by Moore, Lila
“I know what you’re thinking. I couldn’t care less about these fight clubs. What I care about is my son getting beaten within an inch of his life every night for sport. All I want is to get you out of this mess you’ve put yourself in.”
“Not just me.”
“Who else?”
“Riley.”
“Is she the one who put you up to this? Was it her idea? I’m not surprised. If I hadn’t married her mother, she’d be nothing but trailer park trash.”
Without thinking, I push my dad. He lands hard against the wall. To my surprise, he doesn’t look angry, only surprised. I’ve never gotten physical with my dad before. We usually get along. Insulting Riley crosses a line that I didn’t even know existed.
“Fighting was my idea. Riley had nothing to do with it. She wouldn’t even know about it if I hadn’t fucked up. They took her to punish me. We have to get her back.”
My father starts to straighten his clothes and brush off the back of his pants as if the room has contaminated him with filth.
“Riley’s not my concern. My responsibility is to my son.”
I’m trying to resist the urge to punch him when he walks past me and opens the door.
“Ivan,” he says, addressing the Russian like they’re old buddies. “I want you to see that my son gets to the airport.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“You’re obviously not capable of taking care of yourself. Ivan will look after you.”
The Russian smiles. His front tooth is chipped.
“Ivan will take you to the airport,” my father continues.
“Where are we going?”
“Las Vegas. I thought I’d send you on a vacation while this blows over. Your friend Ivan offered to escort you.”
“He’s not my friend and I’m not leaving Riley behind.”
“I’ll deal with Riley.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Ivan will find her. Won’t you Ivan?”
“It would be my pleasure-for the right price of course.”
“Of course.”
“You’re a fool if you trust him,” I say.
“Ivan helped us out tonight. He took a dive for you.”
“What? I thought you said Tony paid you to take a dive?”
“I lied,” Ivan says with a shrug. “I was trying to get you to follow me. I assumed that when you learned your father paid me to let you win, you’d be angry and leave without hearing what he has to say.”
“You’re not wrong about that. I can’t believe you paid him to take a dive. I’ve won my last ten fights on my own. I didn’t need anyone to bribe the other guy to lose.”
“Are you sure about that?” the Russian says with a smirk.
I push him hard. He crashes into the wall with a thud. I want to wipe the smirk off his face, but he makes no move to fight me back. Is it because my father’s in the room? The Russian’s smarter than I realized. He doesn’t want to risk losing the money my father promised. If-and it’s a big if-he managed to kick my ass, my father probably wouldn’t pay him the money he was owed. Of course, the Russian could always threaten to tell Tony that it was my father who called the cops, blackmailing my father.
“I saw you fight,” my father says. “You were good. For a moment, I was proud. Then I remembered where I was. No son of mine is going to be involved with gangsters and underground boxing clubs. With my money and connections you could have been anything you wanted and this is what you chose? It’s not too late. Put all this behind you, go back to college and move on. I can get you a job working at my firm. I’ll introduce you to some nice girls from good respectable families.”
Translation: girls who aren’t like Riley.
“I’m done,” I say. “Keep your money. I don’t want to see you again.”
“Son…”
I walk out of the room into the dark. I’m on my own now. I have no idea how I’m going to get Riley back, but I have to. It’s all on me now.
Riley
The woman waits with me in Tony’s office. I want her to leave so I can search the room for a weapon. I’m not letting Tony touch me. If I have to kill him, I will. At least, that’s what I try and tell myself. I’ve never been in a fight before. I’m not sure I have what it takes to stab someone.
“The things people do to survive,” the woman says.
For a second, I think she’s responding directly to my thoughts. Then I see she’s moved over to the window. She’s staring down at the scene in the brothel below.
“When you look at those girls you see whores. That’s not what I see. I see survivors. You’d be wise to take notice. They could teach you a thing or two.”
“You’re wrong. When I look at those women I don’t see whores. I see victims. Most of them were forced into this life through no fault of their own. They’re captives of the lifestyle.”
The woman laughs quietly and regards me over her shoulder.
“You think that’s funny?” I ask. “I’m a literal captive here, and I doubt I’m the first.”
“Many of these women come to Tony begging for a chance to work here. Do you have any idea how much money they make?”
“I don’t care about money.”
“Of course you do. Everyone cares about money.”
“Whatever their situation is doesn’t change the fact that I was forced to come here and…”
“And…?”
“Just look at me.”
I uncross my arms from in front of my chest for the first time since putting on the negligee. The woman gives me a bored look.
“So?”
“It’s dehumanizing. I’ve been turned into a sex object and not a very good one,” I mutter.
Why Tony thought I’d make a good addition to his brothel was a mystery to me. I’d caught a glimpse of the girls he employed. They were skinny with tans and huge fake tits. They looked like they were trying to turn themselves into Barbie dolls. I’m a pale, curvy girl who’d spend the rest of her life in yoga pants and sweatshirts if she could.
“What is that?”
A hint of an accent purred at the edge of her words. I couldn’t place it, but it was strangely seductive.
“What?”
“When your tough exterior disappears the little girl emerges. You think you are ugly? Fat? No man would want you?”
“Don’t mock me. My situation is bad enough.”
“Do you think those women down there care about what you think of them?”
I don’t answer.
“You could learn a lesson from them.”
The door swings open and Tony enters. I never thought I’d be grateful to see him, but I’m desperate to get out of this conversation. Then I remember how I’m dressed. Tony gives me an appraising look.
“Better than I thought,” he says.
What does that mean? He expected me to look terrible? Of course. I cross my hands in front of my chest. Maybe the Madame was right. I could learn a thing or two from the girls here. The women who work in the brothel put up with worse than this on a daily basis and they survive. I was going to have to toughen up.
“Leave,” Tony says, dismissing the Madame.
She gives me a look that almost resembles sympathy. For a moment, I almost feel connected to her. Then I remember who she works for. I don’t want to be left alone with Tony, but even if she did stay behind, it wouldn’t matter. Tony sees me as his property now.
I watch as she saunters out of the room like a cat. I wonder how long it took her to master that walk. I roll my eyes.
“You girls playing nice?”
“I’m not here to make friends,” I reply.
“No, you’re not.”
The coolness in his voice is frightening. This is all business as usual for him.
“So, why am I here?”
“Turn around,” he says with a smile. I don’t move. “Are we going to play this game? When I tell you to do something: do it.”
“I’
m not playing a game.”
“Good. Now turn around so I can get a look at you.”
I close my eyes, then slowly turn in a circle. I brace myself for criticism or a smartass remark, but it never comes. I open my eyes to find Tony sitting behind his desk.
“What kind of experience do you have?” he asks, as if this is a normal job interview.
“Excuse me?”
“With men-or women. Tell me about your sex life.”
I stare at him blankly. I am not having this conversation with anyone, let alone my kidnapper.
“If you’re okay with fucking your stepbrother you must be in to some kinky shit.”
I turn around and run for the door. I throw the door open and run straight into a bodyguard. Crashing into his chest is like running straight into a brick wall. I stumble back and he frowns down at me. The man grabs my arm and leads me back into the room.
“That’ll do,” Tony says.
The man releases me and leaves.
“You’ve got a nice ass, nice tits. The guys will like you.”
The room feels like it drops by about thirty degrees. I start to tremble and hug myself tight.
“I’m going to be good to you,” Tony continues. “I’m going to pay you well. Eventually, you’ll come to love this job. Now take off your underwear and let’s get started.”
Liam
I jump into the waiting car. I wanted to drive, but the Russian wouldn’t let me. He was under strict instructions to drive me to the airport. We were supposed to fly to Vegas for a ‘boy’s trip.’ That’s not going to happen and the Russian knows it. As soon as we leave my father behind, I turn to him.
“I’ll double whatever he’s paying you.”
The Russian scoffs dismissively. “Triple. When your father discovers that I have burned him, he will not be happy.”
“Why would he find out? As far as he knows, we’re on our way to Vegas. Keep his money. Go to Vegas. I don’t care. But before you do, I want you to take me to Tony’s.”
The Russian accelerates then takes the exit towards the airport.
“What are you doing?”
“We are being followed.”
I start to turn to look behind us.
“Don’t look,” Ivan snaps.
I glance at the mirror instead.
“Black SUV two cars back,” he says.
I can’t see who’s in the car. It’s too dark.
“My Dad doesn’t trust you to take me to the airport?”
“Would you trust you?”
“No,” I admit. “We’ll lose them at the airport. You can go to Vegas and do whatever it is you do for fun. I’m going to need your car, though.”
“It’s not mine. You can keep the car.”
I figured the car was stolen or on loan from my father. Either way, I’m going to ditch it as soon as I rescue Riley.
“What do you plan on doing?” Ivan asks. “Are you going to bust down Tony’s door, guns blazing, like some kind of cowboy?”
The truth is, I haven’t thought that far ahead.
“Use your head, rich boy. You’re outgunned.”
“Since when do you care about my safety?”
“I don’t. But if you die, your father may decide not to pay me. Your death could create a problem for me.”
“I’d hate to inconvenience you by dying.”
Ivan made a gesture as if to say ‘it’s no trouble.’ I couldn’t figure out if he was joking, or if he didn’t pick up on my sarcasm.
“There are better ways to go about rescuing your girl.”
“Like what?”
“I will save her.”
“What?” I can’t stop myself from laughing. “You?”
“For a price; I will help. You cannot walk into one of Tony’s whorehouses. The guards will be on alert for you. I will go in, request your girl, then sneak her out.”
“What about our tail?”
Tony suddenly turns onto a side street. He takes a hard right, then a fast left. A screeching of brakes behind us makes me jump. I turn to see that our tail has crashed into an alleyway dumpster in a vain attempt to follow Ivan’s erratic driving.
“You will pay?” he asks.
I nod, reluctantly. I hate the idea of putting Riley’s life in the Russian’s hands.
“Good. Then I will save your girl.”
Riley
I’m left alone in a red room. There’s a bed with velvet sheets and a single heart-shaped pillow in the middle. Everything looks clean, but the sight of it gives me the chills. The pillow reminds me of something you’d find in a little girls room.
I pace around the perimeter of the room like a caged animal. I run my hands over the walls; they’re solid. No two-way mirrors. At least I won’t be watched. It’s a small comfort.
To my relief, Tony didn’t decide to ‘break me in’ as the Madame put it. Of course, I didn’t tell him that I’m a virgin. When he asked about my sexual experience, I lied and said I’d slept with a few men.
He seemed satisfied. He had the Madame escort me to this room. She told me to wait. My first client would be here soon. My imagination ran wild with what was to come. I imagined creepy men with wild eyes and leering grins; violent outbursts as they took turns forcing themselves on me.
I shake the thought away. The men I’d glimpsed in the brothel looked surprisingly normal. Most of them were businessmen in suits, or average looking men dressed casually. This was even more disturbing. How many so-called ‘normal’ guys are harboring dark sexual fantasies?
I was getting ahead of myself. My imagination was running away with me. There was no reason to assume these men were violent perverts. I’m sure most of them just wanted to get laid. They would take whatever they could get.
The best I could hope for was that my client was gentle and the experience was over with quickly.
The bedroom door opened. A huge man with wide shoulders entered. He wore black athletic pants and a black t-shirt. It was not the outfit I’d expect a man stopping into a brothel to wear.
My eyes drifted over his body slowly. His thighs bulge with muscle below his track pants; his arms are veiny and big. His face-
“Shit,” I whisper.
I recognize him instantly. It’s the Russian-the man Liam knocked out. He smiles, revealing two chipped teeth. His eyes have dark circles around them and his lip is split. He took quite the beating, but he doesn’t look bothered. He strolls into the room casually and closes the door behind him. His eyes drift over my body.
Back in his office, Tony ordered me to take off my underwear. When I refused, he laughed like a jackal. He’d rushed at me suddenly and I thought he would rip my underwear off and have his way with me. Luckily, the Madame walked into the room.
“I have checked her,” she said with a bored affect.
“She clean?”
“She’s clean.”
Tony looked at me the same way the Russian was now. I could see him imagining what I looked like naked. The Russian’s face twists with a look that I took to mean he approved.
He takes a step forward; I take a step back.
“If this is your way of getting revenge against Liam for knocking you out-”
His face sours. It’s probably a bad idea to bring up the fight.
“It’s best you leave now. If you lay a finger on me, Liam will kill you.”
The Russian runs a hand over his face. His knuckles are split and bloody. The image of his big, dirty hands passing over my body flashes through my mind. Strangely, heat stirs inside me. What would it feel like to lie beneath him as he positioned himself between my legs…? The idea shouldn’t excite me, but it does.
I try to snap myself out of it. This man is a violent thug. He’s probably here to get revenge against Liam. The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Why do I have to suffer the consequences for Liam’s behavior?
“None of this is my fault,” I say pathetically. “Liam dragged me into this. I know you don’t care, b
ut…”
“I believe you. Your stepbrother is…” He mutters a Russian insult.
“You can say that again.”
There’s a knock at the door. I’m so tightly wound that I jump and scream. The Russian eyes me with an amused look. He walks over to the door and opens it as if he’s expecting someone. The Madame stands on the other side.
“Just checking in.”
“Checking in?” The Russian sounds angry. “What is this? Do you think I’m a little boy? That I need Mommy’s assistance?”
The Madame looks flustered. “I-no, of course not. I was simply stopping by to make sure you have everything you need.”
She shoots me a withering glance.
“I can handle this little girl. You mind your own business. If I need something I will let you know.”
The Russian slams the door in her face before she can continue. I take a small amount of satisfaction in watching him shut her up, but it’s short-lived. He turns on me.
“Let’s get started,” he says.
I’m frightened, but something inside me comes alive. There’s danger here and yet, I’m wet. My chest rises and falls quickly. I can barely breathe. The Russian examines me with a smile.
“Do I excite you?”
I shake my head no, but my body says yes. He leans forward as if to kiss me. I hold my breath and close my eyes.
“I like a bad girl,” he whispers in my ear.
My pussy starts to pulse at the sound of his raspy voice. His Russian accent adds an edge of danger to his words.
His hand rests on my stomach. I gasp at his touch. His skin is callused. He’s the kind of man who spends a lot of time working with his hands. I look down at the dried blood covering his knuckles. His hands are huge and filthy; they make my stomach look small.
“Have you ever been fucked by a man like me?” he asks.
He doesn’t give me time to respond.
“No, of course you haven’t. Unfortunately for you, you never will-at least not tonight.”
I open my eyes. I must have a confused look on my face because the Russian laughs.
“This way.”
He takes my hand and kisses it, then leads me to the door.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
