Never Love An Outlaw (Deadly Pistols MC #1)(8)

My heart started pounding. I stood up, only to feel him throw me back down against the shitty bed, the flimsy mattress snapping against my spine.

“Don't do this, *! You have no idea who you're dealing with. You will pay, one way or another. My family won't let me go. My friends know where I disappeared. We can't be that far from town, somebody'll come looking and then you'll regret the night you saw me in that forest.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you're not the first bitch to say that, trust me. You're just the richest little cunt I've ever had in here.”

The richest? For the first time I lifted my head up and took a good look around.

The door to the small room was cracked. Ricky sensed my hesitation, and he marched over, flinging it open. Across the hall, there was another room, also with its door wide open.

A dead-eyed, gray-faced woman sat on a bed, wearing nothing but cheap heels and torn stockings. She took a long look at me, pushing her long greasy hair behind one ear, and then turned back to her arm as if seeing a beautiful young woman with hot tears running down her face was completely normal here.

That passive, defeated look told me everything about the hellhole I'd fallen into. So did the rubber band around her arm. And so did the syringe she stabbed into her vein a second later, pushing it deep, until the junk hit her system and she let out a loud, heavenly moan.

“You starting to understand? A girl like you must have a fancy education. You're not stupid. Take a good, long look, bitch. That's your future. Only I ain't letting you have none of that junk. Gotta keep you happy and healthy for top dollar.”

I lost it. I couldn't bear to take another look at the miserable woman, holed up just like me, and I couldn't stand for the pimp to see me cry either. I buried my face in my hands, letting the hot tears come, until he pinched my shoulder so hard I looked up.

“Stop crying, beautiful. I won't let you get hooked on shit. You're too valuable to me. Shit, I'm gonna make every boy who comes in here use rubbers too. I'm not letting anybody f*ck you up with damage, drugs, or disease while you're working off your rent. You'll be treated like a queen compared to these other junkie whores.”

I shook my head again. His cruel words blurred together, becoming incomprehensible. What the f*ck was he getting at?

“What is this place?” My heart dropped another inch as I said it.

Deep down, I already knew.

Ricky stepped forward, wearing the same serpent smile I'd come to know too well, the one that strangled me, poisoned me, killed the woman named Megan.

“You kidding? Haven't you ever seen our billboards? Or are you one of those bitches who pays more attention to texting on her phone than the damned road when she's going down the highway?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He slammed it against the wall, smoothing it out before he pressed it into my shaking hands.

It took everything not to retch when I saw the outrageous, neon letters and overdone whore with her lips pursed on the cover.

LONG HAUL? COME UNWIND AT THE BIGGEST, BADDEST, HOTTEST TRUCKER SPA IN EAST TENNESSEE!

A trucker spa. A dirty, ditzy f*cking whorehouse. And now that I was on the inside, it was even more miserable and soul crushing than I'd ever imagined.

“Jesus...help me.” It was the last thing I whispered before I took off running, flying into the cramped little bathroom attached to the beat up room.

Ricky held me like he actually cared while I spat out my guts. He reached over me when I was finished, flushing the bile down, a loud, harsh sound like the end of my life.

“There, there, baby girl. Be good for me. Get it all out of your system. Your first clients are coming this afternoon. I need those pretty lips clean and healthy for their dicks. I'll bet you suck a mean cock.”

I wanted to vomit again, but there was nothing left in my system. “Don't do this. Please. I'm a virgin.”

That got his attention. Ricky's eyes flickered, and the nasty smile he wore disappeared. He crouched next to me on one knee, grabbed my head, and pulled me close, until I was only inches from his evil face.

“You gotta be shitting me. A rich party cunt like you?”

I nodded, feeling my whole body shake. I didn't know if I was making another huge mistake, or telling him the only thing that might save me, but I was way past caring.

I had to get out of this. I didn't belong here. Megan Willow Wilder wasn't ever supposed to be reduced to sucking off strangers in a creepy f*cking trucker's spa.

If only I could delay him, trigger some mercy deep inside him...

But when I opened my eyes again and looked at him, his eyes were small and black. Cold, cruel, lifeless as coal.

“If I find out you're lying to me, bitch, I'll f*ck you myself. I swear it.” He reached for my chin, digging his fingers in so hard I could feel him on bone. “Last chance. You telling me the truth, or are you just f*cking around?”

“It's true,” I muttered, my voice cracking as more hot tears came.

“Fuck. I never believed in miracles before, but I'm starting to think somebody up there loves me.” His sick smile reappeared, and he looked right through the ceiling, before turning back to me with the same vacant expression as before.

“Okay, Meg, here's what we're gonna do – you'll put those lips to work like a good little girl and earn me some money to keep you fed, clothed, and sheltered. In the meantime, I'll do my damnedest to land you a permanent home. It's out of my control the day I've got a buyer, but as long as you're here, I promise it'll be sane, sweet, and easy.”