Skin Deep (Station Seventeen #1)(51)

“That’s a very pretty name.”

“Oh. Thank you,” she said, speaking more to her patent leather platform pumps than to anyone else.

Isabella tried again. “I suppose that explains your tattoo.”

Now that she was closer, she realized the ink on the woman’s shoulder depicted a curved line of feathers shaped into an angel’s wing. Not a small victory, since it likely meant Angel was her real name.

The woman nodded, chancing the slightest glance in Isabella’s direction. “Yes.”

Background chatter and pleasured moans from other party-goers filled the quiet between them as Angel fiddled with the silver chain at her throat, and damn, getting this girl to come out of her shell was going to take some doing. Not an easy task in front of all these people, one of whom had to be the man forcing her to be here.

Time to get more private.

Isabella smiled. “Well, Angel, my friend and I were wondering if you’d like to spend a little time with us tonight.”

Angel’s head sprang up. “With both of you? Like, together?”

Shit. “We were just hoping we could get to know you better,” Isabella said. As if to underline her no-pressure request, Kellan let go of her arm to take a step back on the marble floor, putting a nice-and-easy smile on his face.

Thankfully, it seemed to do the trick. At least for now. “I’ve just never done it with a woman before. Not yet, anyway,” Angel said.

Isabella’s heart pumped faster with hope, but she waited out a few beats of the music before taking the opening. “So you’re new to parties like this?”

Please, please, let her not be too far in to try for a way out.

Again, Angel’s eyes went wide, and she swung a look at the man over by the piano before stiffly moving toward Isabella and running an awkward hand over her shoulder. “Yes, but you don’t have to worry. I like to try new things, and I’ll do whatever you want. You wanna get high first? We could shoot a little H before I make you happy. I’m up for anything.”

Isabella shook her head, catching Angel’s hand with her own. The words were intended to be sexy, she knew. But they fell short of their mark like an overly rehearsed line from a B-grade porno, and Isabella felt Walker’s body go tense beside her.

She reached back with her free hand and squeezed his forearm to keep him—and maybe herself—steady. She couldn’t reject Angel outright. With all the cameras in this place, someone was bound to notice.

Isabella moved her hand to the girl’s shoulder, trying to make her touch as comforting as possible while keeping up pretenses. “You don’t look too happy to be here, Angel.”

“I could look happy for you, if that’s what you want.” Panic streaked over Angel’s face, and Isabella scrambled to regain what little ground she’d gained.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” Angel chewed her lower lip, leaving streaks of dark red lipstick on her teeth. “I could…I could cry instead.” Again, her gaze darted toward the piano. “Some people like that. It turns them on when I cry. Or I can do whatever you and your man want me to. You’re the guests. I’m here to serve you.”

“No, no, no. I didn’t mean—” Isabella forced the emotion in her chest to stay the hell away from her face. Just because they were somewhat tucked away over here and Kellan had her back didn’t mean she could give her emotions any wiggle room. The job was more important. Always. “I only meant that if you’d like to take a break, we can go into one of the private rooms and just talk.”

“He’s always watching.”

“Excuse me?” Kellan asked from over Isabella’s shoulder, his voice soft with concern.

Angel tipped her head just slightly toward the man with the scar on his forehead, who was now roughly encouraging the blond in the blue dress to dance with a man who looked twice her age. “Franco keeps an eye on us girls from out here, but Mr. DuPree watches the private rooms with hidden cameras to make sure we’re doing our jobs. We’re not…” She paused for a wince. “We’re not really supposed to tell the guests that, though.”

Isabella’s stomach tightened. Damn it, she should’ve figured the bedrooms would be under just as much surveillance as the rest of the place. “That’s okay. We won’t tell anyone you said anything. You won’t get into any trouble.”

“Angel.” Walker kept his tone low, probably as much to keep from spooking her as to avoid being overheard. “Do you know if Mr. DuPree listens to what goes on in the private rooms too? Or does he just watch on the security feeds?”

She edged closer, although cautiously. “I don’t know. But he’s not watching because he wants to keep me or any of the other girls safe. He likes to see us work. The rougher, the better. You take me to a room and don’t fuck me or make me fuck you, he’s gonna be mad. And you don’t want to know what happens when he gets mad.”

“No, you’re right,” Isabella reassured her. “I don’t want that.”

Angel leaned in toward Isabella, her expression growing panicked. “So can we please just go fuck now? I promise I’ll try my best. I’ll do whatever you tell me to. Just don’t make him mad. He cut me off from my stash, and I…I need the fix, okay? Please.”