When I see her face, all air leaves my lungs in a harsh breath. The utter terror on her face shocks me. I stand frozen in the middle of the entryway, with her only a few steps in front of me now. I can’t even form a coherent thought. I search her body, looking for any injury. Any bruises like last time, but don’t see anything.
“Muñeca, what’s going on?” I manage to get out. But before she says anything to me she launches herself into my arms. Despite our height difference, she gets her arms around my neck. I wrap my arms around her back, holding on tightly. While she sobs into my shirt, I loosen my hold to lower my hands to pick her up and wrap her legs around my waist. Usually this would be a sexual move on my part, but tonight it’s all about comfort. I move us to the couch. I sit down and start to rub my hands up and down her back, murmuring soothing words to her in Spanish.
After what feels like hours, she finally quiets down. Leaning back, she sniffles and wipes at her face. Even with her eyes red and swollen from crying she’s still the most strikingly beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.
“I’m sorry about your shirt,” she says on a sniff.
I run my hands up her back, bringing them to her face, pushing her wild mess of hair back from her face. “Please, tell me what’s going on.” Her eyes instantly cloud over.
“Is there any alcohol in here? If I’m going to tell you this story, we need a lot of alcohol.”
I move her off my lap, setting her on the cushion next to me. I gesture for her to stay. Not that she’s a dog or anything. But now that I have her in one spot ready to tell me everything she keeps guarded, I don’t want her running. I practically sprint to the fridge, throwing the door open and retrieving the first two bottles of stuff I find, which happens to be vodka and Crown Royal. I turn and open random cupboards until I find a shot glass. Perfect.
I walk back over to the couch and sit the bottles down on the coffee table It’s no surprise that she goes for the good stuff. She pours herself a shot of the amber liquid, throwing it back before pouring herself another.
She scrubs her hands down her face, then takes a deep breath. Almost as if she’s bracing herself to tell me. “My mom was a prostitute. Not long after I turned eighteen, she was murdered by one of her johns. At least, that’s what I tell myself.” She takes another shuddering breath. I keep my facial expressions neutral. I don’t want to judge, and I don’t want to scare her away.
“The Boss sent his apes after me, and after a long, drawn-out night I was forced to take my mom’s place. I’ve been being forced to have sex with guys for three years.” She finally looks at me, shame clearly written across her face. Her hands are pulling at a loose thread on the couch cushion, so I reach out and grab her hand. Trapping it between mine, lacing my fingers through hers, squeezing. Silently giving her the support she needs to go on.
“The time you came to my house and found me in my room with bruises, I was supposed to meet a last minute client. When I got there the Boss said he had a list of requirements he had to do to get me ready. That night I was raped by not one, but three guys. They did things to me that I’ve never done. Not that being a prostitute is right, but there are still rules and hard limits.
“I’ve tried to push you away, so I don’t get in trouble. The biggest rule for the girls is no boyfriends. But somehow, someone saw me with you and reported it. Last night I went for an appointment. When I walked in the room and he followed me in, I was pissed. I thought there was another john coming in who was going to hurt me.”
I’m so fucking shocked right now. She’s been living with this shit for three. Fucking. Years! I’m physically holding myself back from having an outburst. Her voice strengthens with each word spoken.
“He brought Kameryn in, that girl you saw me arguing with on campus that day, and made her and I strip. Apparently she had been having sex with a cop for coke. He … he made me eat her out while he fucked me in the ass while telling me I had to get her off before he got off. I did it. I went down on her. I don’t swing that way. And I just gave in.”
“Baby, you had to give in. That man would have probably killed you if you hadn’t!” I’ve kept silent long enough. I don’t think I can hear anymore of her story. I want to fucking find every goddamned person who has touched her and fucking end them.
“Please,” she says, in a calm voice, “let me finish.” Nodding my head, I signal for her to continue.
“He then brought in a lead pipe. He forced me to shove that up her, and fuck her with it, while he again fucked me. After he thought that went on long enough, he pulled my hand holding onto the pipe out. He made me hit her in the head with it, while he was holding onto it too. And he just kept fucking me.”
Each tear that streams down her face guts me. My heart is shattered after hearing this. “Muñeca, what can I do? There has to be something we can do, anything to get you away from them.”
Taking her hands and wiping the tears away, she tells me, “You don’t understand, there is no ‘getting away.’ They kill you when they’re done with you.”
I take my hands out of hers, and wrap them around her again bringing her to me. I just need to feel her right now. Her heart is thumping so hard in her chest I can feel it against mine. I kiss her head as I say, “We will figure this out. I won’t let you do this alone.”
I promise myself that I will get her out of it. I will do everything in my power to save her.
Chapter 18
She thinks she was sneaky getting a prepaid phone and getting ahold of that cop again. This girl is stronger than I gave her credit for. What was supposed to be slowly breaking her seems like it’s slowly building her up. Every time I see her, she has this look in her eyes—steel.
That’s not what I want to see. I need to see fucking fear. Fear of breaking. Fear of dying. Fear of losing. Not this new determination she has. But that just means I have to double my efforts to break this girl. And when she finally breaks, I get to finally fucking finish this nightmare.
Chapter 19
Devon
Anyone who would look into my life would judge me. That’s okay. We all do shit we aren’t proud of. I didn’t have a choice, and the deeper I got into this life the harder it seemed to get out. With Enzo by my side, helping me, I might have a serious shot at getting out alive. I never once thought I would survive my plan.
It’s been a couple weeks since I told him my story. I thought long and hard about whether I should tell him, drag him into this. The fact that he genuinely wants to get to know me and be with me shows me he isn’t working on Boss’s payroll. He’s never given me a reason not to believe him. And since he’s a cop, he has resources I couldn’t dream of having on my side.
Enzo has a friend he’s positive isn’t on their payroll either. This is going to be hard, but it will all be worth it in the end. We want to get video evidence of everyone in the operation that we can. I’m sacrificing myself for the greater good. If using me helps girls like me, who are sucked into this life, then so be it. How can I not help?
A car horn breaks me out of my thoughts. I’m walking back home from classes. I ran into Donato’s and grabbed a small personal pizza to eat when I get home. I’m juggling my phone and the pizza box in one hand, and some books in the other when my phone beeps telling me I have a text.
I stop to rearrange my shit. I glance at the screen and see it’s Enzo. I swipe the screen and eagerly read. This is pathetic, right? Should I be this infatuated with someone whom I really don’t even know, this soon?
Enzo: I texted your other phone, but you must be out still.
Me: Yeah, I’m just now on my way home. What’s up?
Enzo: Are you free tonight?
I know he’s really asking if I have an appointment tonight. We don’t really talk about it. We both really try to ignore that part of what I do. I let it go. After everything is over, we’ll talk about it.
Me: Yes, what do you have planned?
Enzo: I’ll text you where to me meet around 6? Is that
enough time for you to get ready?
Me: That’s fine, you sneaky shit. LOL
Enzo: You’ll have fun, I promise. See you later, sweetheart.
Me: Yeah, yeah. See ya.
I have two hours to get ready. That’s plenty of time to go from college laziness to date-like.
**
I’m just finishing getting ready when my phone chirps with an incoming text message. Eager to find out what exactly we’re doing, I grab for my phone.
Enzo: Meet the girls downstairs. They already know what’s going on.
Me: Wow. You really are being sneaky. Ready to tell me where it is we’re going?
Enzo: Nope, I’ll see you soon.
God. I seriously hate surprises. Surprises in my life have never been good. I walk over to the desk chair, and grab my jacket off the back of it. I shrug it on as I walk out the door and down the stairs.
And just like he promised, all three girls are waiting patiently in the living room. Well, somewhat patiently.
“Do any of you want to tell me what he has planned?” I ask them.
“Nope,” they all reply in unison. Fuck them. I stomp toward the front door and down the steps toward Pey’s car. I stand there, with my arms crossed across my chest, and wait until she unlocks the doors. When I hear the locks unlock, I yank open the door and slide into the car, slamming the door behind me.
The girls get into the car at a leisurely pace. Apparently my mood isn’t making them hurry. When Pey closes the door behind her, she turns around and looks at me. Narrowing her eyes, she says, “I get that you’re anxious. I know that you haven’t been on a date, well … since I’ve known you. But don’t let your attitude fuck up something that could be great for you. I’ve never seen you with a crush. It’s a good look on you.” She turns around and slides the keys in the ignition, starting the car.
I can always count on Pey to be the person to tell me something, whether I want to hear it or not. And of course, she’s right. I need to chill out. It’s not like I haven’t hung out with him before, so I know what to expect.
I get lost in my thoughts while we drive, so I don’t really notice where we’ve pulled into until the car turns off.
“The movies?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
Chuckling, Roni says, “Don’t ask us. Ask your boyfriend.”
Everyone starts to pile out of the car. I’ve been to the movies a couple times, though I prefer to watch movies at home. I’m a big ugly crier, and I don’t like to let people see me vulnerable. I’m the last person out of the car, and once the door shuts behind me Pey hits the button on her key fob to lock the car.
As we walk into the theater, I’m trying to look at all the posters on the wall. I’m trying to figure out what movie he brought me to see. When my eyes scan across the lobby and lock on a pair of deep brown ones, I lose all interest in the posters.
Enzo is seriously in a league of his own with his sexiness. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans that show off his muscular thighs, a light black jacket over a bright blue button up shirt, and his hair is styled in a messy fauxhawk. And when he smiles, I swear I want to melt into a pile of goo. He starts to walk over to me, but I stand frozen in place. Even when he walks, he commands the attention of every female in this place.
“Well, hello there. You look absolutely beautiful tonight, Devon,” he greets me. Placing his arm around my shoulders, he leans down and places a kiss on the top of my head. I’ve watched so many movies where guys do that and I always thought it was so cute. I’ve always wanted a guy who would kiss me for no reason.
“You clean up pretty well yourself.” I smile at him. My eyes haven’t strayed too far from his. They’re like twin pools of chocolate just waiting to suck you in.
“Are you ready? I bought the tickets already, and they have a concession stand close to our theater too, if you want food.” He starts to lead me in the direction of the person who collects the tickets. It seems like almost everyone that works here is really emo. The kid taking our tickets has hair past his shoulders the color of coal, he has on thick-rimmed glasses that are also black, and his eyes are rimmed in a black eyeliner. Oookay then.
“Tickets, please.” Well, at least he’s polite. Enzo hands him our tickets, and I realize I don’t even know what we are seeing. After we’re directed to our theater, we walk past the kid and I turn to Enzo.
“What movie did you pick for us?” Oh God. Please don’t be a sappy romantic movie.
“I really wasn’t sure, so I went with a comedy. Comedies are safe.” He turns his head to look at me and smirks. “Plus, I didn’t really want to have to hand over my man card just yet.”
Oh my God. I full on smile at him but don’t say anything back. I love this feeling, being myself. I don’t get to truly be me a whole lot.
We walk into the theater and take our seats. I like sitting in the front, so I can put my feet up on the bars. Have to try to be as relaxed as possible. Lord knows these seats leave a little to be desired.
“Do you want me to run back out and grab anything to eat or drink?” Enzo asks me.
“No, I’m alright. Thank you, though,” I tell him. He really does have the southern gentlemen thing going on. I sink down in the seat and prop my feet up on the bar. Enzo gives me a strange look and then follows my lead. He sinks down in his seat, too. He reaches his hand across and places his it on my upper thigh.
Immediate heat radiates throughout my body. I stare down at his hand, almost wishing he would move it higher. But remembering we’re in a movie theater, I try to calm myself down. I loop my arm through his and hold onto his arm. He’s still so much taller than me, even when slouching, that I can easily rest my head against his arm. For having all the muscle he does, he’s so damn comfy.
The opening previews start to roll, and every single movie looks good. I need more time in my life to go to the movies.
Once the lights dim all the way down and the movie starts to play, Enzo starts to run his thumb back and forth on my thigh, which takes my attention away from the movie and makes me focus on the heat pooling in my center. I can almost feel my panties dampen with my arousal. Christ, if all it takes to make me wet for him is to rub my leg, I don’t know what’s going to happen if we ever get around to having sex.
My head is still resting on his arm when his arm starts to move. He sits up in his seat a little and glances around him. Wondering what he’s looking at, I look too. Only to find that we’re the only two in the theater. Well …
He turns toward me, as much as he can and wraps his arm around my shoulders. He leans over, so I sit up a little more in my seat. His mouth finds mine, starting a slow assault on my mouth. Passionately kissing me, sliding his tongue along the seam of my lips, I open for him.
He brings his other hand to my thigh, but doesn’t stop. He slides his hand up to my core, and starts to stroke me through my leggings, which leaves little resistance for him. He doesn’t touch me for long, though. Just enough to get me a little hot and bothered before stopping. A sound of frustration immediately leaves my mouth.
A chuckle escapes his lips. “Muñeca, let’s watch the movie.” With that, he turns his attention back to the screen in front of us, giving the screen his undivided attention effectively ignoring the fire he started. Bastard.
Chapter 20
Enzo
She keeps fidgeting in her seat. A smile crosses my lips. I don’t plan on doing anything else with her except kiss her tonight. She’s leaving with her friends to go back home after the movie, anyway. I’m not taking her back to my house. I don’t want to push her too soon.
I would have no problems going home and worshipping her body the way she so desperately deserves. But that would be too soon for her.
I try to focus on the movie but she’s distracting. Her smell, her fidgeting, her palm hot against my hand. All of it. When the credits start rolling, I realize I couldn’t tell you what the movie was about. Turning my head toward Devon, I see her staring at me wit
h an eyebrow raised.
“What?” I ask as I stand up and stretch my limbs.
Shaking her head, she stands as well. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” She turns to walk away and I’m pretty sure I hear her mutter “jackass” under her breath.
“Hey! What did you just say?” I catch up to her and throw my arm around her shoulders. She glances up at me but says nothing. Shaking my head, I walk with her out to the front of the theater where her friends are waiting for her. “Why don’t you guys go pull the car up?” I ask, hoping they catch my hint.
“Oh, sure. Yeah, let’s go, guys,” Peyton says. They all shuffle out the front doors, leaving me with Devon. I turn toward her and she shifts so we’re chest to chest. Well, her head comes to about my chin.
“Did you enjoy the movie?” I ask her, reaching out and tucking a wild piece of hair behind her ear.
“Yep. Sure did.” There is a sarcastic edge to her voice that makes me smile.
“Are you free in a couple days? Maybe we can try to get together again?” I ask. I’m hopeful that she will say yes.
“Sure. Just let me make sure I have nothing going on.” Translation: She doesn’t have any jobs to do. My jaw clenches thinking about it.
“Okay, muñeca. I’ll text you tomorrow.” I lean down and press my lips against hers lightly. But she intensifies the kiss, running her tongue along the seam of my lips, wanting me to open for her. We stand in the lobby of the movie theater making out like teenagers for what seems like hours.
Only when a horn sounds from outside does she break away. She presses one more kiss to my lips and then she’s gone. She leaves me standing there with a hard-on like I’ve never had before.
Chapter 21
I often sit here, behind my desk, sifting through all the pictures of Devon I’ve collected over the years. Watching her grow up and turn into the woman she is today. And I feel absolutely no remorse over what I have, no need, to do.
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