Chapter Four

Tamatha

I guess my John was a smart man. After making sure I was fed, he got my blood screened and my sex checked. I hadn’t popped positive on any of the free STD tests since I’d been taking them, but he thought enough to keep himself safe. Though it also made me realize he planned on getting inside of me in ways I didn’t know I wanted—bare, with nothing separating us. I’d heard the doctor talking about birth control options, but it was more of an aside instead of asking me. An intrauterine device, shot, or implant? Had to wait until the results. I stayed silent and watched him, waiting. The doctor faded, and my legs still shook from my ride in the Phantom.

Benecio confused me. He took me off the streets and outright lied about the outcome. Each of his threats still rang in my ears, and I had no doubt he meant each one. And yet, while I fought him on the floor of his car, he’d brought me up a brilliant, shattering cliff before tossing me off the top—then held me through my freefall. The shock of it still reverberated through me as the doctor closed the door behind him. No man had ever cared about my pleasure. For so long I thought something was wrong with me, that I was part of a percentage of females who felt very little during sex. With Alec, it was always about what he wanted, and my virginity had always mattered so much to him. That was until … I wiped the memory away. No, I wouldn’t think about him and all he’d taken from me. How, after him, the only thing I had left was to disappear on the streets and sell myself to keep food in my stomach. He’d been right about one thing, at least. The only thing I was good for was a tragic lay; I wasn’t even worth the nut wasted on me.

“Tamatha?”

I turned, blinking at the woman who suddenly appeared at the side of the bed. She didn’t look at my uncovered form but kept her soft, green gaze locked on mine.

“Yeah?”

“My name is Rene, and I’m here to get you cleaned up. Can you stand up for me?”

It wasn’t like I had that much of a choice, and to be honest, I wanted to be clean again. Part of me needed to wash the crudeness of the streets off me and feel marginally human. The flame of embarrassment streaked through me as I realized Benecio had touched me when I’d been so disgusting. So I let Rene, with the perfectly-styled brunette hair and smart pewter pants suit, lead me to the bathroom. I could have died when I saw it—marble and gold fixtures, with a large whirlpool bath full of steaming water, the delicate scent of vanilla wafting through the air. How she’d done this while I’d been trapped in my head, I wasn’t sure.

Something must have showed on my face because she smiled. “Had it ready when you were heading into the hotel. I let the doctor do his thing first. Now it’s my turn. It’s gonna take hours, but I’ll turn you from Streetwalker-Daville into Tamatha again.”

I glared at her description of me, but her wiggling eyebrows took away the sting of what she’d said. “And how do you know who Tamatha is?” I asked her.

“The woman who’s standing in front of me. I’ll let your body tell me what it needs,” was her reply.

I sighed with relief as I slid into the hot water and sank down until the bubbles covered the bottom half of my face. How long had it been since I’d had a bath? Months? Years? My time on the streets blurred into a seamless number of days and cocks after a while. Rene didn’t seem to mind. She took off her jacket, exposing a black tank top underneath, and reached for a scrub pad that look like it’d hurt.

Fuck me, it did.

No part of me was sacred. She scrubbed me down, from the tips of my head to the bottoms of my feet. I swore each pass of the green pad took off layers of skin, but Rene was stronger than she looked. Even when I struggled and tried to cover my sensitive breasts, she held me off and went about her business with mechanical efficiency.

“Out of the tub,” she ordered. I was too happy to oblige. But, apparently, she wasn’t finished.

She marched me over to the shower and started working on my hair under a scalding spray. The scrubbing over my scalp felt much better—like heaven, actually—and I leaned into her touch. Dirty water cascaded over my skin, ruining her beautiful job of scraping me clean, and I feared she’d start again. But once she had deep conditioner in my hair, she washed me with a softer sponge over and over until the water was nearly running cold. Then, she finished my hair and pulled me out.

Teeth chattering, I followed her back into the bedroom, where she had me lie on my stomach in the center of the bed. I’d never had a massage before, but I could get used to the work, if it were anything like this. After a brief pause when her gaze noted the scars on my stomach, Rene massaged lotions and oils into my skin, until I felt soft and supple. She didn’t ask, and I was grateful. Those scars reminded me of the hell I’d gone through. How I’d almost lost the one thing that ever mattered to me. But, most of all, they were badges of honor I wore to prove I was stronger than I looked. When she finished one side, she had me flip over.

“Now for the hard part,” she told me.

“The scrubbing wasn’t the worst?” I squeaked.

“Oh, love, beauty is pain.”

Her tinkling laughter didn’t prepare me as she got out what looked like a tiny rope and twisted it between her fingers before placing it against my left eyebrow.

“Deep breath,” she ordered.

I sucked in a breath as she started to twist and pull the rope near my skin. Fuck the scrubbing, I wanted to murder her. But she was too close to my eyes to risk it. I let her work, plucking the hair from my eyebrows until, I assumed, they were perfectly arched. But the bitch didn’t stop there. She did my underarms, arms, and legs, before she pried open my thighs to reach in between.

“No!” I yelled.

“Mr. Rey’s orders. I won’t remove it all, just taper it. He wants some left. But honey, you don’t have a choice. Fighting will only mean I’ll have someone come in here and hold you down, and Mr. Rey will be displeased.”

I trembled, already knowing what he might do was far worse than what Rene had done. Benecio Rey. His name didn’t ring any bells with me, but I hadn’t been born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I’d only tasted a plastic one, and brushed elbows with the social elite for a short time in my life. Instead of arguing any longer with her, I let her open my legs and systematically remove all the hair along my labia and between my cheeks. She then cleaned my bikini line, tapering the hair on my groin and between my ass cheeks until I had a strip over my clit about two inches wide and three inches long. My skin was blotchy and red, stinging everywhere she’d used those god-forsaken ropes.

“You’ll get this done every month or month and a half. It gets easier every time, and eventually you won’t have to do it nearly as much,” she consoled.

I wouldn’t be here long enough to let her keep doing this, but I just nodded in answer. The cooling gel soothed the burn, and I sighed with relief.

“Now the hair, makeup, and clothes. This will be the fun part, I promise.”

Four hours later, I stood in front of a mirror and didn’t recognize myself. Even knowing who’d I’d been before—the money Alec had for me to see the best stylists and shoppers—I’d never looked like this. Rene cut my hair in a long, asymmetrical bob, with the right side hanging down further and curling below my collarbone. The back barely brushed the start of my shoulders. She’d kept my dark hair, the same color with subtle red toning near the tips. If I wasn’t under the right light, it would look like nothing was there. My makeup was nude, with flat, coral lipstick that made my eyes stand out and appear larger in my face. For all the shit she put on my skin, I could barely feel it, and it looked like I had almost nothing on. Then she put me in a nude, long-sleeve dress that hugged my curves and completed the look with heels with red bottoms.

“You look amazing. I’ll have a whole line of clothing planned for you and delivered by tomorrow. For now, you have some items in your armoire and will be set to travel,” she told me.

I spun around, pulling my gaze away from the mirror. “Travel?”

She frowned at me. “We won’t be staying in New York for too long. Mr. Rey doesn’t like to stay in the States longer than he can help it.”

My mind whirled. He would be taking me out of the States. How would I ever get back? But I tamped down the urge to flee again. I couldn’t escape, and while Benecio admitted he’d lied about some of it, I had a feeling I would see that ten-million-dollar check if I played his game. I could find a way to truly disappear. And maybe being out of the country would safeguard me from who I was running from.

The sudden idea that belonging to Benecio might save me made me hesitant to lash out. If I could be the woman he wanted, find a way to ensure I got the money at the end, I’d disappear forever. I’d been a prostitute long enough to know how to gauge a man. He messed with my head, and was sexier than average, but that didn’t mean he was anything less than a John.

Rene looked down at her watch. “Dr. Mumma should be back. He’s decided to go with the implant since we’ll be traveling. I’ll leave you here until I get back.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m Mr. Rey’s valet. An old term, but Mr. Rey likes it like that. Basically, I’m his personal assistant. That now extends to you, during your time with him.”

“And it doesn’t bother you that he kidnapped me off the street?”

“Seems like he did you a favor, and he always expects agreement. If you’re here, you agreed to it. It’s not his fault you can’t walk away now.”

I gaped at her. “Are you serious? There is always a choice.”

“A drug addict doesn’t choose to quit without help. A bad child doesn’t stop misbehaving without punishment and reinforcement. Look at Mr. Rey as that reinforcement. When he’s done with you, you’ll be better for it. Giving him pieces of you is a small thing to do in return,” she added.

“And what pieces have you given him?” I asked, a dark feeling turning its head at the thought of him with her. It shouldn’t have been there, but it was.

“Everything and nothing. I owe him my life.”

She left before I could ask anything else, and I sank on the bed and waited. It seemed my life wasn’t my own any longer. I remember how my mother used to tell me to be careful what I asked for. I should have listened when I prayed for a way out.