Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
"There’s no way Sandra owes you a hundred thousand dollars! She’s practically still a kid! This must be some kind of mistake."
"No mistake, sweet tits," says their leader, his wide grin missing two teeth. He's built like a boulder, with blurry tattoos wrapped around his left arm. There's nothing underneath his leather vest, unless you count his hairy belly and the grip of a gun sticking out of his belt. The other guys call him Crusher. "Hundred fucking grand, and interest's ticking. Tell us where she is, and we won't blow your fucking head off. It's not you we want."
"Speak for yourself," says the guy holding me. He squeezes my breast roughly through my T-shirt. I whimper, and my skin crawls, but I'm not exactly in a position to fight back. "She feels pretty damn good to me."
Swallowing hard, I shake my head—only barely so the guy with the itchy trigger finger doesn’t get any ideas. "Sandra’s been in rehab for months. She just got home a few weeks ago. There’s no way she could owe you a hundred grand."
When I was sixteen, the old Mayor’s daughter got kidnapped by bikers. It turned out the men he claimed took her were really part of some plan to expose his crimes, but even before it came out that the mayor was the real criminal, the news reports made the kidnappers look really sexy. Like bad boys living wild and free with their own rules.
But if this is what they’re really like? Yeah, I'm going to stick with the good guys from now on.
If I live.
"Do you think we're fucking stupid?" Crusher steps so close I have to turn away from his sour breath. "Those places are like Club Med for junkies hiding from all the shit choices they make. Your little sister's in fucking trouble, baby. Where is she?"
"Why should I tell you? So you can hurt her?"
He pushes the muzzle out from under my chin and grips my jaw forcing me to face him. "You sure you want to get mouthy? Right now all I want is her, and if she behaves, she'll get a chance to work it off. She's not as sweet as you, but she’s young and that’s enough for a lot of guys."
The realization of what he means slaps me right in the face. "That’s sick! She’s eighteen! You can't—"
"We'll do whatever we fucking want. We're not the ones in fucking debt here. Is she good for the money?” he asks, voice dripping with sarcasm.
I look away.
“Didn’t think so. If she wants to get out of this with all her fingers and toes intact and her teeth still in her mouth, she'll do exactly as we fucking say." His eyes widen with a sick glint, like he's getting off on the idea of forcing a young girl into sex work.
The air starts to smell burnt. "The oven!"
"Turn it off before the alarm goes," Crusher snaps to one of his goons, then brings his attention back to me, his beady eyes narrowing. "I tried being nice, but I don’t got all night. How about we start breaking your fingers, one at a fucking time, until you tell us where that little cunt is?"
Tears slide down my cheeks. God. Could Sandra have really hidden something this big from me? Maybe I’d’ve believed it a couple years ago, but she’s been so proud of finishing rehab. Studying every night for her GED. The way she did her best to be good, even when she ended up at that bar.
There’s no way she's gotten herself back into trouble. Not so soon. But one thing's for sure. If these men get their grubby fingers on her, they’ll drag her right back into her old life and this time she’ll never have a chance.
I squeeze my eyes shut, because I’ll never find the courage to do what I need to do if I’m looking at his cruel face. I've always been her big sister, the one who caught Sandra each time she got in trouble and needed somewhere to land. The one who dropped everything to help her get her life back together, because I love her. I thought I was done rescuing her.
Turns out I was wrong.
"Take me instead."
Crusher laughs, and it's a horrible sound. "No shit? You wanna take your little sister's place? That's fucking noble. Or maybe you’re not as innocent as you look. Maybe Sugar here wants a ride on the wild side. Sample some real cock from some real fucking men. Never underestimate the quiet ones, right boys?"
The laughter from his friends makes my stomach churn. Ugh.
But I keep my mouth shut. Getting shot now wouldn’t help either of us.
"Of course I don’t want to, but if I go with you, you’ll leave her alone, right? I—I can work off her debt.” Please God let me find a way out of this, but even if I can’t, I won’t turn Sandra over to these guys. Not now. It would break her, and it would kill me to know I stepped aside and let it happen.