The envelope contained his savings. It came to about seventy-five dollars. Just five creased and greasy bills. It felt like nothing at all.
How was it that he was going to hand over this envelope and get a person in return?
Dorothy’s face flashed into his head just then. He saw her as she’d been in those last few moments before she’d climbed out of his ship and disappeared into the storm. Grease-smudged face. Frizzed hair.
In the space of seconds, his disgust was snatched away and replaced with hope. Let it be her, he prayed. Let it be this easy.
He placed the envelope onto the rickety table, fingers tingling as he moved his hand away.
Mac grabbed the money and greedily counted the bills. “This all seems to be in order.” He shoved the envelope down the back of his trousers and nodded at Chandra. “Come with me, doll.”
“She stays here,” Ash said too quickly.
Mac hesitated, eyebrows climbing his forehead. He looked suspicious for the first time since Ash walked in.
“Did I miss the part where you give orders in my club?” he asked in a careful voice.
Tread lightly, Ash thought, fear prickling up his spine. This wasn’t some fragile ego he was dealing with, not like the guy at the bar. Mac’s hatred was heartier than that.
Mac was a gasoline-soaked rag—a single match and he’d explode.
Ash weighed his words before saying, “I want to see the girl before I hand over the rest of the payment.”
Mac shrugged, all casual. But the suspicion didn’t leave his eyes. “If you like.”
He walked out of the room. Whistling.
Chandra kept her head bowed until the hideous toad man was gone. Then she straightened, tossing her dark hair over one shoulder. Her eyes blazed. “When do I get to shoot him?”
Ash glanced at her. She had his gun tucked down her pant leg, held snug by her sock. It was the only place he could be sure no one would look for it. Guards weren’t allowed to inspect the new girls before Mac did, after all. It was a flaw in the system that Ash was happy to exploit.
“After he brings Dorothy out,” Ash said. “Then you can shoot his balls off for all I care.”
Chandra favored him with a slow blink, perhaps imagining this exact scenario. She said, grinning, “Goody.”
Fifteen minutes passed before Ash heard the approach of footsteps outside the motel room. The skin behind his ears prickled. He shifted his body between Chandra and the door.
“Now you’re feeling protective,” Chandra muttered, bristling.
Ash swallowed the sudden tightness in his throat. “Quiet.”
“I’m just saying, you could’ve played the hero before, back when he was sexually assaulting me with his eyes.”
Ash shot her a look, and Chandra mimed zipping her mouth shut.
Mac walked past the window first. The curtains were drawn, but Ash recognized his fat head through the yellowing fabric. A smaller shadow shuffled close behind him. A girl, her body slight and bent over.
Ash felt his breath catch.
Mac walked back into the room. “Behold,” he said, lip curling in what he must’ve thought was a smile. “The prettiest whore in all of New Seattle!”
The girl appeared at the door. She was staring at her feet, dark hair covering her face.
“Well?” Mac looked from the girl to Ash expectantly. “What do you think?”
His voice lifted the girl’s head, and her dark hair parted like a curtain, revealing skin pale as china, bow-shaped lips, and eyes like a doll’s. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen years old, Ash realized, the hope draining out of him. She wasn’t Dorothy.
A bruise colored the skin around her left eye. He wondered if that had been her punishment for biting the last man who’d stood where he was standing now.
Mac said something else, but Ash couldn’t have said what it was. His blood was pumping in his ears, so loud that he couldn’t hear anything over it.
“Chandra,” he said, trying and failing to keep the emotion from his voice. “Now.”
Chandra lurched forward, faking a sudden coughing fit. She was faster than Ash had expected her to be, so fast that he wondered if she’d been practicing in her room back at the schoolhouse. Mac barely had time to frown at her and mutter something about bringing him sick girls before her hand was at her ankle, fingers curling around the gun tucked in her sock.
She stood, one eye closing as she took aim.
“Whoa.” Mac raised his hands, backing away. He looked at Ash. “What’s this? I thought we were dealing in good faith, here.”
“Hey, toad face,” Chandra said. “Why are you looking at him? I’m the one with the gun.”
Ash shrugged. “Sounds like you should be dealing with her.”
Mac’s lips twitched, as though the very thought disgusted him. “You let a girl run your show, friend?”
“As frequently as possible,” said Ash. “Now—”
“Wait a second . . . I know you.” Mac’s beady eyes flicked over to Chandra and narrowed. “Yeah, and you. You’re part of that time travelers’ group, right? The Chronology whatever?”
He was talking about the Chronology Protection Agency, a team of time travelers taken from throughout history and brought to New Seattle two years ago to work alongside the late, great Professor Zacharias Walker.
Mac smiled, and gave a slow shake of his head. “I’ve had people out looking for you and your friends for the last month. You’re well hidden. That intentional?”
“It is,” Ash said, a rough edge to his voice. “We got a little tired of people showing up on our doorstep asking us to take them back in time to see the dinosaurs.”
“That so?” Mac chewed on his chapped lip, grinning slightly. “So you don’t take requests? Say, for local business owners. There would be payment involved.”
Local business owners. The phrase turned Ash’s stomach. “We aren’t going to take you back in time, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I could make it worth your while.”
“No, thanks,” Ash said.
Mac’s eyes darted to the makeshift desk under the window. Ash followed his gaze to a small black Glock.
“Go for it and I shoot.” Chandra slid a thumb over the gun’s hammer. “Where do you keep the rest of the girls?”
Mac inched toward the desk. “If you think I’m going to—”
Chandra fired, sending a bullet straight through the pimp’s thigh. He howled with pain, dropping to his knees. Blood leaked onto the floor.
“I was aiming a bit higher than your leg,” Chandra said. “Should I try again?”
“She’s not very good with that thing,” Ash said.
Mac pushed his fist to his mouth and bit down on his knuckles. A tear oozed out of his eye and slithered down his cheek. He had his other hand pressed to the wound in his leg, blood gushing through his fingers.
“They’re—they’re upstairs,” he gasped, cringing. “Room Three-C.”
Ash glanced at Chandra, half expecting her to shoot again, but she only tucked the gun in the back of her jeans, scowling at Mac as she darted out of the room. The young dark-haired girl hesitated for a moment and then followed her.