And when I turned back and looked into her eyes – eyes I suddenly realized were far too young for the life she was living – my heart broke for her and I felt like weeping.
“Please, sir, I'm begging you. If I don't get at least another customer –” She stopped speaking and I saw the light in her eyes – what little remained – suddenly go out. She set her jaw and apparently steeled herself to the reality before her. “Never mind. I'm sorry for my outburst. I'm sorry to have troubled you, sir.”
I wanted to stop, to ask her what would happen if she didn't get at least one more customer tonight – but I couldn't. But I had an idea. I wasn't blind or deaf to the suffering going on around me and had heard stories about men forcing women into the sex trade – and dealing out terrible abuses should they fail to produce. I'd heard those stories but didn't want to believe them. That was the kind of thing that happened elsewhere – not on Optorio. And most certainly, not in Tochasea, the most prosperous city in the system.
Feeling terrible, but not knowing what else I could do, I reached into my pocket and felt for any spare change that might be in there. It wasn't enough. Not by far and I knew it. It most certainly wouldn't be nearly enough to satisfy her boss. I knew that and feared the consequences for her, but it was all I had. It was all I could do.
“Here, miss,” I said, handing over the change. “I wish I could do more, but it's all I have. I'm sorry.”
The woman looked down at her hand and sighed, pocketing the change and walking away without as much as a “thank you.” Not that I could blame her. Common courtesy wasn't a concern when you were dealing with life or death, as many of the people on the streets of our formerly great capitol city were.
When Baz's father had been on the throne, the people had been taken care of. He could be a bit of a tyrant, I had to admit. But it was mostly when dealing with off-worlders and people not from Optorio. He was a rigid man, set in his ways. He did not like change and he did not like to be challenged.
But when it came to caring for his people, he always went the extra mile. He'd opened shelters for those who had no place to go. Made sure they had food, a place to sleep, and had an army of people to help clean them up, get them trained, and get them back to living a normal, productive life. He'd created jobs – had just invented them out of thin air – simply to make sure his people could work. Could care for themselves and stand on their own two feet. It infused them all with a sense of pride and dignity.
As I looked at the young woman as she walked away, I ruminated on the fact that it was pride and dignity that was sorely lacking. And had been ever since Baz had abdicated the throne. There was some small part of me that was angry at him for doing it. By doing so, he'd paved the way for this sort of greed and corruption – for this sort of deprivation and suffering among the people. He wasn't psychic, but he should have known this would happen. At least, that's what the bitter, angry part of my mind told me.
But deep down, I knew I was just angry at the state of things on our world. This wasn't Baz's fault and there was no way he could have known what would happen. Logically, I knew that. And as his friend, I'd encouraged him to follow his heart. To do what he felt was best for him and not be beholden to tradition or a life of servitude if he did not desire it.
Sometimes – like when I walked among those in need in the city – I regretted ever encouraging him to follow his heart. There was some small part of me that wishes I had spoken out against it. Had encouraged him to stay, to follow tradition and sit the throne when his father passed.
But that was the selfish part of me. Baz had every right to live his life the way he saw fit.
I sighed as I passed an older woman holding two small children at her side. Her nearly translucent skin was dirty, unkempt, and to be honest, she smelled horrible. The thick shock of dark hair on her head was filthy and her face was a mask of pain and desperation. She needed to feed her children as well as herself – but I had nothing to give.
“Please, sir,” she said, her voice hoarse. “My children haven't eaten in two days.”
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But as with all matters, I held my emotions in check. I was a member of the Regent Council and couldn't be seen to be emotionally unbalanced. It just wouldn't be proper and would give my enemies among the Council – of which, I had a few – ammunition to use against me.
“I'm sorry, miss,” I said. “I've already given away all I had. But did you look into the shelter two blocks from here?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “The Council closed it down two weeks ago.”
I sighed and shook my head. Though I – and a few others who shared my views – had not been present at the time, the Council had begun dismantling all of the social programs that Baz's father had instituted – including closing down the shelters for the needy. They'd said it wasn't financially viable and was draining the government's coffers while giving nothing of value in return.
I'd argued strenuously, but in the end, had been shot down. And in the ultimate form of disrespect, had begun voting to shut down the shelters one by one without even allowing me to cast a vote or lodge a formal protest.
Feeling miserable and powerless, I had to acknowledge that I was fortunate. At least, compared to so many, I was fortunate, I supposed. I wasn't on the streets. I had a roof over my head, a job that supported me thanks to skills that were always going to be in demand. I had food. I had the basic necessities that kept me going every day. I didn't have to live in a doorway or under a bridge. I didn't have to sell my body. And I didn't have to suffer the indignities and degradations so many of my fellow Optorions had to endure on a daily basis.
I also had the memory of my home before it was like this. Before it had fallen into ruin. Before the Regents had assumed control.
I never knew things could be worse than when Kapoc had been in charge – albeit briefly. But that small taste had given me an idea of how disastrous his reign would have been. Life on Optorio would have been hard and brutal under Kapoc, but life under the Regents seemed to be far worse. The deprivation was far greater and their corruption seemed more insidious.
Crime was through the roof, I now had to watch my back as I walked the streets. The government set in place by Baz was no longer concerned with our safety and welfare. They stayed away from the people, stayed away from the streets, and when they did come out, they had armed guards by their side.
Kapoc was a brutal tyrant, there was no doubt. But at least you knew what he was. The Regents pretended to be of the people, pretended to care about their welfare, and pretended to truly want to make life better for all. The reality of the world run by the Regents though, was far different. Far starker. And far, far worse.
I walked on, leaving the crowded and filthy streets behind me as I made my way home. A home that unlike some of the other Regents, was very modest. In fact, it was the same home I had lived in before ever joining the Council. Most of the other Regents, as their wealth grew as amply as their midsections, had moved to far more spacious, comfortable, and opulent homes. It was their right for doing so much work on behalf of the people, they said.
“It wasn't supposed to be like this,” I muttered to myself, unlocking the door to my small home on the outskirts of town. “It wasn't supposed to be anything like this.”
As I stepped into my home, I turned and made sure to lock the door behind me. I didn't fear the people on the streets so much. No, I feared those in the fancy clothes, with the ostentatious homes and friendly smiles – those who'd done this to our world. Our home.
I sighed as I walked through the darkened hallways of my home. My work day had been long, but I wasn't done yet. There was still more work to do. There was always more work to do. At least, for some of us. I signed into my security system and submitted to the bio-scan, authorizing that it was indeed me in the system. Once I had been verified and granted access, I got to work.
I began by pulling up some names – names of some of the members of the Council I
was looking into. I'd been looking into them secretly, of course.
Ragor was the last one of the Regents I'd followed from a distance, and I watched as he came out of the building where many of the more exotic looking prostitutes often lingered. It was a private club you had to either pay very well to attend, or know somebody who could get you in. Somebody like me, just off the street, would not be welcome there.
But many of the prostitutes that I saw did not look to be Optorions to me. They looked to be from off-world. And although we did not forbid the practice of prostitution and companionship, we did have laws in place that prohibited the importation of alien woman for the purposes of forcing them into the sex trade.
The question in my mind though, was whether or not Ragor was only a patron. Or if he was working the sex club from the inside. After all, he'd paid several visits to that same club in the last week – often spending hours at a time there. Sure, a man might have a libido that high, but Ragor was aging, and it seemed highly unlikely that he had the stamina and vigor to spend an entire evening with prostitutes.
To me, it looked like Ragor was involved with the importation of women from other planets for the sole purpose of exploiting them. Of bringing in alien sex workers and likely, profiting handsomely from it.
But I couldn't be certain.
This was why I had much more work to do. I needed to get inside of one of these sex clubs, see what was going on inside. I needed to see where this new influx of women were coming from. I needed to figure out who else was involved with it. If Ragor was bringing alien women to work in his sex clubs, that meant that Urak, Regent of Commerce, was likely involved as well – he would at the very least, be turning a blind eye to Ragor bringing in loads of alien women.
Having met and spent a little time with Paige – Baz's wife – I was reasonably sure that many of the women in Ragor's club were from Earth. As far as I knew, outside of Paige, humans and Optorions hadn't had any contact before Baz. And hadn't had any since – or so I had thought, anyway.
Humans were something of a more primitive species. One without the capability of traveling all the way out here to Optorio. And until Baz had made his fateful trip, Optorions had no cause to visit Earth. So to now suddenly have so many human females popping up on my home world – in relative secrecy, of course – it made me wonder a great many things.
For instance, it made me wonder how they were all getting to Optorio.
And who was behind bringing them in?
I had an idea – a very dangerous one at that. But it was one I'd been working on for a little while now. However, until I had more proof of what I suspected – what I was reasonably sure I knew – I couldn't do anything about anything. At the moment, all I could do was record my findings and ensure that no matter what, this story would not die.
I wanted this investigation to continue even if, by chance, something were to happen to me. Like say a Regent assassin breaking into my home and killing me in my sleep.
Call me paranoid, but in this new world order, things like that tended to happen to troublemakers. I'd seen enough to know that although I was admittedly, a touch paranoid, I wasn't entirely wrong, either.
And I was reasonably sure Ragor would view me as a troublemaker. Or at least, he was going to.
Chapter Two
Riley
“So what do you think, Riley? Are you up for a drink tonight?” Sam asked me, smiling pleasantly as we closed up the restaurant. “I hear there's a really good band over at Mahogany tonight. We should check it out.”
Sam was a sweet kid and I had no ill feelings toward him. Honestly, I had no feelings toward him at all, really. He was a typical small-town boy who'd been born and raised in Sapphire Bay. He'd played football in high school, and was good enough that he'd earned a scholarship to play back on the east coast.
And from what I'd gathered, when he'd left for school, he'd claimed he'd never be back. But there he was – working in his father's restaurant as my manager. Not that it was entirely his fault, but it just goes to show the foolishness of making declarations like that.
Sam had blown out his knee during his junior year and after that, his scholarship had gone the way of the Dodo – as did his opportunities to play football at the next level. Sam didn't have a plan for his life. For him, it was football or bust and he'd never taken his studies all that seriously. He'd truly believed that he'd be playing football professionally and hadn't given thought to a life without it.
Reality can come crashing down hard on you sometimes. And when it does, it can be a real bitch.
To his credit though, he could have been angry and bitter about it all, but he wasn't. He'd accepted that his dream had died the night he'd heard that fateful pop in his knee, but he'd somehow managed to maintain a positive attitude about his life. For the most part.
Once in a great while, I saw something akin to disappointment and sadness on his face – perhaps even a small trace of anger every now and then. But he'd always done a good job of hiding it and being positive and upbeat otherwise.
“Sam, you know I can't go out on a date with you. You're my boss.” I laughed it off as I finished wiping down the last of the tables in my station. “That would be so totally inappropriate.”
I'd used that excuse on him more times than I could count since I'd started there. But he remained undeterred and always came back, hopeful that he'd get a different answer. He was persistent and it was sweet in its own way. But even if he hadn't been my boss, I wasn't interested in him like that.
To be fair though, it wasn't him. Honestly, I wasn't really interested in any man like that. I was happy being single and in doing my own thing. But of course, men like Sam – or most men, really – couldn't understand that. Not without hearing my entire story, anyway. But who knew, perhaps even after hearing my story, he wouldn't understand it.
But there was no way in hell I was about to open up to him about all that. I preferred to keep the past where it belonged – firmly in the past. My story was my story and I wasn't going to talk about it. Not to anybody.
“Oh come on, Riley,” he said, leaning on the counter top, looking up at me with those baby blue eyes I was sure made many a heart melt in his day.
Sam was a good looking man, there was no denying it. With those heart-melting eyes, that strong and toned physique, and his Captain America good looks, I doubted he struggled with the ladies. In fact, I was pretty sure no girl had ever said no to him before, much less as often as I had. And maybe because of that, he was eager to turn my no into a yes.
Yeah, good luck with that.
“Not happening, Sam,” I said. “I have class early tomorrow and homework due. It's already going to be a long night. Sorry, babe.”
Sam rolled his eyes and sighed. He stood up straight and tried to flex a little bit, trying to give me a good view of the muscular body beneath that maybe too tight shirt he was wearing. He seemed to think his good looks would finally win me over and that I'd magically throw my panties at him or something. Maybe experience had taught him that was how things operated in his world. But if he genuinely thought that, it proved that he didn't know me. And that he was in for a big surprise.
When you got right down to it, I just wasn't attracted to him. Not in any sense of the word.
Sure, he was an attractive enough man. Tall, broad shoulders, well-built and with sandy brown hair and blue eyes. I assumed that most women would throw themselves at a man like Sam – and many probably had. There certainly was no shortage of cute little waitresses and hostesses in the restaurant he could have had a crack at. So, why in the hell was he all over me? I didn't get it.
I supposed that for many men, it came down to the chase. The challenge of conquering that which they deemed unconquerable. And the more I said no, the more he tried to win me over. Like he needed to conquer me. Like I was goddamn Mt. Everest or something.
I was starting to think that maybe it was time to start looking for another job. But the bitch of it was t
hat I liked working at the Lazy Hen Cafe. The Hen, as it was called, was a family-owned diner that focused primarily on making amazing tasting home-cooked meals. Some of the food there was a lot like the stuff I grew up on myself. And they had the best pie in Sapphire Bay – not that we had many pie places here, but I still liked to indulge in free slices now and then. Just one of the perks of the job.
But staying at the Hen also meant that I had to deal with the likes of Sam. And all the pie in the world – no matter how amazing it was – just wasn't worth that.
“You really need to get a life, Riley,” he said as I clocked out for the night. “All work and no play isn't good for you. Like they say, it makes you a dull girl.”
“Sadly, I don't have the luxury to have it any other way, Sam,” I said, gritting my teeth and doing my best to suppress the anger that was rising within me. “I don't have those options.”
“Don't you have family?”
I clenched my jaw and bit back the scathing reply that was dying to come flying out of my mouth. I had to resist telling him it was none of his business – even though it really wasn't. Instead, I decided the best – and safest – course of action was to just ignore him. I'd told him before that I didn't have family – none who were worth dealing with at least. For all intents and purposes, I was alone in this world. And for people like Sam – people who had the good fortune to have good family they could lean on – they'd never get it. They'd never understand what it was like to essentially be an orphan.
He'd never understand his privilege because he had it easier than I ever did. It was his daddy who'd given him a job after his football dreams ended. It was why he was a manager when he wasn't the least bit qualified for the job. He was barely qualified to be a Walmart greeter. But that was life. It was what it was. And I wasn't one who was going to complain. Even if I did seem to get shafted in the grand scheme of things. All I could control was what I could control and all I could do was play the cards I'd been dealt. Sitting around bitching and whining about it got me nowhere.
Fawks (Dragons of Kratak Book 4) Page 28
