Page 37 of Ruthless Protector

He still had hold of me, his grip on me painfully tight. I reached down, found my bag, and grabbed the cash. “Here.” I thrust it at him.

He stared down at it and his eyes went wild, furious. “What the fuck is this?”

“Five hundred,” I said, forcing myself not to shrink back when his rage-filled eyes came back to mine.

His face was so close that when he talked, his rancid breath washed over me. “It’s not enough,” he gritted.

“It’s all I have.”

He jerked his head back and forth. “That won’t do, Willa, not at fucking all.” He shoved away from me. “Get out of the car.”

I scrambled out, ready to run, but Trent was too quick and grabbed my arm.

“Let’s go,” he said.

I tried to wrench out of his hold. “Where? Where are we going?”

“Like I said, it’s not enough, so you’re going to have to give me something else.”

I tried to pull free again, a sick feeling hitting me so hard, I thought I might throw up. “You touch me, and I’ll fucking find a way to end you, I promise you that,” I said, fighting him with every step we took.

He sneered at me, his face a mask of disgust. “Dumb skank, I’d rather jerk off for the rest of my life than touch you. But if you want to keep Tilly to yourself, the price is a fuck of a lot more than what you just gave me.”

“What the hell do you want?” I wasn’t even trying to hide the panic in my voice anymore.

“I promised some people I’d provide a waitress for their poker game. The guy likes skinny whores like you,” he said, smirking at me.

“No goddamn way.” I fought harder.

He shook me, so hard my teeth rattled. “You don’t mind dressing slutty, you’re used to taking your clothes off, right, Willa? You won’t have any trouble doing it now.”

Oh God, he knew; he knew I was stripping. I kicked him in the shin, wrenched away, and took off in the opposite direction.

“You leave now, I’ll be paying Tilly a visit tomorrow,” he called out.

A cry tore from me, part rage, part fear, part resignation. I stopped running and gripped the chain-link fence beside me, gasping, trying to catch my breath, trying to calm myself down. I had no choice but to do this. For Tilly, I had to do this. Trent wasn’t bluffing, I knew he wasn’t, and I wouldn’t put her through that. “Just serving drinks?”

He didn’t answer my question and came up beside me. “I thought you’d see it my way.”

He tugged me back to the car, grabbed my bag, and held it out to me. “I take it you have something decent to wear in here?”

I did. Fay had made me several costumes, and I’d worn one for the first time today. A tiny stretchy mini dress covered in pink sequins. I snatched the bag from him. “Let’s get this over with.”

I got back in the car and he took us farther into the yard with the shipping containers. He drove until we came to a large building at the far end. There was a light going upstairs, and several other cars parked below. Trent climbed out and I did the same, following behind, scared out of my mind.

I glanced around, making note of the name on the building. If I had to make a quick escape, if I needed to call for help, I needed a way for that help to find me.

“Hurry up,” Trent barked, and motioned me inside, pointing to a restroom. “Get changed and be quick about it. And fix your damned hair and put on some lipstick or something. You look like shit.”

I rushed into the small dingy room and quickly changed, feeling sick to my stomach as I fixed my makeup and slipped on the skyscraper heels Steph had given me. I had no idea what to expect, what I was walking into, and my heart was racing so fast, I thought I might pass out.

When I came out, he gave me a quick onceover then shoved me toward a set of stairs. We headed up to the second floor. All I could think was, this can’t be happening. It had to be some horrific nightmare.

My heart was in my throat, my pulse racing, my knees weak. Trent was a low piece of shit, so whoever these people were, if he was involved with them, they were more than likely criminals, shit, gangsters, dealers, God only knew what. Things could go very bad for me, very fast, but I couldn’t see my way out of this.

We reached the door where two goons were standing outside. They were wearing suits and earpieces, and hard expressions. Trent turned to me and hissed, “Do what the fuck you’re told in there or you’ll pay, understand?”

I wanted to stab him to death with the four-inch spiked heel of my shoe. Instead, I nodded. I knew a desperate man when I saw one.