listed enough food for five people.

  “Of course, Mr. Hawes. We’ll have everything up there as soon as we can.”

  “Thank you, Robert.”

  Hanging up the phone, I returned to my seat and watched Elena for a few moments. She looked uncomfortable, awkwardly perched on the edge of the chair. I wanted to find a way to get her to relax. So much for a peaceful night of baseball.

  “You didn’t need to order all that food.”

  “Well, Brock and I need to eat too.”

  “Brock?” Her head snapped up, looking all around the room.

  “Yes, Brock. He’s imposing but I promise he won’t hurt you.”

  “That’s not what you told Dominic.”

  A little more forceful. Maybe there was hope for her after all. “Yes, but I couldn’t listen to him spew more shit. Idiot has verbal diarrhea.”

  She looked out the front window and down onto the field. “He just wants me to be the best wife I can. I’m not very good at it.”

  “Don’t think like that. Not many women would go along with what happened here tonight, but we can talk about that tomorrow. Have you ever seen a baseball game before?”

  A small tear escaped from the corner of her eye. “Never.”

  “Then please, for tonight, sit back and enjoy. We can worry about everything else tomorrow.”

  She didn’t say anything, but she did lean back in her seat, the glass of wine gripped tightly in her hand. Whatever her husband had put her through, there was a strong woman underneath. My guess: she’d hidden that person for so long that she’d forgotten how to stand up for herself.

  When dinner arrived, her eyes rounded as the waiter pushed in the cart with the food. Her focus solely on that, she missed Brock returning to the box. He quietly took a seat at the bar, behind where she sat and once the waiter had placed our food on the tables in front of us, he took Brock his steak.

  Elena picked up her fork and speared a piece of salmon. Just like the wine earlier, she
examined it before putting it in her mouth. It became evident that she liked it when she immediately went back for another bite. I barely tasted my steak. Watching her eat fascinated me.

  “That was delicious.” She dabbed at the corners of her mouth, placing her napkin on her plate.

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  There was another knock at the door. Taking two drops in one night was dangerous, but I was tired of giving up nights in the restaurant.

  Derrick Reynolds walked in. Unlike Dominic, he had a confident swagger and a smirk on his face. The first thing I noticed was lack of bag. I dealt in cash. I’m not sure what he was thinking.

  Leaning my arms on the chair, I regarded him, waiting for him to begin. He didn’t speak, just crossed his arms over his chest.

  That’s the way it was going to be. Fine.

  “Do you want to explain to me why, when you owe me one hundred and fifteen thousand dollars, you come here empty handed?”

  He shrugged. “Why should I pay you back it’s not like you’re going to do anything about it?” He nodded towards Brock. “You need him to deal with your problems, and I’m pretty sure the two of us could work out a deal.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Elena stiffen in her chair. Brock moved, but I shook my head and he stopped.

  “See what I mean. You need muscle to take care of shit for you.” He called over his shoulder. “What do you say man, I give you half of what I owe in cash to let me walk away.”