Chapter 9
Heathen
My gut twists, knotting up inside of me, as I watch the group of women parade through the door, each one lining up perfectly over the small dots on the floor without even having to look, as if they've done it a million times.
I know why I'm here, but if a SWAT team raided this place right now, what would I even be able to tell them? I feel like scum just sitting here and witnessing this display.
Disgust eats away at me as I look at each of their smiling faces.
The one on the end winks at me, as if we share a secret, and I have to look away, bile threatening its way up the back of my throat. I swallow against the burn and keep my eyes moving, as if I'm legitimately here to find a subservient wife willing to give me anything I command of her.
What have they been promised to be in this situation?
Usually, these places have contracts, but it's always more than a piece of paper that keeps them compliant. More often than not, legal documents and visas are held prisoner until they satisfy some sort of obligation created by the person running the show. Even if they satisfy the initial agreement, the marker is always being moved, making it just out of reach, no matter how many times they meet the goals set by others.
It's heartbreaking to me to see the smiles, the overdone makeup, the way each of them puffs up their chest when I move my eyes to them.
Not one smile reaches their eyes, but at least they have no visible bruises in the slinky dresses they're all wearing.
"You like?" Edmon asks, angling his head toward the line of women.
I know it would be suspicious to just send them out and ask for more, so I stand and walk around them, looking at them without actually looking at them.
"I'm not really into blondes," I mutter as I look down the line and attack their one common feature.
"Her hair is dyed," Edmon says, pointing to one in the middle, and I almost chuckle at the rage in her eyes at being singled out in a less-than-complimentary way.
"Do you have more?" I ask, needing to get this damn thing going.
I don't even know if it's possible that they would have Kaylee out in the line so soon. Since I saw her the other day, I don't want to think about what a woman would go through in order to become compliant so quickly. She didn't seem like the type of person to toe the line with a smile on her face.
With a wave of his hand, the women turn and begin walking toward the door they entered the room through.
"Ask for Keesa," the one who winked at me urges before she leaves the room.
I walk back to the sofa and take a seat, doing my best to look bored with the offerings. But the entire time, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to get all these women out of there, while also considering the repercussions of doing so.
The door opens once again and another group of women come out, each one with smiles that don't reach their eyes.
Once again, I can't see any bruises or evidence of physical harm, but that doesn't mean they haven't been hurt either.
Kaylee is not in the lineup, and I have to go through the same stupid process of walking around them as if analyzing each of them before I ask for more.
"You're a hard man to please," Edmon says, and I can recognize the annoyance in his tone, making me wonder if most dirty bastards come in and pick from the first group.
"I know exactly what I'm looking for," I say with my head high and a challenge in my eyes.
He dips his head in acknowledgment just as another group of women walks into the room.
My gut twists once again as each woman walks out and it's not Kaylee.
"Jesus fuck!"
Just when I thought all hope was lost, the woman in question catches her toe on the threshold of the door and sprawls like a baby giraffe on the floor.
She's muttering to herself, literally cursing her own existence, as the other women cover their laughter with their hands.
Edmon clearing his throat puts a stop to the chuckles, and it tells me just how much power the man has over the women.
"Shit," she hisses as she tries to get back on her feet. "Sorry."
She stands, running her hands down her dress and cringing as if the texture of the fabric makes her sick to her stomach.
She looks much different than she did two days ago. Gone are the jeans, t-shirt, and grocery-store-issued apron. She's in a slinky gold dress that completely washes out her skin tone and black heels that give her a handful more inches on her short stature.
She sweeps hair from her face and looks down the line of women, her lip curling a little when she gets to Edmon standing at the end.
Instead of looking happy when she turns her gaze in my direction, her eyes narrow, and she looks just as irritated as she did when I bumped into the cereal box display, as if I'm only there to ruin her night.
At least she recognizes me, but I don't give her any hint that I know her.
My pulse is raging. The fact that she's actually here and I can help her makes me want to jump for joy, but I know we could both be in a serious amount of danger if the big burly man at the end of the line suspects anything.
I stand, doing my best to look bored, praying it isn't suspicious that I start on the opposite end of the line, furthest away from Kaylee, despite having started at her end with the previous two groups.
"Very pretty," I say, walking past one of the smiling women. "What's her name?" I ask Edmon, faking interest in another woman.
"Helene," he says.
"Helena," the woman corrects.
I dip my head and give her a smile, wondering if she's actually interested in me when her cheeks flush a pretty pink color.
"And this one?" I ask pointing at Kaylee.
"Natural brunette," Edmon answers. "But I think you'd be happier with someone else."
"Is there something wrong with her?"
Edmon pulls in a deep breath before shaking his head. He anticipates her causing me problems and leaving here without her would more than likely put her in danger. She could very easily be pulled from any and all lineups after sprawling out on the floor and cursing like a sailor.
"I think she fits the bill," I mutter as I make a circle around her.
I swear the woman growls at me from deep in her gut, and the name she calls me is something I never would've imagined her saying. I fight a smile at how annoyed she is despite the situation she has managed to get us both in. Does she not understand how deadly this situation could turn?
"I think I'd like to get to know her better," I say while looking directly at her.
Her eyes widen, and it's as if it's the first time that she's realizing that there's a possibility of something happening to her that she doesn't want.
"I can give you five minutes," Edmon says, stalking across the room and waving a hand at another door on the far wall.
"Five minutes?" I ask. "Doesn't seem like it'll be long enough. I'm choosing the love of my life after all."
Edmon laughs like I've told a joke before opening the door and reaching in to flip on the light.
"After you," I tell Kaylee when she continues to glare at me.
Her eyes narrow even further, but after a long breath, she turns and wobbles toward the room.
I know the room will be monitored. I know I can't just go in there and explain what the hell is going on. I have to be creative and it's why I press myself fully against her the second the door is pulled closed with us inside the room.
"What are you—"
I grab her wrists and hold them down at her sides when she attempts to push me away, leaning my head in as close to her ear as I can manage without brushing my lips against the lobe.
"Do you have any fucking idea how dangerous a place like this is?" I growl. "What the hell were you thinking?"
She freezes, making me realize my entire body is against hers. I put an inch or so of distance between us but keep my mouth close to her ear.
"You're in danger," I whisper.
"From sickos like you who think it's okay to pick a woman from a line to marry," she mutters, but her body has lost some of the tension. "I want you to leave."
"I'm not here to find a wife," I argue. "I'm here to find you."
She jerks her head back, eyes scanning mine, as if she can't believe what I've just told her.
"What? How? Why ?"
I shake my head. "Now isn't the time to discuss this."
She opens her mouth again but snaps it closed when I shake my head.
"The room is being monitored. Look over my left shoulder."
The tiny gasp that she releases tells me that she can see the camera in the corner of the room.
"You're in danger, and if you cause another scene and don't let this play out, then I'm in danger as well."
The way she glares at me tells me she isn't too concerned for me at this point.
"Pick someone else. I need to stay."
"Do you have any idea what will happen to you if I leave and someone else comes and picks you?"
Her jaw flexes but she remains silent, the hint of a tear forming on her bottom lash.
"There's another woman," she whispers, eyes still searching mine. "I need to know what happened to her."
"I can help you figure that out, but I can't leave you here."
She still shakes her head.
"You're willing to stay and be married off to some creepy asshole who is going to fondle you and do all sorts of unforgivable things to you so you can try and figure out what happened to your friend?"
Even with this information, I don't know that I've convinced her.