Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
The chances of the club destroying Dax and his business before these two girls are sold is slim to none.
I feel like I’m watching someone walk to a cliff and step over the edge, only my hands are tied, I’m gagged, and I can do nothing but watch as they plunge to their death.
“Thank you,” I say softly, because I really just want her to go.
Yet I want her to stay.
I feel a little unwell right now.
“How are you enjoying the lake?” she asks me, sitting down.
“It’s nice. I haven’t been away like this since I was a child. I’m enjoying the peace.”
It’s a lie.
I’m not enjoying it.
I want to scream.
“Me too,” she tells me softly. “I’m glad not to be sleeping on the streets, or at a random stranger’s house. It’s horrible when you don’t have a home.”
God.
She doesn’t have a home.
I take a long sip of the vodka she gave me, not even pausing to taste it.
It’s sweet—that’s enough for me.
“I’m sorry things were that bad for you,” I say, staring at her.
“You haven’t slept on a street?”
“Not yet,” I say quickly. “But I have a cruel ex, and no family, and I’m so glad to be here.” I want to vomit.
“I’m sorry. Cruel boyfriends are the worst. I just got away from one myself. He . . . he gave me a lot of drugs. I’m struggling, to be honest. It’s all I can think about. Have you ever had that feeling?”
Please stop.
Sweet girl, please stop.
“Yes,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
“I’m so glad Dax appeared when he did. He . . . he has given me life again. I’ve met some wonderful people, I have a nice bed to sleep in, and he has given me more food than I could imagine . . .”
Oh.
Don’t.
Just don’t.
“I also like Yates. He seems super nice and wants to take me on a date next week. I haven’t been on a date in . . . well never.”
I don’t know what to do. My body feels stiff and my heart is racing. I turn to her and am about to open my mouth and say something stupid like ‘Yates asked me out, too’ or anything to make her reconsider seeing him.
But Dax appears, and looks at the two of us, smiling. “Are you ladies enjoying your evening?”
“Yes,” Bobbie says, her voice soft. “Thank you.”
“Bobbie, I think Yates is wondering where you are.”
“Oh.” She finally smiles, and it breaks my heart into a thousand pieces. “I better go and find him.”
She stands and leaves, and I can’t stop it. I can’t help the lone tear that rolls down my cheek. I feel like I’m going to explode into a bucket of emotions. I can barely keep the stress from bubbling out. I’m strong, probably the stronger than most, and yet this is breaking me. It’s ripping me apart from the inside out. I feel like I’m here, doing something to stop the trafficking, and yet I’m not doing enough to stop it.
I’m hanging on the end of a rope right now—one slip and I’m done.
“Hey,” Dax says, sitting beside me.
He takes my face in his hands, and my head spins a little. It’s almost like one sip of that drink has pushed me over the edge from being tipsy to drunk. That’s weird.
I stare at his face, and the tears burst forth. I can’t stop them. No matter what I do, I can’t stop them. Dax actually has the nerve to look sad, to look like he’s worried about me, to look like he cares.
When was the last time someone looked at me like that?
It only makes me cry harder.
I’m lonely, I’m scared, and now I’ve been drinking.
“It’s okay, hey. Shhhh.”
Dammit.
Why must he comfort me?
Why must he confuse my drunken mind?
“Why are you crying, beautiful girl?”
No.
Please.
“I’m just . . . I don’t know . . .” I say, and then turn my face away.
If I look at him, if he says any more nice things, I may not be able to help myself from caving to his kindness. It’ll make it worse, and I can’t handle worse right now.
I can’t handle it.
“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky and damn him. Damn him. Damn him.
“You wouldn’t understand,” I say, keeping my face turned away.
“Try me.”
I look to him. I need to push my act. I need to bring it further to the surface. If I let it slip now, it’ll all go to hell.
“Do you know what it’s like to live a horrible life, Dax?” I ask, because even though I don’t know the answer to that, it’s a question that would make sense for me to ask right now.
“Yes,” he tells me, his voice low.
I’m stunned. For a second, I stare at him in confusion. I didn’t actually expect him to say that.