Royce’s arm bands around my waist to hoist me up so that my feet don’t touch the ground, using gravity to press my nose into Troy’s pelvic bone. His dick notches at my pussy’s entrance, and I can hear his heavy, excited breaths as he shoves himself inside me.
My scream makes everyone else’s clothes come off as the guys begin to sing a fucked up version of “happy birthday.” I’d much rather this be my fate than Lexi’s. The lyrics revolve around how much cum they expect to pump me full of, and tears finally begin to fall as their words brand themselves on my soul.
I’m not a person, I’m a fuck toy. And I’m never going to escape this. This is what I deserve though. For Lexi.
Chapter One
Fourteen years later
Silva
The bar is busy as I mix a drink while inclining my head toward the next client to get her order.
“Silva, I need something that’ll make me forget that douchey boys exist,” Mercy requests, sighing.
My brow raises as I hand over a rum and coke to the man next to her who appears amused. Widows Peak is very beta and omega populated, and a large portion of the town is out in force tonight since it’s the beginning of the weekend.
“Do I need to break his kneecaps with my tire iron?” I ask, already starting on her margarita.
Tequila tends to help drown a girl’s bad decisions, and the salt helps to cauterize the emotional wounds.
“What? No!” Mercy laughs, not thinking I’m serious. She’s only been in town for about a month, so she doesn’t know I’m being deadly serious. She came to fill a job as a new hairdresser. “The asshole lied to me and told me he didn’t have a girlfriend.I had no idea she’d been out of town visiting her sister. I’m an idiot.”
“Are you talking about Jason?” I ask.
We have about four thousand residents who live here, and I’ve made a point of knowing who they all are. Most of them have also had their backgrounds checked when they moved here. I don’t like to leave things to chance, and this is our safe haven. We worked damn hard to get here.
“Ugh, maybe I need to let you vet all of my hookups from now on,” she grumbles, making my lips twitch in amusement.
I don’t smile often, but my face is very expressive. If I don’t like you, I’ll tell you as much without saying a word.
“I’m not against it,” I say, shaking up her drink. “Salt ring?”
“The better to exorcise the demons with.” Mercy snorts, making me smirk.
I think she’ll be just fine. Finishing her drink, I set it in front of me and take her money.
“I know who everyone is and often who they’re fucking,” I say, winking at her. “Have fun.”
Moving to the next person, I pull a beer for them from the tap as I quickly glance around the club. Bodies are moving on the dance floor, the neon blue, green, and purple lights are bouncing over everyone, and business is really fucking good tonight.
Ten years ago, I escaped a sex trafficking operation with five other omegas because we didn’t want to be one of Gideon’s Dolls. There’s no life in being an alpha’s perfect little whore. I want to be loud, uncouth, and proud of it. There’s nothing posh about me. It’s exactly how I like it. I’m more likely to act out just because I can.
My sister walks across the club to talk to one of the bouncers, and that makes me smile as I place the beer in front of the man across from me. Emmett is a good guy and an omega. I’m gladshe has him, and that they finally made things official after years of close friendship. She deserves good things in her life.
“Do you want to open a tab?” I ask, waiting for the client’s answer as I set his beer in front of him.
“Sure. I think I’ll stay awhile,” he replies, handing me his card. He’s one of the cops from town, probably out to enjoy his night off. I don’t care enough to pull his name from my mind, so I nod and enter his card into my system.
Lark is a computer expert and our hacking blonde goddess, and she set up a lot of our systems for our businesses. Anyone who can spend the time to explain my payment system to me without making things complicated is immediately moved to the front of the line as one of my favorite people. I suppose it doesn’t hurt that we’ve spent so much time getting to know each other.
She’s definitely one of the good ones, despite the mess of trauma that binds us together.
“What can I get you?” I ask, continuing on to the next person.
I spend most of the night slinging drinks. I love being busy, the issue for me is when I’m alone at night with only my thoughts to keep me company. I much prefer being run off my feet, surrounded by people.
They help keep the memories of my past away.
