My first reaction was to tell the dumb fuck to get the hell out of my face and give him twenty-four hours to come up with the rest. Then I saw the way he treated his wife. I might not have been the most upstanding citizen but that didn’t mean I didn’t have my own set of morals; one being that you never treated a woman the way Tolley just had. I couldn’t even call him a man.
In my business, I often skirted the edges of right and wrong. It was the way things were. Yes, I’d been known to use violence as a means of getting what I wanted, but it was only ever as a last resort. The way this woman flinched when he spoke, like she’d been lashed with a whip, made it clear that this was not an isolated incident.
I looked her over. She was pretty, and had the potential to be a knockout if treated right. Her hair was a deep shade of brown, the harsh lighting catching the red highlights, and her eyes were the deepest chocolate color, but she was thin, a little too thin in my opinion. Tolley, on the other hand, looked like he could stand to lose about twenty pounds.
There was no rhyme or reason as to why the words left my lips. I didn’t need another person to take care of, especially someone as meek as she appeared to be, but the sight of tears rolling down her face was somewhat compelling. Someone had to save the poor woman.
“Here’s the deal. She’ll stay with me for the next three months.” I heard her gasp, but continued. “During that time, you’re going to find a way to come up with another hundred thousand dollars. If not, I come after you.”
“Deal.”
The words left the bastard’s lips before I’d even finished. Fuck, the guy was unbelievable. What kind of man was he to give her up so easily? The woman tried to control her tears, but her shoulders continued to shake with sobs even as Dominic walked over to her.
“You better do whatever he says so he doesn’t come after me. If he wants you to spread your legs every hour on the hour, you’ll do it.”
Blood roared through my ears listening to him talk to his wife that way. I waited for her to stand up to him, to say something, but she simply nodded, not a word leaving her mouth. Enough was enough.
“Dominic, get the fuck out of my sight before I let Brock here have a shot at you.”
His eyes widened and he scrambled for the door, leaving one very scared woman in his wake. Brock watched him leave, then turned back to me. “What now?” he mouthed.
I waved my hand at him, giving him the signal to take a break, and seconds later the door closed quietly behind him. I walked over to the woman who had become my responsibility for the next three months.
How the fuck do I get myself into this shit?
Her eyes were downcast. I reached for the bag in her hand and the second my fingers brushed hers, she flinched. “Let me have your bag, then we’ll get you something to eat.”
Thankfully, we were in a club box and had a chef catering to our every whim, otherwise the poor girl would be stuck with ballpark food. Good, yes, but she’d had a rough enough day. She let the bag go and I set it on the ground next to the chair I’d been sitting in. I pulled another chair close. I didn’t want her to think her only choice was to stand until we left.
I would have taken her home right then if I didn’t have another client to meet with. It wasn’t often that I dealt with two in one night, but I wanted more time in the restaurants and doubling up here made that easier. Besides, I had some arrangements to make. She didn’t move, and remained rooted to the spot.
“Elena, wasn’t it? Come and sit down.”
When she still didn’t move, I rested my hands lightly on her shoulders and waited to see her reaction. She flinched but didn’t push my hands away and I guided her over to the second chair.
I didn’t blame her for not trusting me. Even though I could only surmise as to what she’d been through, the grass on my side of the fence was no greener; of that I was certain. As much as I’d tried to steer clear of this life, it had claimed me—at least for the moment, and staying alive in this life meant becoming someone I didn’t like. When I thought back on the things I’d had to do to make it, it made my stomach roll. And that was coming from someone who grew up the way I had, knowing the things I did. I was not a good guy. She was right to be wary. I would never hurt a woman, but she didn’t know that. She was surviving the only way she knew how.
Just like me.
“Are you hungry?”
Finally she looked up, her big brown eyes haunted and shimmering. She shook her head. “No, thank you.”
For most women, I would see that as them throwing a fit because they hadn’t got their own way but from the small glimpse I’d had of the way Tolley treated Elena, I knew this was instinctive. She would respond to orders and directions. After tonight, we’d work on getting over that, but for now though I was willing to give in. It reminded me of the way my uncle had treated my aunt, at least until my dad got hold of him. No motherfucker was going to treat his sister that way. Dad raised my brother and I to respect women. He said men who didn’t would get theirs. Seeing Uncle Dave in his wheelchair, a permanent fixture, was enough to convince me of this fact.
“Elena, I’m guessing this is not what you expected when you came here tonight. Hell, this isn’t what I expected, but you need to eat. You’re here for the next three months. You can’t starve yourself until Dominic comes back for you.”
“If you want me to eat, I’ll eat.”
Once again, she made it clear if I said jump, she’d answer how high. That shit was going to end, starting tomorrow. “I’ll get you the menu.”
“Menu?” For half a second she looked interested in something besides her own misery.
“Yes, menu. This is my personal club box. We have a chef to prepare meals outside of the normal ballpark food.”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
I shook my head. “No. You’ll pick what you want to eat.”
The menu sat on the table next to my scotch. The fifth I’d poured was definitely not going to be enough. I handed her the menu and walked over to the bar. I didn’t need a bartender to pour me a scotch on the rocks. The ballpark made sure to keep my favorite, Glen Livet, on hand. Pulling out the bottle, I watched Elena scan the menu like she wasn’t sure what she was looking at.
“Would you like something to drink?” I gestured to the bar when she looked my way. “You name it, I have it.”
“Oh, Dominic says I shouldn’t drink. It makes me crazy.”
“Well, Dominic’s not here, and I don’t think one drink is going to make you go wild and start dancing on tables. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’ll help calm your nerves.”
“If you think I should.”
Permission again. What the fuck did he do to her? “I do. If you don’t normally drink, how about a glass of wine?”
“Okay.”
I grabbed a bottle of white wine from the cooler and poured a glass. Handing it to her, I looked at the menu in her lap. “Did you decide what you want to eat?”
“Whatever you’re going to have is fine.”
Elena’s eyes hadn’t moved from the floor since her piece of shit husband left. She was subservient and submissive; two things I liked from a woman, but only in the bedroom.
“Elena, when was the last time you ordered your own meal?”
Her head lifted. Her eyes were dazed. “Dominic doesn’t take me to restaurants. He says I don’t look nice enough to take out.”
Fuck, it kept getting worse. While the dress she wore didn’t fit her very well, she had an appealing face. First thing in the morning, I was going to get her set up with some new clothes, and some other appointments. I had a feeling the poor woman had never been pampered a day in her life. It struck me that the reason she sat before me was because her husband owed me money, yet I thought nothing of spending some on her.