“What about the girl?” the one who only just walked in a few moments ago asks loud enough for me to hear, and then he nods in my direction. With their eyes on me, I notice they’re the exact same shade, but something about this one’s stare is more intense. It keeps me grounded in place.
“Take care of it.” The first guy sighs. “The last thing I want for my wife right now is a scandal.”
“It’s done.” He nods and makes his way toward me. His eyes never leave mine, and I back up a step until I run right into the bar. When he gets to me, he takes my purse right out of my hand without asking and opens it up. He grabs the fake ID and scowls at it.
“I’m Amanda Tomsan, and I'm twenty-two.”
“What’s your real name?” he asks, and I swallow. “Answer me, little girl.”
“Demi.”
“Demi,” he repeats before putting the ID back into my purse then fishing out the little bag of white powder I’d taken from my mother’s bedroom.
“What is it?” He holds up the plastic bag.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, and he puts that back too. He tucks my purse under his arm and then looms over me.
“How much was he paying you for the night?” He looks like a pissed-off father, and his eyes cut right through me down into my soul.
“I don’t know,” I repeat.
“I’ll double it.” He grabs me by the arm and hauls me from the restaurant.
“Double it?” I squeak and try to yank my arm away. He only holds me tighter until I fall into his side and his arm wraps around me.
“Don’t fight me or you’ll regret it.” I stare up into his eyes, and he waits for me to challenge him. I only nod, knowing I’ll never win against a man this big. “Good girl,” he praises before he takes me for himself.
Two
CURT
“I’m guessing this fake ID doesn’t have your real address on it?” She nods as the valet hands me my keys, and I walk her over to the passenger door. Once she’s inside, I get behind the wheel and drive away from the restaurant, putting distance between us and Sherman Hawthorne’s mess. “Then you’re going to have to tell me where you live.”
“Why?” She looks over, her beautiful honey-colored eyes blinking up at me.
“What do you mean why? So I can take you home.” I glance down at her dress that’s basically a Band-Aid on her body and shake my head. “How old are you really? There’s no way you could pass for twenty-two.”
“I’ll be eighteen in two days.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Believe what you want, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Are you really going to take me home?”
“Yes, if you tell me where you live.” She gives me directions, and it’s not far from here.
“What did you mean by ‘doubling the price’?” Her voice is soft, but it’s sweet and tender like she’s afraid. I don’t want her to be scared of me.
“I’ll pay double what he did to keep your silence. Just tell me how much and I’ll make sure you get it.”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know how much.” She looks out her window and tells me where to turn up ahead.
“I don’t get it. You were a paid escort, right?” When she doesn't look at me, I let out a long sigh. “Listen, I’m not judging, I just want to make sure you don’t talk about what happened today and that you’ve got enough to keep you out of doing this shit. Shouldn’t you be in school?”
“I graduated already.” She points to a street up ahead. “I’m down this one at the end.”
The neighborhood is run-down, with dilapidated houses and trash in the streets. “You live here?”
“It’s my mom’s place.” Her hands shake as she folds them into her lap.
I pull up to the house at the end, and it’s one of the worst. There are boards over the windows, and the porch is falling in. There’s knee-high grass in the front yard and a rusted car in the driveway.
“Your mom makes you live in that?” I can’t keep the horror out of my voice.
“Some people don’t have a choice. And she doesn’t make me.” She looks down at my expensive suit, and I feel like an asshole. “If she had her way she’d be alone with her boyfriend of the week. But it’s not exactly like I’ve got a lot of options.”
She’s right. I shouldn’t judge, and I feel like shit now. As much as I get what she’s saying, I can’t in good conscience leave her here.
“Do you have anything in that house that’s yours?” She looks down at her empty hands and shakes her head without looking at me. “All right then.” I put the car in reverse, and her head snaps up.