Booted (Trails of Sin 3)

All of which he took with him when he abandoned his house.

“Your forty dollars paid for my motel room last night.” She straightens the skirt of her dress. “I needed money to buy a gun. That’s what I was doing tonight. Earning some quick cash.”

At her pause, I give her a firm glare, ordering her to keep talking.

“You want to know how I started…” She smooths her long black hair behind her ear. “How I started in this profession?”

I want to know everything, and she won’t leave this truck until she tells me.

She reads my silence and licks her lips. “I grew up in McAlester, right down the road from the Big Mac.”

My head jerks back. Big Mac is the nickname for Oklahoma State Penitentiary, where I was incarcerated.

“When I was young,” she says, “I hung around the prison and met a lot of inmates as they were released.”

“Not the best place for a kid. Where were your parents?”

“Never knew my dad, and my mom spent more time with her drug dealers than she did with me. She couldn’t keep a job. Couldn’t pay the bills. Meanwhile, I matured early. Boobs, ass, all the things that attract older guys.” She lifts a shoulder. “Didn’t take me long to learn how to use my body in the world’s oldest profession.”

My blood chills. “How young?”

“I was fourteen the first time. He was just released from prison for—”

“Pedophilia.”

“Assault with a deadly weapon, actually.

A growl vibrates in my chest.

“Okay, maybe he had a thing for young girls.” She presses her knees together. “He was gentle with me. I’ve heard horror stories about girls losing their virginities. Mine wasn’t so bad. For a guy in his twenties, he seemed to know what he was doing. Afterward, he took me to a diner and fed me the best meal I had in years. He also told me which convicts to steer away from, what to look out for, and how to protect myself from diseases.”

If I hear much more of this, my molars might crack from the pressure.

“I never saw him again.” She falls quiet for several minutes, seemingly lost in thought. “I didn’t do it all the time. Not until after high school. By then, I was desperate. I figured out when inmates were released, how to catch their interest, and which ones had the money to buy an hour with me.”

A bitter taste floods my mouth. “You could’ve flipped hamburgers.”

“I didn’t have that luxury.” Her voice cracks. “Minimum wage doesn’t pay hospital bills.”

“Hospital bills?”

“Three years ago, my sister was diagnosed with Chronic Renal Insufficiency.” She draws her arms tight against her ribs and stares down at her empty hands. “By the time I met John Holsten, she was in severe kidney failure.”

Two nights ago, she said she had no family. Did she lie?

“Tiana was just a baby at the time, barely a year old.” She hugs her waist. “I was willing to sell my soul to save her life. The doctors kept delaying organ transplantation, and the bills were stacking up. Her illness inspired my mom to get clean for a while, but she still wasn’t working. If we had insurance and money, Tiana would’ve had options. Longer hospital stays. Better medical care.” Sniffling sounds break up her words, and she wipes her nose. “I was just one person, juggling the bills and Tiana’s around-the-clock care on my own. And failing.”

My chest constricts, and my fingers twitch to touch her. The impulse is so unfamiliar I instinctively shut it out and return to numbness.

“I was in the parking lot of the prison when John rolled up beside me in his fancy truck.” Her hands ball into fists. “I assume he was there to visit you?”

“He liked to check up on me, but I refused to see him.”

A glance at the rearview mirror reveals miles of darkness. A sick part of me wishes John would show up. I’d love to drag his ass into the street and drive over him a few hundred times.

“Before John, I’d only been with convicts,” she says. “But he had that huge expensive truck, designer suit, and an aristocratic air about him that screamed money, like a big businessman or oil tycoon. The way he looked at me, I knew he saw an easy lay in a cheap motel. When I looked at him, I saw an opportunity.”

“It was all a front. He didn’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of.”

“I didn’t know that at the time, but I should have. My gut whispered to run, and I ignored it.”

According to Jake, Raina is twenty-four, the same age as Conor. At least she wasn’t under-aged when she met John.

That doesn’t stop my blood from boiling.

She releases a sigh. “He offered twice my usual rate and took me to a nearby motel, where I made it my life’s mission to give him the best damn hour he ever had. I wanted to ensure he came back. I thought if I could turn it into a regular thing, maybe add some overnights and long weekends, I could earn enough money to make a difference in Tiana’s treatment.”