Jealousy let her arms drop. Something flashed black.

Grabbing her right hand, I twisted it until her wrist faced me.

A matching tattoo.

Biting my lip, I aligned my own inked wrist to kiss hers. Two barcodes. Two girls stripped to merchandise and sold.

“Mexico?” I whispered.

“Brazil.” She stroked mine, tracing the small numbers that meant nothing but demoted me to a belonging. “I ran away from home. Got a job on a cruise liner as a cleaner. We docked in Rio de Janeiro. While at sea, we worked six and a half days a week. It so happened that my lousy five hours off was in port, and I jumped at the chance to explore a vibrant city.” Her eyes hazed over with memory. “I heard the ship’s horn sound, warning for passengers to be on board to depart, just as I was stuffed in the back of a van. They took me to some warehouse that smelled of old fish and…”

When she didn’t continue, I filled in the blanks myself. I’d lived those blanks and didn’t need her to speak. “I’m sorry.” I squeezed her fingers, looking again at our matching tattoos.

They might have been the same operation or totally different, but either way, our similar ink granted a strange kind of sisterhood. The oddest friendship bracelet any two friends had shared.

“I’m sorry too...” She moved back a little, giving me space to shrug into the robe, tie the belt, and grab a hairbrush. “That you didn’t make it to safety.”

“It was a one in a million chance I would.”

Backing up, she reclined against the wall. “I don’t know. You were pretty smart. The supplies you gathered would’ve lasted a week or so. You could’ve gotten far with that amount of time.”

My eyebrows shot up. “How…?” I stopped brushing. “How did you know?”

She smiled gently. “I know most things that go on around here.” Dropping her gaze to the tiles, she added, “Just like I know that Sullivan is cracking.”

“Cracking?”

“You’re not like the rest, Jinx.” Her eyes followed my arm as I struggled to drag the brush through my shipwrecked tangles. “Not to him at least.”

“Does that bother you?” I asked quietly. “That there’s something…between us.”

She shook her head adamantly. “Of course not. I’m not in love with him.” Her hazel gaze twinkled. “However, I suspect you might be.”

I dropped the brush. “Me?” I blushed, ducking to pick it up after clattering on the tiles. “No. Just…misguided. Misled. Stupid. Idiotic.” I sighed, resuming my brushing but turning my back so I faced the mirror. Not that it concealed any of my truth, the mirror reflecting my flush of shame.

“Why did you run?” Her gaze remained on mine.

“Didn’t you run, once upon a time?” I shot back.

She spread her hands in surrender. “Do I sound weak if I admit I never tried?”

“No.” I sighed, keeping eye contact. “Because I know your family didn’t treat you well. You found a better existence here, so why would you leave?”

“Others would ask why would I stay? Why allow men I have never met and will never see again to fuck me when I could be free.”

It was my turn to shrug. “Sex is the oldest profession in the world.” I forced a chuckle. “Some might say it’s a sound employment choice.”

She laughed too. “Perhaps. Or…I don’t see the sex as a deal-breaker when Sullivan gives us so much in return.”

With my hair sleek and long down my back, I placed the brush on the vanity and turned to face her. “I ran because I have feelings for him that I don’t want to feel. That I shouldn’t feel. That are totally moronic when I take into account how I met him, why I’m here, and the circumstances in which he keeps me.” My confiding revelation spilled out. “I feel like I’m some silly statistic in a newspaper. Girl gets kidnapped. Girl falls for kidnapper. Girl is blind to reality. Girl gets killed for being an idiot.”

Jealousy pursed her lips, nodding as if she totally agreed with me. “But what if it’s the same for him?”

I froze.

My heart ceased mid beat. “What did you say?”

She pushed off from the wall, padding toward me. She wore a simple baby blue summer dress, short and floaty, making her seem young and far too innocent for our sensual subjection. “I mean…what if he’s fighting the same things you are?” She took my hand, urgency filling her pretty face. “Jinx…there’s something you should know. The diamond that he gave you…from the man you slept with last week—”

“Jessica,” a seethed snarl came from the door, ripping both our heads up. “I suggest you silence yourself before I do it for you.”

Sully stood with his arms crossed, glowering at both of us.

We jumped apart as if we’d been caught doing something illicit, our shared friendship that’d sprung from tentative to steadfast, a glowing string between us. I’d rowed away from an acquaintance but had flown back to find a trustworthy confidant.

A confidant who knew more than she let on.

What about the diamond?

The diamond I’d left in my bedside drawer when I’d run. The diamond I hated because it made me feel dirty and wrong whenever I looked within its glittering perfection. It made me remember the caveman who’d thrust inside me, made me orgasm countless times, and been both rough but gentle.

A man named Markus Grammer who I’d never see again.

“Calico is serving in Euphoria tonight,” Sully growled. “Make yourself useful and help her prepare.”

Jealousy bowed and slipped past him. She darted out of my villa without a backward glance.

The thin dressing gown I wore suddenly felt as inconsequential as air. Sully’s stare stripped me to the bone, to the bare essentials, to my broken soul beneath. “You’re clean. Good.”

I shivered at the rigid remoteness in his tone.

“Am I to serve in Euphoria too?” My hands fisted with false bravado.

His jaw worked, but he shook his head slowly. “Multiple goddesses can serve on one night, but no. You will be fucked tomorrow.”

Greyness feathered over my sight, faintness once again stealing the firmness of my world. So it was true. I hadn’t feared for nothing. I wasn’t his to keep for himself, just a toy to rent out.

Dropping my chin, I nodded, doing my best to keep any emotion from my face. I searched for something to say, but words were mysteriously absent.

Sully shifted, moving toward the exit. “Come with me.”

My eyes shot up. “But you just said—”

“I said you’re serving in Euphoria tomorrow. Not that you were free from punishment tonight.”

I gulped. “But—”

“No fucking buts.” He snapped his fingers. “Follow me.” His eyes narrowed. “Or I can throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.” He stepped threateningly toward me. “Which would you prefer?”

“I’ll walk.” I arched my chin, refusing to be intimidated even though every blood cell quaked.

“Fine.” He spun on his shiny shoes and stalked from my bathroom, through my lounge, and out the front door. He didn’t stop to ensure I obeyed him. He’d changed clothes since our last encounter, slipping into a black suit and black shirt, leaving his throat bare from a tie.