Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Connor
Riding in the back seat of a black town car, wrapped in a disgusting blanket and shoes that didn’t fit, was not on my bucket list for life.
I hoped my split-second decision to skip an escape attempt was right.
As stupid as it was, I didn’t want to die, and these guys were all armed and not afraid to use their weapons.
The silencers on their guns were a pretty damn big clue these guys weren’t from Ralphie’s usual crowd.
Running meant a guaranteed bullet in my head.
I still didn’t know the name of the man who’d ordered me out of the apartment.
His custom-fitted suit, gold cufflinks, and Italian leather loafers screamed money.
His black hair and honey-toned skin made me think of the Mediterranean.
I’d never been, of course, but geography had been my favorite subject in school.
It had let me imagine I lived anywhere but where I did.
Kids staying in the back bedroom of a single-wide trailer weren’t usually the ones headed off on European vacations.
There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I wasn’t willing to risk angering the fancy man.
When Ralphie got mad, he punished me with his fists and feet.
This guy was much larger than Ralphie, and after that last beating, I wasn’t sure if I could take another so soon.
If I tilted my head a sliver, I could see him in profile.
His dark hair was cut short with a bit of silver at the temples.
I’d put his age at mid-thirties, maybe a little older, but that didn’t lessen the bulge of muscles.
He hadn’t slipped into dad-bod territory yet.
The tic in his cheek didn’t bode well for me though.
“Why are you staring at me?” He turned his head and looked directly into my eyes. His dark-brown eyes weren’t cruel, but his cheek tic was scary as hell.
I lowered my gaze immediately. One of Ralphie’s rules was to never look directly at him. The last thing I wanted to do was piss off my new…owner…before we got to where we were going.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He sighed and looked back out the window. The tic was more pronounced now and his hands were curled into fists.
Fuck. I’d already upset him and wasn’t sure how to fix it.
Here to serve. Shut your mouth. Here to serve. Shut your mouth.
I repeated the mantra Ralphie had drilled into my head over and over so I’d be prepared.
My thoughts were so preoccupied that I didn’t realize we were pulling into the garage of a townhouse.
Stupid me should have been paying attention to my surroundings.
The purr of the engine cut off, but the man made no move to get out.
He finally looked over to me with carefully schooled features.
“Are you going to give me any trouble?”
“No, sir. I know my place.”
He grunted at that but opened the car door and exited the vehicle.
My door opened, and I scrambled out. The man holding my door had unmistakable bodyguard vibes.
I whispered my thanks, but only received silence in response.
He jerked his head toward the door, and I immediately followed his unspoken directions.
We wound our way through a maze of hallways until we reached a staircase at the far end.
I did my best to keep up, but with sore ribs, it was hard to keep air in my lungs.
The few times I stopped to catch my breath, the guards crowded me to keep moving.
It was a struggle, but I finally reached the top.
I heard a ping from a nearby elevator. Internally, I groaned, but there was no way in hell I would say anything.
The stairs led us into a foyer, all traditional wood banisters and plaster walls.
I wasn’t an expert in houses, but even I knew this wasn’t anything like Ralphie’s shitty apartment or my uncle’s craptastic trailer.
This place screamed money and elegance. I hoped like hell I’d figure out a way to recover and complete my duties.
After seeing how quickly they took out Ralphie, I had no delusions about my odds of making it out alive.
The still unnamed man emerged from the direction of the elevator sound and stopped directly in front of me.
I didn’t dare look up at him, so I studied his shoes instead.
The shine was enough that I could see the reflection of the hall.
When my dad was alive, he polished his dress shoes every Saturday night, and I loved the smell.
He’d sit in his recliner while I sat next to him on the floor.
He’d kept all the supplies in a little wooden box.
My job had been to hand him the polishes, rags, and waxes.
That box was gone now, along with everything else.
Here to serve. Shut your mouth. Here to serve. Shut your mouth.
I kept my eyes downcast. If I’d learned nothing else, it was that looking people in the eye was a guaranteed way to get knocked around.
That lesson took more than a week to sink in.
Unfortunately, standing here made the ache in my side much more pronounced.
I hoped he didn’t notice my gritted teeth or unintentional listing.
“Follow me.”
He turned and headed through double wooden doors that slid into the walls.
I thought they were called pocket doors, but I wasn’t sure and definitely wouldn’t ask.
He’d already situated himself behind the imposing desk flanked by a wall of books and electronics.
He had three monitors set up, although all were black at the moment, and a stack of reports sat on the corner of the desk.
With a sigh, he stood back up and removed his jacket and cufflinks, which he dropped on a little plate on his desk.
The ping seemed unnaturally loud in the silent room.
His shirt was already unbuttoned at the top, but now he rolled up his sleeves.
I wasn’t sure what to do, so I remained rooted right where I was in front of his desk.
“Connor, what’s your last name again?”
“Higgins, sir.”
“How do you know Ralphie?”
“My Uncle Jasper plays poker with him and lost. Ralphie said he needed someone to help around his house, and my uncle said I could work it off for him.”
“Did you want to?”
“No one asked me.”
The man lapsed into silence. He steepled his fingers and tapped them against his lips.
I was too nervous to speak, so I remained silent and continued to study the floor.
My side felt like it was on fire, but I steeled myself not to sway, moan, or do anything to make myself look weaker than I already was.
“What did you do for Ralphie?”
“I tried to cook and clean for him the way he liked. He was very particular, and, um, how he wanted it done changed. A lot.”
“Did he do that to your face?”
“He warned me. I should’ve listened to his instructions more carefully.”
“Did Ralphie ever hurt you sexually?”
“No. I think he was straight, but he got off on hurting me. It wasn’t sexual.” There wasn’t a reason to mention his offhand threats to have someone else hurt me in that way.
“Do you have any questions for me?”
“No, sir.”
The man returned to quiet contemplation before suddenly rapping the table twice.
My head jerked up at the sound, and I realized his chocolate-brown eyes were staring at me.
Staring wasn’t the right word. It was more like his eyes bore into my soul, and I wasn’t sure if he meant to devour me or kill me. Possibly both.
“How old are you? And I want the absolute truth.”
“Twenty-four.”
The man fell back against his chair with a sigh. I was almost certain I heard a quiet “Goddammit” before he said, “As it turns out, I need a houseboy.”