chapter 52

Charleigh

Whack.

The first strike knocks the wind out of me.

Whack.

The second causes a muffled yell.

Whack.

And all those that follow leave me screaming for mercy.

Thank God I’m wearing blue jeans, which undoubtedly absorb some of the strikes.

After ten or so smacks—I lose count pretty quickly—Kir places his open palm on my bottom and rubs it in soft circles. The sting from the spanking is still there, but changes somehow. It hurts.

But also feels good.

“Do you think you can behave now? Not interfere in business that’s not your own?” he asks.

I don’t say anything, afraid of giving away the strange pleasure I’m experiencing.

In the absence of an answer, he fists my hair, wrenching my face to his. I claw at his painful grip but my efforts are useless. The only thing that works is when I finally answer his question.

“Y… yes,” I sputter.

“Yes what?” he growls.

“Yes, I will behave now.”

He sighs and Vadik takes me by the underarms, hoisting me to my feet. I am lightheaded from my head hanging down, and for a moment, I hold onto him until I’m steady.

Good god, he’s solid. Unmovable. Like holding on to a mountain. And when I lift my head to look at him, his blue eyes sparkle like he’s an actual human being. Which I know he is not.

We return to the front of the store, where Niko watches my father, now slumped in a chair, I’m pretty sure with tears dripping from his face.

Pops does not look at me.

“The contract is on the counter there,” Kir says, gesturing to the glass case where pawned jewelry is kept as a weak attempt at security.

Pops tried to give my mother a piece once, a gold bracelet someone had pawned, but she refused it. She didn’t want anything that had come from some sort of distressed situation. When she put it that way, I felt the same. Too much bad juju. After that, I never tried on any of the jewelry again.

But he did once give her something he bought new. At least he said he did. And I have it now. Not that he knows. Or has ever noticed.

“Um, contract?” I ask with an involuntary squeak.

I look at the brothers, and then my father. No one responds.

“You’re coming to work for us, Charleigh. Your father has signed the contract. This will all but erase his debt. Now you need to sign.”

I scowl even as my behind stings from my spanking, a rush of fearlessness surging through me. “I’m not signing anything.”

Kir looks at me like he wants to hit me. Like no one ever challenges him. Or if they do, they don’t live to talk about it.

I want to drag my fingernails down his handsome face, leaving raw streaks of ripped flesh. Something that would hurt like hell, but what appeals most is how it would hurt his pride.

That, I would enjoy.

“I wouldn’t sound so cavalier if I were you, Charleigh,” Vadik says. “Your father has offered you.”

That’s a lie.

I look at Pops, who alarms me by doing everything he can to avoid my gaze. “No. No, Pops. You didn’t.”

He continues to look down, balled up in shame, and nods his head the tiniest bit. Just enough to let me know that yes, my very own father has sold me out.

How… how could he do this? In what world does this happen? And to me? I’m on the brink of a new life. I don’t have time to work for these guys, whatever it is they want me to do.

My own father. I might not expect much of him, but this?

I clasp my stomach like someone punched me in the gut. I want to double over and sob, then beg, beg to be left alone.

The three brothers, handsome as they are, watch me coolly. There’s no compassion in their eyes, nor pity. Just apathy. And indifference so ugly it almost takes their good looks down a notch.

Almost.

“What… what the hell can I offer you?” I ask, trying to steady my voice as I look from one man to the other.

“Sign here,” Kir repeats.

I pick up the pen thrust in my direction. I’ve never seen such a grave, determined expression on someone’s face. And yet, I need to push one more time to try and help myself.

“What if I don’t?” I say, mustering all the haughtiness I can.

Kir glances at Pops, then his brothers. Then me. “Well, we understand you have another sister. She might be kind of young but…”

Evie?

My stomach, already in bad shape, lurches and I can taste the bile that doesn’t want to stay down. No, not Evie. Never Evie.

I’ll die first.

“Fuck you,” I spit at them.

Kir releases a booming laugh. “Those are big, dirty words for a virgin.”

What did he just say?

He slowly approaches me, running his fingers through my tangled hair. I jerk away, and so he grabs a fistful, like it belongs to him.

Does it?

“Not only can we take your sister, Charleigh, but we will probably have to shoot your father, too. Right between the eyes.”

This time, my legs buckle, but I am kept from reaching the floor due to Kir’s grip on my hair. The pain is excruciating, and my vision is littered with funny dots of different colors and sizes, and I wonder if this is what it’s like right before a person passes out.

“Up,” he roars, pulling me by the hair.

A sob escapes. Then another. I lose my shit like I never have before, and ugly cry in front of all of them, and I don’t care. I wail as my face distorts and I have snot running from my nose. I am breathing so hard I choke and cough, and no one does anything to help me catch my breath. The worst of it, though, is the pain in my chest where my heart is breaking. I clutch myself there, like I might split in two.

No one helps me.

No one is coming to help me.

* * *

Charleigh

In the farthest corner of the limo that I can, I bury my face in the expensive leather seat. The driver guns it, picking up speed, and I know we are on the freeway without even looking. I don’t care where we are going. It doesn’t matter. All that does, is that I’m being taken away.

I curl myself into a ball, a shell that will keep these men away from me. And yet, in the confines of the limo, their words easily reach my ears, no matter how much I want to drown them out.

“With a little work, she’ll do quite nicely.”

“Small tits, but what can you do?”

“Hey they’re better than those giant things so many of the girls have these days.”

I want to crawl away in shame at their offensive evaluation.

Actually, I want to die.

I don’t know what lies ahead, but I do know it can’t be good. And the fact that my father has completely and totally sold me out is a pain I’m not sure I can live with. My heart hurts. It literally hurts.

Even worse than when my mother died.

We pull up to what must be the guys’ place of business, an old warehouse-looking building with blacked-out windows, and they direct me to a door, also painted a dull black with no exterior handle. If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was another abandoned building in a bad part of town. But when the door opens from the inside as if someone’s watching for us, a statuesque woman ushers us in. For a moment, I wonder if she’ll help me. Another woman will surely understand my plight, won’t she? So, with Kir’s death grip still on my arm, I head straight for her, getting as close as I can. But when I see her eyes in the dim light, really see them, I realize I am well and truly fucked.