I need Marcum gone. I just need a few minutes to breathe away from him. When he held me a minute ago, whispering to me… he was almost tender. My body reacted to him in a way I wasn’t expecting. I don’t understand it. We don’t even like each other. Why, when he kissed my face, did it feel like I had electricity running through every nerve ending in my body?

The last thing I want is to be alone with my father, but if it gives me a minute away from Marcum and the strange way I just reacted to him—then I’ll do it. Once the men file out, Marcum is the last one.

“Toi,” he calls out and I look over at him, even though I don’t want to. He holds my gaze in his and I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. “Five minutes and I’ll be back,” he says, and I can’t figure out if he’s being protective or warning me. I’m left feeling even more confused.

“You tangling with Marcum now? Shit, I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you. If I’d known that I wouldn’t have tried to save myself by dealing with the Garcias, I’d let you protect your old man by spreading your legs. Tell me, are you Marcum’s private play toy, or are you seeing to it the whole club gets a piece?”

It’s been a long time since his words had the power to hurt me. Still, these are so vile, they make my stomach turn. I look at him, and not for the first time I wonder how he can be my father. I feel nothing when I look at him—except distaste. Still, I don’t respond to him. He’s not worth the pain or the effort it takes to talk.

“You get in a fight with one of Marcum’s regulars?” he asks, motioning toward my face. I touch the spot on reflex. It was burning before Marcum touched it. “You might be smarter than I gave you credit for,” he continues. He leans back in his chair, watching me. “You might have some of me in you after all,” he says, with a sleazy smile. It takes great effort to stop myself from showing my disgust on my face. If he sees how revolting I find him, he might lash out. My hand goes to my throat.

I’ve learned the hard way to avoid those outbursts.

“I am sorry about that you know,” he says, motioning to my throat. “You just do this stupid shit to get me upset. It’s your fault really.”

I bite my lip, resisting the urge to try and scream. The beating that all but stole my voice from me happened because my alarm clock went off to wake me up for work that morning. He only heard it because he had picked the lock to my bedroom and was standing over my bed staring at me. The look in his eyes when I woke up is one that still scares me. There are times I wake up in the middle of the night, reliving that morning. The fact that I have that much fear inside of me, makes me feel…. ashamed.

“Still,” he continues, as if he’s being perfectly logical—as if he’s not a monster—"I feel bad about everything. I want to make it up to you.”

I can’t keep the disgust out of my gaze this time. I don’t even try. There’s nothing he could do that could possibly make this up to me.

Nothing.

I don’t reply.

“It’s my fault Marcum and his gang have their hands on you and you have to know Toi, there’s no way I’m going to be able to pay him back.”

I swallow down the bile. I knew. I also knew he didn’t care what that meant when it came to me. Would Marcum move me away from Desi, Harley and the other kids to become a club whore then? I’m not stupid about the way the world works, and specifically the world Marcum and his men live in. I was stupid to hesitate. Nothing good ever lasts and Desi and Harley and my connection with them…is definitely good.

I have to leave, before everything is taken from me.

“A friend of mine used to live here—until they discovered just what kind of man Marcum really was.”

I tune him out. The irony of my father disliking anyone for the person they truly are—is not lost on me.

“They gave me this,” he says and he reaches under the band of his wristwatch and hands me a key. It’s mostly a key. The sides have been cut so it makes it rectangular and small in shape… a shape easily concealed. It sits on the table, the tarnished silver shining.

I clear my throat.

“What is it?”

“The key to the back door out of this place. I’m going to tell you where it is and you will use this key to escape tomorrow. There are two guards out front, but I have a diversion planned for them. I’ll distract them while you get free. My friend will meet you and drive you to the nearest greyhound station with a ticket out of here, and enough money to get you settled.”

“Why?” I ask, not sure I trust him, but seeing a glimmer of a chance to finally live my own life.

“I figure I owe you. Consider this my gift and one that makes us even.”

I stare down at the key and then back at my father. I’m not sure I should trust him, but I literally have nothing to lose.

I reluctantly reach down and capture the key. When my father smiles at me, I suddenly feel like I’ve made a deal with the devil and I’m really terrified of what he’s going to require in payment.

“My friend tells me almost every evening after eight, Marcum visits with his two youngest brats. While he’s doing that, you follow my instructions and you’ll be a free woman.”

“What instructions?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I should—especially when my father looks like he just won the lottery.

Shit.