CHAPTER 4

LAURA

"Let me out," I begged. "Please…"

My voice was now a shaky whisper.

It had taken less than ten seconds for me to realize that the door wouldn't open unless he wanted it to. But he smiled at me like he didn't want it to. He enjoyed watching me panic. Watching me beg.

My survival instincts flared so violently that I no longer cared what I looked like.

"Please, let me go. I'm sorry," I babbled, tears welling in my eyes.

"Sorry about what, dove?"

Dove?

Fucking dove?

Was that what he saw me as? A fragile fucking bird he could just squish?

His relaxed smile was all the answer I needed.

Yes.

Yes, he did.

And God, if I wasn't…

"It's fine, sir. I get the message."

Sir?

Yes. I was tripping.

He chuckled loudly, shifting in his seat to get a clearer view of me.

"God, you're beautiful," his low, deep voice commented.

His calmness suddenly triggered something inside me.

Anger.

"Let me out!" I screamed, slamming my hands against the front of the car. Tears ran down my face, blurring the mascara around my eyes.

His laughter rumbled through the car.

"Okay. If you say so."

His smile slowly faded.

"But I warn you, I don't give empty threats."

I dragged in a deep breath.

I knew he wasn't bluffing.

But it didn't matter right now. All that mattered was getting out of the same space as him.

The moment I heard the door click, signaling that the lock had been released, I immediately grabbed the handle, shoved the door open, and spun out of the car.

The night wind crashed against my skin as I ran back toward the place he had driven me from.

I didn't stop until I saw the blaring, colorful lights of the club in the distance.

I staggered through the back gate, breathing heavily.

Now that I was back, I actually started noticing things I hadn't paid attention to earlier.

Cars lined the street, their dark silhouettes stretching beneath the neon lights. Men and women crowded around the entrance, laughing and smoking.

For a second, everything looked normal.

Until I noticed the number of naked bodies.

I halted. I stood there scanning the area in utter disbelief. I never knew people could have sex so openly. In booths, in corners, like nobody was watching.

"How much?" a male voice asked from behind me.

"One thousand." The lady responded.

I swallowed.

Why not just dance? I thought, then immediately criticized myself. No judging.

We were all hoes now, and it was only a matter of time before I was back here doing the same thing like the rest.

I swung my head backward to remove the excess hair from my face, which was now glued to my sweaty skin. After a tiny sniffle, I returned my gaze to them.

The girl was already on her knees, his thick cock stuffed in her mouth while she sucked and stroked her hand along the rest of his length.

My eyes widened.

Jesus Christ.

I turned away quickly before I started looking like a desperate pervert.

And immediately I was met with a worse scene.

A huge cock was slamming into the back of another blonde against a Bugatti booth.

I jerked my head away.

Okay, keep walking. Just keep walking.

Then I suddenly had the thought.

Look.

I had to actually see.

So I slowed down. If I was going to do this, I needed to know what I was getting myself into.

Everywhere I turned, bodies smothered against bodies.

The men all had their heads thrown back, their faces flushed with lust, their moans filling the air. Women moaned beneath them. Others detached.

Nothing like what Damon looked like.

The thought came so suddenly I halted.

Nothing like Damon. His face had been so calm. So fucking calm while I panicked.

I'm bad at this, I decided.

"Hey!" Someone called, jolting me out of my thoughts.

"You do this?"

He gestured with his head towards people fucking behind him.

I shook my head.

He chuckled.

"Why? Aren't you a whore?"

I scoffed.

Why wasn't this as offensive as it was when Damon said it? Maybe it was because he didn't look at me like Damon had.

"Well, I am, but I'm new here."

"Who cares where you make your trade? A sailor in the Atlantic is still a sailor in the Pacific."

He bent down to take another drag from his line of coke.

My eyes followed him.

This was a whole new world.

"Well, I ain't a sailor," I said, feigning fake confidence, "and I'm ready to give it up for the right price."

"Of course you would," he laughed.

He was laughing at me this time.

Not with me.

I straightened up, refusing to let the humiliation show.

I had already decided on this. And worse, I wasn't about to allow what happened the previous night to repeat itself.

"Can I try some?" I asked, trying to act cool.

"Girl, if I give you my snow, you're gonna have to give it up for free."

Oh… hell no.

I walked away.

"How much?"

He gripped my arm.

I looked down at his fingers, then slowly back at him. "Five grand," I responded, both pushing my luck and trying to act experienced.

I could watch and learn.

It couldn't be that hard to force a dick into my mouth. I'd just think of it as a hotdog.

And… my virginity should at least be worth this much.

I swallowed the bitterness gathering in my throat.

"Three grand.”

His eyes glazed over me lustfully.

"And some snow for the plot."

This fucking junkie.

"But you've got money," I said, taking a slow step toward him. "Five grand is chicken change for you, isn't it?"

He laughed hysterically before crouching to line up another line of coke.

My heart thundered in my ears. I was scared. Really fucking scared. But there was no going back now.

Five grand was a lot.

Not the eight hundred that Keisha had threatened me with. Shit, both the eight hundred and the five grand still wasn't close, I thought, fighting back the anxiety clawing at my senses.

"Show me how to do it again."

He bent down and snorted a line, then made another one for me.

I did exactly as he had done, but I was answered with a sharp, stinging sensation that made me squeeze my eyes shut.

"You're a fast learner," he commented. "Try one more time."

I raised a hand and signaled for him to wait, but he grabbed onto my hair and forced my face down into another snort.

Alarm shot through me, but violence was sometimes part of the job.

I mean, Keisha had bruises too.

I rubbed my tongue across my upper lip, tasting the bitter residue.

Whatever this was, it burned.

But somehow, the noise around me seemed quieter.

"You're a natural," he sneered down my neck.

I squealed, trying to get myself out of his grip, but his hands were too firm. I knew I had to get out, but I couldn't.

He made another line and forced me to lick it.

"Ew. That's disgusting," I said, giggling.

I didn't want to giggle.

"Well, you're disgusting too." His stupid laugh was beginning to make me uncomfortable. "What? You can lick the balls of men you've never met before, but my Porsche is too dirty for you?"

He slammed my face into the car. Now I was terrified.

"Let me go."

"Not so easy, bitch."

Disgust suddenly started creeping through my veins.

"Let me go," I repeated, but he completely ignored me.

"How did a fine thing like you end up here?" he breathed.

His hands found my bosom.

"Get off me!" I squeaked in pain, but he didn't stop.

What should I do? I thought, my adrenaline pumping. I did this to myself.

"I… I can’t do this," I murmured to myself.

"Yes, bitch. You can do this," he repeated loudly.

"No. I don't want to," I said out loud. I really didn't want to.

I was getting weaker. The drugs had taken effect.

"I don't want this. Stop, please."

He didn't listen.

He was feral.

I stretched out weakly toward the nearest person for help.

He didn't care. Instead, he stared right at me and slammed harder into his slut.

"Hey! Hey, let her go!"

Keisha's voice came through.

She clung onto his shirt and pulled as hard as she could, but her heels gave her very little balance.

"Help," I cried weakly.

"Bitch, are you high?"

I nodded weakly, still trying to wriggle out.

Aren't there security? How can this be happening publicly?

Maybe it was because they all saw me approach him. They'd seen me dance naked, and now I was screaming like I had dignity. Like I was worth saving.

I'm just a damaged girl who's probably going to die in a few weeks.

Nothing was worth it. I could barely keep my eyes open anymore.

"I'm sorry for teasing you…" I cried weakly. "Please, let go."

"Shut up, bitch!" he yelled, struggling to drag my shorts down.

He shoved Keisha aside and continued.

I had given up on the fight when suddenly he sprang away from me.

I fell face-first onto the car and tried to pull myself together, but I was too weak.

I staggered and slowly turned to face the most terrifying sight.

Damon.

He was hitting the man uncontrollably across his face. Blood poured from his nose and mouth. Damon's hands were covered in it.

His face was empty.

Just blank as he drew him closer to God with each blow.

"Stop!" Keisha screamed. "Stop, please! If you kill him, the stigma will be on us forever. No one will ever get close to us anymore."

He nodded his head slightly and continued.

"Stop," I forced out.

"Stop, please."

He threw me a sideways glance. This time, there was something in his expression. I squinted my eyes through the blur to see clearly.

Disgust.

I swallowed.

"Are you okay?" he growled.

I scoffed, tumbling into tears.

If he truly felt disgust, why ask if I was okay?

He clearly didn't care.

I buried my face in my hands and wept quietly.

"I…I need…" I choked. "I need some money…"

His expression softened into something else I couldn't fathom, nor did I care to.

"We're gonna die if I don't get that money," I cried louder and crashed into his arms.