Page 9 of Archer (Dirty Misfits MC 3)
The hell was that?
“Are you an actual breakfast eater? Or a leftover breakfast eater?” Archer asked.
My stomach growled. “Is there any more of that soup?”
He grinned. “Oh, there’s plenty. I had two bowls with some buttered toast myself.”
“That sounds fantastic. Can I have some?”
He stood from the edge of my bed. “A big bowl of soup and some buttered toast, coming right up. Be back in a few.”
After he left my bedroom, I slid gingerly to my feet. It hurt just to move because my joints were so damn stiff, but I made it into the bathroom. Peeing was a venture, mostly because it hurt to bend my body and wipe the way I needed to. So, I decided on a very long shower after I ate breakfast in order to make sure I really got myself clean enough.
But I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror and paused.
The bruises around my eyes had grown deeper in their color with time and the cuts around the frame of my face looked swollen. I sighed as I tilted my head off to the side, taking in the ligature marks that seemed to spider with little cracks beneath my skin.
“Jesus,” I whispered.
“Josie?” Archer called out.
I eased myself out of the bathroom. “Sorry, I was just cleaning up a bit.”
He set the tray of food on my bedside table. “It’s here whenever you’re ready for it.”
I walked back over and crawled back into bed. “So, how long do you think I need to stay here?”
He blinked. “What do you mean?”
I snickered. “Do you always answer questions you don’t like with other questions?”
He clicked his tongue. “You’ll stay here until you’re better.”
“Yeah, so when my pain goes away.”
“It would be better if you stayed until your bruising went away, too.”
I shrugged. “Well, as much as I’d like to, I can’t. I have a job to get back to and money to make.”
His eyes widened. “You’re not seriously thinking about going back to that place, are you?”
I took a bite of the soup. “I don’t have a choice. It’s my job, and while stripping is wonderful and rakes in a lot of cash, I’ve only got about three months in savings before I’m in serious trouble. And I’d like to not dip into that as much as possible, since I’m trying to save up to buy my own place one of these days.”
He shook his head slowly. “You’re crazy if you go back there and work for those assholes.”
I scoffed. “Did you hear anything I just said? I have to work. I have to make money. That’s how shit works in the real world.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“You’re acting like you don’t. So, I’ll ask again: when is the soonest I can get out of here? Does Cole know?”
I wanted more than anything to get back to my normal life. I wanted more than anything to get back on that stage and feel strong again. Feel powerful again. But Archer didn’t seem to be a fan of the notion.
Not like I cared, but still.
Archer licked his lips. “Why don’t we leave that question for after you’re done with your pain pills? You can’t strip well while high, I’m sure, and you’ve got nine more days of the stuff. So, let’s get through those pills and see how you feel. Yeah?”
I sipped my soup again. “It’s a deal.”
He didn’t get up, though. Instead, his eyes lingered on me before he spat his next question out.
“Was this your first encounter with the new owners?”
I kept my gaze turned down into my soup. “Not particularly. I mean, I’d seen them in passing, especially when the previous owners were giving them tours of the place. I didn’t like the way they looked at us, though.”
“How did they look at you?”
I’d never forget their faces as long as I lived. “Like we were disposable, almost.”
His hand settled onto my shin. “Do you have the stomach to tell me why they were beating on you in the first place?”
I blinked back tears and reached for a slice of toast. “They were trying to take fifty percent of what I’d made that night. Fifty percent, can you believe that shit? We already give five percent of what we rake in and put it in a fund that pays out the bouncers and shit like that. But another fifty on top of that? I told them no fucking way, and if it got me fired then so be it.”
“And they decided to hurt you instead.”
I shrugged. “Because I guess we are disposable to them.”
“Tell me again why you want to go back to this place?”
I shook my head. “I don’t expect you to understand. I only expect you to respect it, all right?”
He stood to his feet. “Whatever. It’s your death.”
His words shocked me so badly I dropped my spoon into my soup. I whipped my head up, sending a ricocheting slab of pain racing down my back. I grunted as I watched him storm out of my bedroom, slamming the door behind him in the process. And as I listened to him storm down the hallway, my jaw slowly unhinged in shock.
