The tall guy scoffed. "The punters won't care if she has a few scratches on her. All they care about are tits and holes."
Oh god. Was he forcing me into prostitution?
"True," the second guy conceded. "She's special, though, so if anything happens to her, it's on your head, not mine."
"For fuck's sake, fine!" The tall one lifted me up and tossed me over his shoulder. The movement sent my already churning stomach into freefall and I immediately vomited down his back. I heard him yell in disgust before he dropped me like a sack of potatoes.
"You fucking filthy bitch!" A boot drove into my ribs, causing a burst of pain so visceral that I vomited all over again, heaving up the last of the pastries I'd eaten earlier.
The sound of a gunshot made me scream in shock as I lay on the floor, curled into a fetal position to protect my body from more kicks.
"I fucking told you to be careful with the girl," a third man snarled as my attacker hit the floor with half of his face missing. The corpse's one remaining eye stared at me accusingly as blood pooled beneath the shattered skull.
I closed my eyes to block out the disturbing sight. If the asshole who'd kicked me was now dead, it meant I had value. Whoever was behind this did not intend to hurt me. For now, at least.
It also meant there was one less guard watching me.
"Get her inside. The boss is waiting." A short, fat guy with prison tattoos on his neck dragged me toward a ramshackle old house with ivy-clad cream stone walls. The stonework had crumbled in places, but the thick entrance door appeared solid with a heavy-duty lock.
I desperately needed a drink to wash away the vile taste in my mouth.
The guard gripping my arm so hard it would surely leave bruises took me through a large reception area with a tiled floor, down a hallway where wallpaper peeled off the walls in moldy strips, and into a large gloomy room with tall windows overlooking an overgrown garden. Cobwebs hung from an antique chandelier, adding to the gothic vibe.
I got the impression this place had once been grand, but not now. Outside, tall grass choked what remained of the shrubs,while an empty swimming pool yawned like a gaping black mouth just beyond.
A man in a shabby suit stood by the fireplace with a glass in his hand. He turned around when we entered, and my heart stuttered in my chest at the sight of my father.
It had been so long since I'd seen the monster who sired me, I probably wouldn't have paid him a second glance if we passed in the street. His broad frame had shrunk with age, and his thick black hair had turned gray. The once-handsome face that lingered in my nightmares was now crepey and sallow.
Prison had not been kind to him.
The soulless eyes that lingered on in my nightmares had lost none of their malice, however.
"Daughter, you have grown into a lovely young woman. So much like your dear departed mother, God rest her soul." He scanned me from head to toe, assessing my worth.
I wanted to feel something.Anything. But there was nothing. This man had contributed 50 percent of my DNA, but he wasn't my father. He'd done nothing to keep me safe or nurture me as a child.
It was hard not to shrivel under his amused gaze, but I straightened my back and glared at him, determined not to show any signs of weakness.
"Why am I here?"
Surprise flickered across his face.
"No hug for your Papa?" His lips curled. "You wound me,figlia."
"You didn't answer my question." I tried to maintain a calm and unfazed expression, like Thea would have in this situation, but I couldn't hide the tremor in my voice.
"You're my daughter. I've missed you."
I almost scoffed. "You never gave a shit about me."
His half-smile spoke volumes as he observed me like a snake watching a mouse. “You were the weak one. I had more use for your sister.” The sting of his words cut deep. He was right, though. I had always been the weak one in our fucked-up family.
“Let me go. Like you said, I’m useless.”
The door opened behind me and footsteps echoed through the sparsely furnished room.
“Sorry, but your father has agreed to let me take you in payment for my help.” I recognized the voice. It was the man from the club. The asshole who put his hands on me. The bastard Declan threatened to kill.
