by Kelsie Rae
“Sei,” Dex growls. His phone is seemingly forgotten as he pushes off the wall he’d been leaning against. “What the fuck are you doing in here?”
“The photographer needed to take a piss. Figured I’d offer a helping hand,” Sei tosses back, though his gaze stays glued to me. He stalks closer. The movement makes the hairs along my skin stand on end, and my fight or flight instinct rushes to the surface.
Closing my eyes, I feel him circle me slowly, inspecting me like I’m a piece of meat at the market instead of a human being. That’s when I realize something. This man puts the others in the hallway to shame and is an entirely different caliber of despicable.
When a finger brushes against my shoulder, I shy away from the touch and open my eyes wide in search of my protector. The one who’s standing idle a few feet away with clenched fists. He doesn’t see me staring at him, though. He’s too busy glaring at the stranger’s hand like he wants to break it as it skims across my bare skin.
Sei grins at me, showcasing his stained teeth. “Sensitive too. I like that.”
“Sei,” Dex barks. A silent warning.
“Hey, Dex. Burlone wants to see you in his office. I’ll watch over the passion fruit ‘til you get back.”
The possibility of Dex leaving me alone with this psycho is enough to give me a heart attack. The thought alone makes my palms sweat, and my feet itch to run in the opposite direction.
Dex takes a deliberate step closer but doesn’t intervene Sei’s perusal as he murmurs, “Sorry, Sei. Burlone told me to stay with her, remember?”
“That’s interesting because he told you to stay with the other passion fruit too, and her door’s been left unprotected on multiple occasions. Is someone picking favorites?”
“Burlone will kill you if you damage any of the fruit, Sei. I shouldn’t have to remind you of that.”
“And I shouldn’t have to remind you that they’re fruit in the first place, now should I?” he counters darkly.
“I haven’t forgotten.”
“You sure about that?”
Dex doesn’t deem his question worthy of a response, so Sei takes full advantage of his partner’s hesitation by turning his attention back to me. The fruit.
Slowly, Sei drags his fingers down my spine, starting at the back of my neck. The movement isn’t fast. But it’s deliberate. And I know the way he paused at the hook of my bra was a silent warning too. A promise. My knees nearly buckle, but I keep my chin up and focus on a discolored cinder block in the corner of the room. It takes everything inside of me to pretend Sei isn’t here and that his ghost of a touch doesn’t exist.
“She’s strong too,” Sei notes. “Don’t you think, Dex?”
“I guess. Pity it goes against Burlone’s orders to touch her, though,” Dex reminds him. From the corner of my eye, I see Dex shrug then return his attention to his phone. I think he’s trying a different tactic, but I can’t be sure. The indifference is back even though Sei’s presence had originally sparked the old Dex to shine through for a few minutes, and I already miss him.
“I can be gentle,” Sei argues like a little boy petting his new puppy for the first time.
With a scoff, an amused Dex replies, “No, you can’t. I’ve seen the women when you’re finished with them, and I think Burlone will notice the difference.”
“God, you’re right.” Sei leans forward, smelling my hair before almost moaning. “But she’s a virgin. Did you hear that? A fucking virgin. Do you know what I would do to taste her? To mark her?”
The way he talks––as if I’m not a foot in front of him––is eerie. Like I’m literally an object to him. Without thoughts or feelings. Unable to voice my opinion or my objection.
Suddenly, I realize something that I never in a million years thought would happen. I’m grateful to Burlone for something. I’m grateful he told his men I can’t be touched. That he placed me under Dex’s protection. Because without either of these things, I’d have been broken within an hour. I can see that by the wicked gleam in Sei’s eyes as he looks at me, making my skin crawl.
“So, are we going to get the pictures taken care of, Sei? I got shit to do.” Dex sounds as bored as ever, snapping me from my thoughts and pulling my attention from that same discolored cinder block I had found so fascinating moments before. Now, I understand what Dex had meant. Getting my picture taken doesn’t seem so innocent anymore.
With a sigh, Sei ends his touch near the hem of my underwear then tugs on the ends of my greasy hair as it grazes my lower back before walking toward the camera and turning it on.
“Smile for the camera, baby,” Sei calls. Looking through the lens, he snaps a picture where I’m sure I look more like a deer in the headlights than a human being.
Which is probably exactly what he was going for.
Chapter Ten
Little Bird
“What the hell are you doing here, Sei?” a man calls from the doorway as he assesses the room.
“Just helping get the pictures taken. That’s all.” Sei raises his palms into the air and steps away from the camera.
“Well, I think I can take it from here,” the stranger announces.
With a nod, Sei exits the room but not before looking me up and down one last time, leaving me alone with Dex and the…photographer?
“I’m Frank. Nice to meet you.” He offers his hand, acting the polar opposite from the asshole who just left, which only amplifies the warning bells going off in my head. At least Sei owned up to being a sick and twisted bastard. This guy seems more like a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Then again, I’d assumed Dex was the same way. Maybe my danger radar is broken. My attention shoots to Dex. Yup. It’s definitely broken.
Still, instead of taking Frank’s hand, I eye it warily as if it’s a deadly viper waiting to strike. My lack of response only seems to amuse him.
“I’m not here to touch you,” he explains. “I’m here to make you look beautiful. Men spend more money on girls who look pretty for their pictures rather than ones who already look like death. Understand?”
A lump the size of Texas is lodged in my throat, so I don’t bother answering. Already look like death, as if it’s inevitable.
“Understand?” he pushes, losing a bit of his friendly facade.
I give him a jerky nod.
“Perfect.”
Mechanically, he grabs my shoulders and turns me at a forty-five-degree angle toward the camera. Then he walks over and looks through the peephole.
Seconds later, he presses his pointer finger against the button on the right-hand side of the camera, snapping a picture.
“Can you smile for me?”
Every instinct in my body wants me to ask why? What’s the point? But I keep my mouth shut. When my face remains blank, Frank’s eyes heat with anger, his patience almost evaporating into thin air.
“Hey, Dex?” he calls over his shoulder. His gaze is still glued to me.
“Yeah?”
“Help me out, will you?”
Dex walks over with his hands at his sides. I guess he finally tucked his phone away.
“What do you need?” he asks, disinterested.
Motioning to me, Frank tells him, “I need her to look like she isn’t a dead fish.”
“And how do you expect me to help with that?” Dex laughs darkly before inspecting me with that same look of indifference.
“Touch her,” Frank suggests.
“What?” I watch as Dex’s brows pinch together in the center, and I find my mind spinning as I try to comprehend Frank’s request too. What?
“Touch. Her. Even a look of disdain or terror is better than indifference. Maybe it’ll bring some color to her cheeks. Just…touch her. Kiss her. I don’t care. Spark some sort of emotion in her. It’s not rocket science.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Do you want me to call Sei back? She looked terrified only a few minutes ago. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”
“No,” Dex cuts him off, step
ping over to me. “I’ll help.”
“Good.”
I don’t dare say anything to my captor because Dex and I have an audience with the ability to document our every move. I’m not sure what I would say, anyway. Cautiously, Dex takes another step closer then brushes his finger against my bare hip. My stomach muscles tighten in response, but I don’t move away.
“More!” Frank instructs as I hear the familiar sound of the camera clicking.
Dex releases a breath and skims the tips of his fingers along my lower back, following across my hip then to my stomach before softly swirling around my belly button. I quiver under his touch, looking down and watching his rough, tattooed skin touch my creamy, untouched flesh. The ying to my yang.
“This is good. Give me more.”
Frank is almost forgotten, and even though I know he’s there, it doesn’t stop Dex from casting his spell on me. My breath gets caught in my throat as he drags his finger up between my breasts then toys with the straps on my shoulders like a flirtatious lover.
I won’t admit to myself that I might like it. I can’t. But I also can’t hide my physical response to his touch, and I know Frank is eating it up.
Gaining the courage to peel my eyes away from his hand, I look up and find him close. Closer than I would’ve expected when my focus was solely on his touch. His milk-chocolate eyes are glowing with need. And lust. And heat. And overwhelming want. It almost brings me to my knees. I’ve never been looked at like this. I’ve never had the opportunity. I might be in a prison right now, but it’s not the first one I’ve ever had to survive in. To say my brother is overprotective would be a massive understatement, which is why I’ve never even bothered to get close to a man. But this? This is new. And I don’t know how to respond to it. With a gulp, I lick my lips and—
“That’s a wrap. She looks good enough to eat. And so damn innocent, it’s not even funny.” I look over at Frank to see him flipping through the shots he’d just taken on the camera.
“Thanks, Dex. I think this might need to be a new tradition. Have you come melt the panties off all our fruit while I snap a few pictures.” He pauses as a triumphant smile stretches across his face, his focus still glued to the screen of his camera. “Seriously, you and I both need a raise for how much more money we’re going to bring in for her. She looks like she wants whatever you’re willing to give her. Like she’s close to begging for it. Our clients would kill to have her look at them like that.” Pulling his attention away from the images, he looks up at Dex and adds, “You can take her back to her room now. Thanks again.”
We’re still standing close; his loafers nearly touch my bare toes. Shaking himself from his stupor, he reaches for the links of chain between my handcuffs. Once his forefinger is hooked around the cold metal, he guides me back down the hall and to my room without saying a word.
The silence is palpable when he frees my wrists a few minutes later. With a gentleness I don’t expect, he rubs his thumbs along the tender skin before remembering that I’m nothing but his prisoner.
Taking a deliberate step back, Dex mutters, “I’ll bring you a fresh shirt tomorrow, and I’ll be right outside the door to make sure no one bothers you.” Clearing his throat, he adds, “They usually get a little worked up on picture day, so I want to stay close.”
My throat feels like sandpaper when I realize what he’s inferring, so I simply nod.
And with that, he steps out of the room, leaving me alone with my conflicting thoughts on the man who’s supposed to be my captor but is starting to feel a hell of a lot like more than that.
I’m so screwed.
Chapter Eleven
Dex
It’s been three days. Three days of awkward protectiveness that neither of us knows what to do with. Three days of wobbling barriers we’ve both built, yet feel close to crumbling. And three days of knowledge that her potential future will likely be in the hands of someone else.
And it guts me.
“Hey, Boss,” I call out as I rap my knuckles against Burlone’s open door.
He waves his hand in the air, allowing me to enter. “What do you need, Dex?”
What the hell am I doing here?
Rubbing my hand against my face, I ask, “I was just wondering if you’ve heard back from any buyers?”
Burlone snaps his head up from his paperwork and looks me up and down. “And why do you ask? You’ve never been curious about this side of the business before.”
He’s right to voice his suspicion, but it doesn’t stop me from bristling. “I’ve never been involved in any of this side of the business before. I figure if you’re giving me the responsibility to watch over the passion fruit, then you’re wanting me to transition and take over more responsibilities. Am I wrong?”
It’s obvious Burlone believes my load of bullshit by the way he leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers to his mouth. “No. You’ve always known that you and Sei are my right-hand men. When I retire, I plan on passing my business to one of you. The real question has always been a matter of who.”
I nod, having heard this before. It’s one of the main reasons Sei and I are so competitive with each other. Hell, part of me feels like we’re both a couple of mangy dogs fighting over a few scraps that Burlone tosses to us whenever he feels like being entertained. Regardless, we’ve always known what’s at stake because Burlone likes to dangle it in front of us like a couple of damn carrots. Unfortunately, the more time I spend in the basement with Little Bird, the less I know if I want it or not.
“The problem is that you’re soft, Dex. But you’re smart too. You think of things from different angles that Sei could never dream of. But you’re also afraid to get your hands dirty when it comes to the majority of our business dealings, while Sei doesn’t have a problem with that aspect. You two make quite the pair. It’s a pity you both can’t work together without being at each other’s throats.” He tsks. “However, to answer your question, all of the fruit I had planned on selling will be purchased as buy-ins for the event. Unfortunately, my associates are struggling with payment and are wanting to take care of the logistics on the night of the tournament before it officially starts. Because I’m generous, I’ve decided to comply with their requests, so we’ll be keeping the fruit until then. Are they giving you any trouble?”
My brows furrow. “The girls?”
He nods.
“No. They haven’t given me any trouble. The guys, on the other hand, have been little shits who don’t know how to not touch the merchandise.”
Burlone has the audacity to laugh, throwing his head back and slapping his hand against the table before he defends them. “Well, you know how they are. Boys will be boys. As long as they don’t touch the virgins, then we’re fine. Have you been keeping a close eye on them?”
There are only two. One of which is my Little Bird, though both are gorgeous and hold the same interest from the sorry sacks of shit who want to ruin them. The real problem is that I don’t know how to protect them both. I can’t be in two places at once, and Sei is making things…difficult. Which reminds me….
“Yeah. It wouldn’t hurt if you’d remind Sei to back the hell off, though.”
With a shrug, an unapologetic Burlone says, “He’s trying to screw with you, and it appears it’s working. Stop acting like you care so much about the fruit, and he’ll stop trying to screw with them. Understand?”
If only that were possible.
“Yeah.”
“Good. Now get out of my office. I got shit to do.”
When I see Sei heading my way, busy zipping up his pants after exiting a girl’s door, I snap.
Shoving him against the wall, I place my forearm against his throat and grit out, “What the hell were you doing in there, Sei?”
“Nothing.” He has the audacity to smirk.
I shove him harder, praying I bruise his windpipe. “Bullshit. Burlone said you couldn’t touch the girls.”
With a shake of his head, I re
lease the pressure slightly, and an amused Sei argues, “Who said I touched her? Maybe I just let her watch.”
“Back. The fuck. Up.” I give him another firm shove before twisting the handle to check on the girl whose room Sei just left.
What I see would break any other man if he weren’t raised in this hellhole. Unfortunately for me, it’s just another day of the week. And I hate myself a little more for it.
The other virgin, the one I’ve been ordered to keep innocent, is curled into a ball on the mattress. I approach her slowly and look for any bruising or swelling that marks her exposed skin. But the room is dimly lit, so I’m not sure I’d see it even if it were there.
“Hey,” I mutter, inspecting her a little more closely.
Shiiiiit.
Even though I already know the answer, I can’t help but ask, “You okay?”
Her eyes are dull and lifeless as she looks up at me from the mattress. She doesn’t say a word.
“Answer me, darlin’.”
“When’s the tournament?” Her voice is quiet. Broken. But not naive.
“Less than a week. Did he touch you?”
She scoffs, tucking her knees closer to her chest as she lays in the fetal position. “You mean, did he take my precious virginity? Nope.”
“I asked if he touched you,” I push, finally noticing the angry purple discoloration on her thighs and neck. Marks like these are a dime a dozen at Sin. I’ve never liked seeing them, and I’ve never been one to dole them out, either. But ever since my Little Bird landed in my lap, it’s opened my eyes to the brutality that is happening right in front of me. Turning a blind eye on the matter and pretending my hands are clean in the process is a bunch of bullshit, but I don’t know what I can do to stop it.
“If you have to ask that, then you’re dumber than you look,” she spits coldly. “Can you go now? I’d like to be alone.”
My fists clench at my sides, but I do as she asks and softly close the door behind me. After the hell she’s been through, she deserves at least that much. Resting my head against her door, I stare at the one across from me that holds my Little Bird.