Own My Soul (Sixty Days 3)

I felt her eyes digging. Cogs whirring.

I didn’t want to tell her. Didn’t want to fill her in on the potential, but I had to. I knew I had to.

“He didn’t think it could work out me being there for sixty days. I thought he was going to let me go… back to the pier before I was even a full week through…”

“But now you’re here,” she finished.

I nodded. “Now I’m here.”

“Why didn’t he think it could work out? Didn’t think you were up to it?” Her eyes were on my bruises again.

“No, I don’t think that was it. It was weird… between us… things felt weird, and he didn’t want it. Didn’t like it.”

“Weird how?”

I managed a shrug. “I have no idea now. I don’t know what to think about anything.”

“Same here,” she said.

“At least there’s two of us.”

“Well, fuck the rest of it,” she said. “At least we’re in it together. Better than being holed up in the horror alone without a soul in the world knowing you’re up shit creek without a paddle.”

I smiled as I recognised her. The Rebecca Lane I’d seen a glimpse of so strongly on the pier that night. Her smile was bright, even through the horror in her eyes. Her fear was still there, but so was her soul, shining bright.

“They’re auctioning me off,” she told me. “I’ve been paraded in front of the cameras as they’ve done it. Beaten and used and treated like a piece of shit while they’ve offered up cash like I’m nothing. It’s nothing like last time. Those bids were all behind the scenes. The first thing I knew about those clients was when they were brought in the room with me and I was told to do whatever I was told to do. And I just went with it. I was so gone by that time I’d have done whatever he’d said anyway, no matter how fucking crazy.”

“But this is different?”

“Yeah,” she said. “This is different. I’ve heard the bids coming in, and they’re not cool. These people… some of them sound like the same people… but they won’t be the same people, not in here. You see he was always there, watching. I could feel it. Feel them knowing the boundaries. In here I don’t think there are any boundaries, just men paying to do whatever they want without giving a shit.”

I didn’t need to comment on that. I could feel it myself. The differences would be obvious. There was no way the big bad wolf would have the same backbone I felt from Brandon when it came to setting the rules.

The guys in this space wouldn’t have any rules. I just knew it.

“It’s still sixty days though, right?” I asked, with the attempts of a smile on my face. “They’re still going to let you out after the contract term with no lasting damage?”

Her hands gripped mine tighter. So much tighter.

“I dunno,” she said. “I just fucking hope so.”

I pulled her close as her tears started up again, all too aware that she was as bruised in her nakedness as I was in mine.

“I fucking hope so too,” I said.Chapter FourBrandonThe bastard left it until two minutes before the hour was up. My message showed as read a whole lot sooner, but he left it right to the edge, until the tension was rife between us across the ether, regardless of where the prick was holed up. My finger was hovering over the send notification button when the call came through, ready to trigger the mass send-out should the idiot opt to test my threat.

I answered on the second ring, my voice nothing more than a grunt as I spoke his name.

“I’ll seriously regret it, will I?” he said, and his tone was as clipped and cold as I’d ever heard it. “Tell me, how do you propose I’m going to seriously regret keeping you out of the business loop from here on in?”

“She’s not yours to put through the sixty day process,” I said. “I handle sixty days. I handle our sixty-day girls. I handle Paige Emmerson.”

I hated his stupid fucking laugh. “Really? You handle Paige Emmerson, do you? I’ve been watching your broadcasts avidly, Mr Grant. Whatever you’re doing over there is nothing to do with our sixty-day contract. I’m of the opinion she’ll end up like pouty little Annabel Fisher, back to regular life with a whole host of cancelled clients in her wake. Wouldn’t you say so?”

He was trying to keep the business lid on tight. Trying to sound like the reasonable one in this sorry mess, even though it was my brother and security team that were nursing battle wounds in the room next door.

“Annabel Fisher was pushed past her limits way ahead of schedule. Your instruction, I believe.”

“And you are suddenly angelic enough to care, are you? Sixty days means sixty days. It’s always meant sixty days. This conscience… this insanity… whatever the holy hell is going on over there since Paige Emmerson came into the picture is beyond rational, boy. Beyond fucking rational.”