“You’re lucky you’re worth more than an ass beating right now.”
“Fuck you.” I reattempt the same maneuver, but he dodges my kick and leaps onto my back, knocking the wind out of me. “Let me go! Let me fucking go!”
“Listen to me!” His arms wrap tight around me. “I don’t want to do this, but I have to. We need weapons. And supplies.”
“I don’t give a damn what you need, you piece of shit!”
“Madame Beaumont isn’t bad. Better than the convent you wanted me to take you to.”
“Madame? She runs a fucking brothel!” I squirm and kick, using the bed of the truck for leverage. Hot metal scrapes over my knees, mocking my effort with a cold sting of pain.
“You’re too valuable as a virgin. She isn’t going to whore you out.”
“What the hell ... else … does she want with me?” My words, broken by struggle, fail to convey the absolute fury blazing inside of me.
“She’ll probably keep you as her personal servant.”
“Or sell me … to some disgusting pig ... who has a thing for virgins! Asshole!”
“Look at her. Does she look like she needs anything? You’ll be well fed. Well cared for. Better than the nuns, who’ll keep you locked away in some convent. I could’ve sold you off to marauders, but I’m trying to do the Christian thing here.”
“Christian thing? What the hell church did you go to?” I spit back, still wriggling to get loose.
“One more merciful than yours, apparently.”
“This is why … you didn’t ask … my name.”
“What?”
Realizing my fight is futile, I still beneath him. “Back at the cave. I found it odd that you introduced yourself, but didn’t bother to ask my name. I figured you didn’t want to know, for some reason. But you already knew, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Who is your contact at Szolen?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
“Why? So you can keep the business of selling women? Tell me!”
“Doesn’t matter. She’s dead.”
Dead? “Who? Who’s dead?” I turn my head to the side, unable to see his face from this angle.
“Gwen.”
Pieces of two completely different puzzles float around inside my head as I try to make the connection between him and the woman I traveled with. “Did you plan to sell her off, too?”
“Not important. Why’d the Rager sniff you?”
He saw that? “You presume I know what the hell a Rager is thinking before it decides to rape me?”
“It wasn’t gonna rape you.”
“How would you know?”
“Only time they do that is if something’s wrong with you.”
Wrong with me. What the hell could be so wrong with me that a Rager would cast me aside as unworthy? It’s a question that has me laughing on the inside, in spite of my urge to cry right now. “You watched it. You waited to see if it would?”
“Was curious, is all.”
“You really are a piece of shit.”
“All the more reason to rid yourself of me, don’t you think?”
My body jerks, as he pushes off me and hops over the edge of the truck, before tugging the rope hard enough to yank me toward him. Once close enough, he lifts me out of the bed of the truck and sets me down.
“You try anything tricky, and I’ll put a bullet in your back.”
“Thought I was worth more than that.”
“As long as you’re alive.” He cuts the rope and takes hold of the small stretch of chain between my shackles, jerking me behind him.
“Oh, my. Oh, my!” The woman lifts her dark sunglasses and rests her palms against her cheeks, her eyes appraising me. “She is a vision!” Her face hardens, eyes narrowing on the men surrounding me. “You didn’t lay one finger on her, I hope.”
“Not a one, ma’am. She’s untouched. You have my word.”
Brows winged up in sympathy, she shakes her head, and before I can stop her, pulls me into her too-big breasts for a suffocating embrace. “Poor child. You look exhausted. In need of a more civilized meal, and out of the company of brutes. Am I right?”
Hands still at my shoulders, she takes a step back, relieving me of her unwelcome hug. Without taking her eyes off me, she kicks her head to the side. “Henry, remove these shackles from her wrists.”
Eyes flitting to the exceptionally brawny man behind her, I rub my aching wrist. “He can do that?”
“He’s a thief by trade.”
“I wouldn’t do that, ma’am,” Sam says, and what I wouldn’t give to turn around and punch him square in the face right now. “She might try to run.”
“She might. That is the nature of free will. Now, take your measly little earnings and be off with you.”
The beastly man behind her nabs the chain with one hand and, after fishing into his pocket with the other, produces a small knife that he flips open. As he goes to work on the locks of my shackles, Sam and the others gather up the stacked crates that appear to be filled with supplies. The currency out here in the Deadlands, it seems, along with young virgin women.
Too bad I’m not a virgin.
“I’ll see you around. Thalia.” Sam’s voice is like ground glass scraping across my eardrum, and I don’t bother to look back, as he and his men pack up the last of the crates.
The first shackle falls from my wrist, the way my arm flies backward making me realize their burdensome weight. Behind me, the truck’s engine fires up, and just like that, I’m at the mercy of Madame Beaumont. She knows I won’t run. Where would a girl, with no training in survival out here, hide away? And what would I do with myself, if I did manage to escape her?
No. She knows I’m not that stupid.
And she isn’t, either.
Chapter 6
The next shackle slips off, and I exhale a breath, massaging the red ligature marks left behind.
“Better, dear?” Madame Beaumont’s soft fingertips capture my wrist, and she gives a light massage, working out the last of the ache.
“What do you want with me?”
“I’ll bet you’re a smart girl, aren’t you? Shrewd. And stubborn as a whip. That’s why you’re here, after all, isn’t it?” Sliding her sunglasses back over her eyes, she jerks her head for me to follow after her. “Let me show you around. If you’re not pleased with my home, I’ll set you free.”
“After you just paid in crates of supplies.”
“I am one of few who live an abundant life out here. The universe has blessed me beyond measure.”
The beast of a man pushes through a cast iron gate, and as we cross the threshold, I immediately take notice of the guards standing at posts, strapped with guns. If Sam and his crew had attempted anything tricky, they’d have been shot dead on the spot. The place is a fortress.
Of course, he probably knew that. In fact, I bet he trades with her on a regular basis, picking up wayward girls he finds out in the Deadlands.
After taking in the security, my eyes are greeted by a jungle of greenery and exotic flowers. Gorgeous, cultivated gardens that don’t make any sense in the thick of all the surrounding abandonment.