7. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Ginger
I’d given Bronx one last look before hurrying downstairs. I didn’t know what was waiting for me, but it couldn’t be worse than anything I’d survived thus far.
It wasn’t until I entered the main room downstairs that I realized how wrong I’d been. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Tom Rutledge II and his entourage. I’d thought once I escaped and came here, I’d never see him again. The moment his gaze locked onto me, I knew my life was over. I’d managed to escape once. I wouldn’t be so lucky this time.
“What did I tell you, Bruno?” Tom asked his righthand man. “Sooner or later, we’d find our favorite little toy. And here she is!”
Vegas and Houston turned to look at me. I saw confusion in Houston’s eyes, and a calculated gleam in Vegas’. I’d finally been free, and I’d experienced the soft touch of a man for the first time in my life. I wasn’t sure if knowing the gentleness of Reno and Bronx made this better or worse. At least they hadn’t given me the pleasure they’d talked about. If they had, I didn’t think I’d make it through what was about to happen next.
“You know our little Ginger?” Vegas asked.
“Oh, yes. Rather well,” Tom said, a leer on his face. “Of course, I preferred her before she got quite so curvy.”
Houston’s face blanked as he stared at me, and I wondered how much he’d just put together. Vegas’ brow furrowed as he eyed me, probably trying to figure out what abundant curves I had, since my breasts were only a B-cup, and my hips were on the slender side. But for a man like Tom, I might as well have been a Botticelli.
“I’m assuming your clubhouse has a playroom?” Tom asked. “Bruno has certain… needs. But Ginger knows all about that, don’t you?”
I gave a jerky nod and hoped my legs would keep holding me up.
I knew all about what Bruno liked, and how much it would hurt. I should have known I couldn’t hide forever. My little vacation had been nice, but it seemed now it was at an end. How long before they demanded the club hand me over? If it meant their deal would go through, would Vegas gift me to them without hesitation? Probably. The man hated me enough he might even gift wrap me.
Reno and Bronx would never do something like that, but I wasn’t so sure about Vegas, or even Houston. Speaking of the gentle giants, I saw them enter the room from the corner of my eye. I wished they’d stayed upstairs. I didn’t want them to see this, or hear any of the awful things these men might say.
“Sorry. The playroom is out of order,” Houston said, striding closer to me. He wrapped his hand around my arm and tugged me behind him. “Your men will have to play with Ginger another time.”
Before I could process what was going on, Houston dragged me from the room and back upstairs. I caught a glimpse of Vegas’ face and saw both confusion and fury. I didn’t know if he was pissed at me or Houston, and hoped I wouldn’t find out anytime soon.
Instead of going to Reno’s room, he shoved me through a different door. I didn’t even get a chance to look around before the door clicked shut and I found myself getting Houston’s undivided attention. He stalked toward me and I backed up until I collided with the wall. Houston didn’t stop until our toes were nearly touching. The darkness in his eyes had me clenching my hands at my sides. So far, no one here had hurt me. Not really. Sure my ass hurt after a night of fucking, but that was different.
Was everything about to change? I’d thought Houston was saving me, even though I didn’t understand why. What if I was wrong? Would he beat me? Try to break me?
“You know those men,” he said. “Intimately it would seem.”
I didn’t bother acknowledging his statement. He wasn’t asking. He’d already figured it out, or at least part of it. Just how much did he know? What would happen when he heard the entire sordid tale? Would I be given back to those men? Thrown out into the streets? Or would they decide to abuse me like others had before them?
He slid his hands from the sides of my breasts to my hips. “He said he’d enjoyed you until you got too curvy. Please. Ginger, please fucking tell me he didn’t mean what I think he did.”
I stared at his chin, refusing to look him in the eye. This was it. The moment the club discovered how dirty I was. I might be one of their club girls, and they often referred to us as whores, but they didn’t realize how true that word was when it came to describing me. If Houston kept pushing for information, I’d have to spill my secrets.
His hold on me tightened. “Ginger. Tell me.”
“Is that an order?” I asked.
“I may be an asshole, but I’m not a monster,” he said. “I need to know I’m wrong.”
I licked my lips and hopes I had the strength to talk about what I’d been through. “When I was nine, my parents died in a fire. The people at social services sent me to live with my uncle, a man I’d never met and hadn’t even known existed.”
Houston pressed closer, bracing his hands on the wall on either side of me. I breathed in his scent of leather and spice, trying to slow my chaotic thoughts.
“I was twelve the night I met Tom Rutledge II. My uncle sold my innocence to him, in order to cancel out any debts between the two of them.” Flashes of that night filled my mind. The confusion. Pain. How dirty I felt after, no matter how much I’d scrubbed my skin. “I saw him nearly every night after that until I turned sixteen and my breasts finally developed.”
The sound Houston let loose was a mix of anguish and fury. He slammed his fist into the wall three times, putting a hole through the plaster.
“I let that monster, that… rapist… a fucking pedophile into my clubhouse! Invited him in with open arms. Then I dragged you down there and forced you to offer yourself up to him.” Houston took a ragged breath. “Fuck! Dammit, Ginger. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Like what? Tell you I’d rather be a whore for your club, where at least I had a roof over my head, food in my belly, and it was my choice for men to touch me? That I’d prefer that to what Bruno liked doing to me, now that I’m too old for Tom. You’d have looked at me with disgust. Known I was dirty.”
He cupped my cheek, his hand slightly shaking. “Don’t ever call yourself dirty again, you hear me? I was such an asshole when you showed up, and I’ve been one ever since. Pushed you away. Tried to make you feel like you’re ugly and unwanted.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why did you do all that?”
His body sagged, and he sank onto the chair nearby, pulling me with him. He wrapped his arms around me and held on, running his fingers up and down my spine. “I knew you were young. Barely eighteen. I thought you had a future that was better than being a club whore. I didn’t want you here, throwing away your chance at a good life.”
“So you tried to push me away?” I asked.
He nodded. “We’re not bad men, Ginger. When you went upstairs that first day with Reno and Bronx, we knew they wouldn’t hurt you. Vegas and I had a talk while you were gone. We decided we’d make things difficult for you. We hoped it would push you away, make you leave and not wreck your life.”
He tightened his hold on me, nearly crushing me to him. That’s why he’d been so cruel? So cold? The two of them had tried to force me to leave in order to save me? They’d gone about it the wrong way, but it was kind of sweet.
“Do Reno and Bronx want to keep you?” he asked. “Did they ask you to be their old lady?”
I had no idea what he meant. And no, they hadn’t. It made me curious why he’d thought they would have asked me. I wasn’t anything special. Sure, they’d been nice to me, treated me well. But Houston made it sound like something more was going on. He had to be wrong. Right?
“I need to tell Vegas,” he said. “He needs to know we can’t do business with those men. Or anyone associated with them. No deal is worth it.”
“They know where I am now,” I said. “I can’t hide from them.”
“We won’t let anything happen to you, Ginger. You’re safe here.”
Laughter bubbled up, but I forced it down. Safe. I didn’t know what safe felt like. Not really. I’d thought I’d found it here until they’d invited my tormentors right through the door. I couldn’t blame them. They hadn’t known about my past or my connection to Tom Rutledge II.
“What I said before… about you not being my type? I’m sorry I was so cruel to you. Truth is, I think you’re beautiful, Ginger. Every man in this club does.”
The door opened, and I tensed. I heard the heavy tread of booted steps behind me. “Someone want to fill me in? Why did we just insult the men we’re trying to do business with?”
Vegas. I shivered. He sounded pissed, and it did not convince me he wouldn’t toss me out the moment he found out what was going on. Houston seemed to think otherwise, but how much of my interactions with Vegas had been an act on his part? Maybe he really did dislike me.
“Get those assholes out of here,” Houston said. “Did you not hear what he implied?”
Vegas sighs and leaned against the wall. “Fuck. I’d hoped I was wrong.”
“If you insist on doing business with that man, the entire club will turn on you,” Houston warned. “Once they hear what happened to Ginger, they won’t allow you to do business with those people.”
“Take her back to Bronx and Reno. Those men downstairs are pissed as fuck. We need to do some damage control and get them out of here. We can handle the rest of the mess later. Right now, we just need them gone with as little fuss as possible,” Vegas said.
“I’ll drop her off at their room and head downstairs.” Houston stood with me in his arms and walked back down the hall. He kicked the bottom of the door with his booted foot, refusing to set me down even long enough to open the door.
I heard a growl and cussing on the other side and hoped we hadn’t interrupted Bronx and Reno. I buried my face against Houston, hoping the men wouldn’t be pissed he’d brought me back. When Bronx yanked the door open, I heard him growl.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” Bronx demands.