Page 17 of Sold to the Bikers
I don’t want them to send me back.
Being very careful not to get nosy, I make the bed and start sorting the dirty clothes into a plastic bin in the corner. I grab a handful of paper towels and peek behind a door, hoping to find a bathroom with a sink I can use to wet them. There is, but there’s also another door on the far side that I’m guessing leads to a different guy’s room, so I get out of there ASAP. I’m wiping down the crate Animal uses as a bedside table when the door opens.
They’re back.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Animal stands in the doorway with his hand on the knob, and his friends are right behind him. They’re all staring at me like I’m insane.
“I—I—”
“Are you fucking cleaning,” Badass asks in disbelief, before busting out a deep, belly laugh.
Quickshot joins in. “I told you this place was a fucking sty.”
“Shut the fuck up. My quarters are fine.” Animal rushes over and grabs the paper towels out of my hand, throwing them into the corner and missing the trash. “God dammit, girl. We didn’t buy you to be our fucking maid.”
“I know, but you didn’t want to have sex with me, so—”
“What?” He gives me a funny look. “Of course I want to fuck you.”
“Oh!” I take a little hopping step backwards in my bare feet.
“Stop scaring her,” Badass snaps.
Animal rolls his eyes. “I didn’t mean right now. I mean, unless—”
“Keep your dick in your pants. Nobody’s fucking anybody until we talk,” Quickshot says. “Sit down, babe.”
It’s like I can’t do anything right, but I do what he says. I don’t understand where this is going. I just want to be sure they’re happy with their purchase, because that’s my fastest route to getting off the hook.
Badass sits down on the sofa next to me, making me lean into him when the cushion dips in his direction. He catches me, but instead of righting me, he pulls me even closer and squeezes my shoulder. “You’re fine, honey.”
Instead of being scary, it’s comforting. I’m used to being attention starved, not getting a lot of touch. It got better when Sandra came back home, but maybe that’s why I find it so easy to snuggle up against his massive frame instead of pulling away. Despite the situation, he gives off a protective vibe that calms me.
Quickshot pushes a couple of motorcycle parts aside and sits on the table, resting his hand on his thighs as he leans closer. His cool gray eyes examine me closely, looking me up and down so intensely that worry creeps back into the back of my mind.
“First up, how much do you owe?”
Oh God. I’ve been trying to put the enormity of the number out of my head as much as possible, because every time I have to remember, it feels like there’s a fist squeezing my heart into a tiny ball.
“A hundred…” I mumble.
“Speak up.”
I close my eyes, draw a breath for strength, then release it “A hundred thousand.”
“Fuck,” Animal groans. “How the fuck did you manage that?”
Quickshot waves him off. “We’ll deal with it after. Now we need you to be fucking honest with us. No one’s judging, but if getting cut off’s going to be an issue, you need to own up.”
“What?” I look from one face to the next. They’re all watching me expectantly and I have no idea what he’s even talking about.
Badass gives me another small hug. “Withdrawals, honey. I don’t see track marks or nothing, but not everything is visible.”
“What? No!” Oh my God. I can’t believe they—
Then I remember Sandra when she finally got away from her scummy ex-boyfriend, and why I took her to professionals. All these guys know about me is that I’m willing to sell myself in order to pay off a debt. Of course they think I’m doing stuff. My shoulders slump and I stare down at my hands.
Animal squats at my feet. “We’ve got this. We’ll talk to Doc. He’ll know how to—”