Chapter One
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Mia
Pretend.
That’s what I have to do. That’s all I can do. In this snake’s den, they can smell fear, sense any small vulnerability that can be exploited.
I wipe the innocent doe look from my face, tighten my jaw and lower my eyebrows, and pretend. I pretend that these aren’t very, very bad guys. I pretend that the ungodly amount of liquor they’re consuming isn’t out of the ordinary, and neither is the guy crushing up pills in every one of his shot glasses. I pretend they aren’t killers and thieves, and ignore the fresh gash that runs diagonally across the pill crusher’s cheek. I pretend I’m not certain that the guy who did that is dead.
I tell myself that the warehouse hidden in the industrial part of town doesn’t give me the creeps. The dim, hazy glow that hangs just above the card table isn’t foreboding at all. I don’t ask myself where the nearest police station is.
This is all worth it. Just one night will pay for one month’s rent. Just one night. And all I have to do is pretend.
The bartender loads up my tray with shots of vodka. I hesitate, watching the clear liquid ripple in the small glasses. The bartender gestures impatiently. I lift the tray carefully on my shoulder, and teeter towards the card table on my impossibly high heels.
I pretend the skimpy red dress I’m wearing isn’t showing half of my ass, and that it doesn’t ride up even further when I walk. The goosebumps spreading across my chest and the top of my boobs aren’t from fear, but the cold draft sweeping through the open space.
I circle around the card table, slipping the drinks in front of them so quickly they don’t notice me. I’m quiet as a mouse, invisible. The men are engaged in a story told by a man with a clean shaven head. His eyes light up as he mimes dragging a knife across his throat. The other’s respond boisterously, shouting in the gruff language I don’t understand.
My tray is nearly empty. I’ve almost gone unnoticed. When I get to Pill Crusher, he turns and grabs the shot from my tray. I should turn and go quickly, but I’m caught staring at the dried blood that’s nestled in the wrinkles of his cheek. He gives me a sickening smile, then gestures to the wound on his face, murmuring something in Russian.
I push the terror from my face with a forced smile, and nod politely. When I turn to leave, Pill Crusher grabs my wrist, sending the empty tray toppling to the floor. I pretend my ankle doesn’t twist painfully when he pulls me towards him.
I bang into the side of him. He twists my arm around my back, pinning it there. His lips open and close wetly as he talks, trailing his eyes up and down my body. I pretend my nipples aren’t standing stiff against the thin fabric of my dress, and that he doesn't smirk when he sees them. I pretend he’s not going to drag me into the back room, like the other men have done with the other girls.
Pill Crusher reaches down and grabs a big handful of my ass. I don’t want to dig my nails into the gash in his cheek. He abruptly shoves me away, and turns back to his card game. I retreat back to the bar, pretending I’m not wholly relieved.
I fiddle around the bar, trying to look busy. Out of the corner of my eye I see Dani. She’s a master, a professional. I watch her chat flirtatiously with a man with a spider tattooed on his face. She twirls her long dark hair and bats her lashes. When he makes a move towards her, she presses her hand against his chest with a giggle. He watches her ass as she turns from him and slinks towards me.
“How’s it going?” Dani asks, squeezing my arm. The bartender slides a tumbler of bourbon in front of her. She picks it up and takes a sip. “I told you it was easy money, didn’t I?”
I nod, pretending I agree with her. When I speak, my voice croaks. I clear my throat and drop the pretense.
I grab her arm and whisper in her ear. “Dani, these guys are scary as hell.”
She rolls her dark eyes. “What did you expect? I told you this was the mob.”
“Shhh,” I say, my eyes darting around the room.
Dani laughs, a light, tinkling laugh. “It’s no secret to anyone here.”
“I’ve just never…” My voice trails off as I look to the card table where the men have erupted in loud yells. The bald man stands and triumphantly smashes a beer bottle over his head. Blood drips into his eyes as he beats his fists against his chest. I exhale forcefully, then turn back to Dani. “I’ve never been around these kind of people before. I’m not supposed to be here.”
Dani’s lips twist, and her smile disappears. “None of us are supposed to be here, but here we are.” She downs the rest of her drink, then slams it on the bar. “Can I tell you something, Mia? Once I stopped being the victim, I wasn’t one anymore.”
I turn towards the bar, ignoring her gaze. What she says doesn’t make sense. I don’t have a choice, never have. But I don’t tell her that. Dani’s been carrying my ass for months now, paying my share of the rent when I couldn’t come up with it. The least I can do is suck it up and make some money.
Dani sighs apologetically. “There’s nothing wrong with doing whatever you can to take care of yourself. It’s good money, really good money for a night’s work.” She nudges my side with her elbow. “And you can make even more if you’re willing to do some overtime.”
My face twists with disgust. I immediately wipe it away, wondering if I’ve offended Dani. She just shrugs her shoulders and walks back to Spider Face.