Chapter 28 Dixie Reflected in my mirror in the brothel's dressing room, naked women crossed the space, but I stared at myself. Checked out my mostly see-through white bikini and the gauzy wrap I'd draped over my shoulders. A gift, ready to be unwrapped. As if they could sense my tension, the other girls were quiet, with only murmurs of conversation and shared glances. They worried about me, I knew that. I might not have been here the longest but I'd mentored many in our craft. Where usually I'd be making suggestions for outfits and makeup, or in how to fuck a particular client to get him to come quicker, I was all up in my own head. Tonight, I was back on the floor. I'd toyed with the idea of making myself available to just a few clients, but instead, I was going to walk out into the receiving room and have someone pick me. That's what I needed. For a new client to choose me above any of the other girls. That way, I'd know I still had a career in sex work. I blew out a breath, straightened my tits in my bra, and left my station. My hands shook on the short walk, but the sounds of the receiving room swallowed me whole, helping with its distraction. It was a busy night, and women draped over the furniture and groups clustered at the bar. Men waited for their friends or were deciding on who they wanted to take to a private room. Act, bitch. I strutted, muscle memory giving me the pose, and all too aware of how many pairs of eyes locked on to me. This was my arena. Out here, I ruled. Even if tonight I was the queen of delulu land. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ ƒindNoᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. A group of three men caught my attention. Even if my body wasn't in the zone, my business sense pinged for what I could charge them. Three on one. Three times the money for only a little longer, as one coming usually skipped to the good part for the others. But it wasn't that which pressed my buttons. It was the girl they'd surrounded. Polly claimed to be twenty. If she was, I was the Virgin Mary. Girl was a lost lamb who'd wandered into the deep dark woods. Or the wrong pool maybe, as they were sharks circling prey. Not one of them had even a hint of kindness in his stare. Smiling for them, I ignored how my skin crawled and beckoned, stealing them away from Polly in a way that had always been easy for me. A look. A promise in my eyes. Polly's fair eyebrows dove together, but I couldn't spare her any mind. In the past, I'd taken tougher clients from gentler girls and I'd do it again. The men approached at a saunter. Their leader, a thirtysomething in a sharp suit, ran his critical gaze over me. With my shoulders back to present my tits, I tilted my head rather than lifting my chin so my almost invisible bandage didn't show. "Available?" His tone was flat. "Sure am. Going solo or did you want your boys in the room?" Without acknowledging the others, he smiled without any emotion touching his eyes. "All of us together. If you can handle it." This was a work outing, I was certain. A large portion of our clientele was made up of men on nights out with colleagues. They'd hit the bars for drinks, call the wives and kids to say goodnight and that they were heading to bed, then find their way to our club. I knew because they'd brag about it. These boys were no exception. No doubt they were repeat customers. No one made it up here without membership. One of them leaned in to whisper to the leader, his gaze glued to the apex of my thighs. I faked a provocative smile and twirled my finger in the air. "Follow this ass, honey." I strutted down the darkened hall, heading for an available room, a low, rhythmic beat from hidden speakers marking my pace. Further on was the sex club where people openly went at it with partners or sex workers, or watched others in the act. Down there, anything went between consenting adults. But up here, a closed door hid us from prying eyes. At an open doorway, I stopped and gestured for my group then closed us into the space. I gave them the usual speech and pointed out where they needed to make payment, keeping my voice low and my moves provocative. Something felt off with the vibe in the room, but I pushed on with it. The leader paid with a tap of his card. "Get your clothes off." He didn't even look at me as he spoke, shrugging off his jacket to hang it by the door. I didn't care. I was mostly naked anyway. Seducing a man with a strip show was second nature, and I arched my back then rolled my hips with my fingers twisting into the straps of my bikini bottoms. "Fucking faster," the leader snapped. That, I wasn't a fan of. I slipped the bikini off and tossed it, trying to keep my feelings off my face. Not easy when I was out of practice. He ran his tongue over his teeth then flashed a look at his boys. "Hold the slut for me." In the centre of the room, the others took my arms. Fear trickled through me. No, I told myself. It was fine. Groups often did this kind of shit. Impress each other with holding down a woman. Usually, I'd get the read on them first and lay down the ground rules. "So we're doing role play⁠-" The leader cut me off. "Shut the fuck up. I chose you for your body, not your mouth." His friend to the right of me brayed, gripping my wrist at the small of my back. "I can think of a few uses for her mouth that'll keep her quiet." The two support guys whooped it up, laughing. They were drunk. More than I'd guessed. The leader poked his tongue into his cheek and stepped up close. His hands landed on my breasts, and he squeezed, crowding into me so I felt his unimpressive erection. That frisson of panic returned, and I dropped his gaze. I didn't like this. What had once been natural had changed. I wasn't in control of this encounter. At some point, I'd lost it, and I hadn't noticed early enough. "She's scared of us." The leader gripped my chin, his eyes icy cold. "You should be, bitch. Whores like you take what we pay for. You'll earn your money tonight. Fuck knows I paid enough for your tight ass." I didn't want this. My mind screamed at me to back out. There were panic buttons around the room, under the edge of the sofa and in hidden recesses. Easy to reach if you lurched for them. We also had cameras and the ability for security to listen in. The problem with that was interpreting role play from reality, but there were signs I could give. Repeated glances at the camera would bring someone running. I slammed down on my wayward thoughts. If I couldn't do this with these specimens of mankind, I had no job here. I'd failed at what Cassie wanted me to do. I couldn't fail at this. "Of course I'm scared. You're all so big," I faked a timid tone. "I don't know how I'll⁠-" "I said shut up. I don't want to hear you. Lay her out. Maybe I'll let one of you use her mouth while I ruin her cunt." His friend to my right crowed. "Yeah, Sullivan. Get in there." Sullivan's fingers went to the buttons of his shirt while his friends towed me backwards to the bed, holding me down. But when he moved into position, his purple-headed mushroom dick in his hand, the guy hadn't suited up. "Condoms are on the shelf," I reminded him. "Why, how diseased are you?" He smiled. I didn't. "Gotta use one." "The fuck I do. This club doesn't hire dirty whores. We asked. So why should I pay for half the experience?" He fisted his cock. I struggled against his friends, rising panic taking me from my place of no control to another time when I'd been in the same position. A long time ago, but the memories rushed fast. "Stop." Sullivan ignored me and grasped my ankle, his fingers digging into my flesh. His friend held my neck, preventing me from angling my head to the camera. He was going to rape me. I couldn't stop them. "What the fuck is that on your throat?" The friend released his grip on my neck like it was radioactive. Sullivan reached out. Before I could flinch, he ripped the slim bandage from my skin. "Fucking hell. Look at that scar." One of the men gripped my chin to extend my neck, peering even more closely. Disgust came quickly. Real, visceral revulsion. I curled in on myself, horrified. They inched away. "Nah, man. I'm not sticking my cock in that. There's something wrong with her." The leader shook his head. His erection wilted. Poor baby. No refunds for being a walking red flag. "What the fuck are they trying here, pushing off damaged goods on us. I'm not paying for a fucking charity case." I twisted away and pressed my fingers over the scar. Yet I couldn't find my words. Not a single one to tell them they were assholes. Sullivan made it easy on me. "Get out. Send someone in who isn't ruined." Naked, humiliated, and horribly close to tears, I opened the door and fled. Dressing and packing my clothes in my room on the cam girls' floor happened in a dream. People spoke to me, I didn't answer. Nor could I reply to the single message I sent security, telling them to kick the guys out. All I knew was that I had to go. I'd tried, I'd taken on new clients, and I'd lost. I'd failed. There was nothing for me here now. I didn't just lose a job. I lost the last piece of who I used to be. The girl who could handle anything. Turned out, she bled out on that boathouse floor, and I was too slow to bury her. In the reaches of my mind, I recognised how triggered I'd become, and how my trauma had mixed in with the guys' shitty words, but it was only when I reached the ground floor of the warehouse that my hold on my emotions cracked. I'd intended to sneak out of the back, but Lovelyn was in the corridor. Her face fell when she saw me. I really liked this girl. We hadn't known each other long-she'd only been on the scene working with Arran for a few months. She gave off sweetheart vibes, from her name down to the flower prints she always seemed to wear. Maybe it was the computer help she'd given me, or the fact that since my injury, she'd never poked her nose into my business. Just accepted me for what I was. Either way, one caring glance from her nearly had me bawling. She swooped in on me with a hug. "What happened?" I couldn't speak. I just shook my head. Lovelyn peered at my face, concern written all over hers. "I can see you're upset. Whoever did that needs a stern talking-to. Should I fetch Arran or Shade?" I shook my head sorrowfully. "Is there anything I can do?" Tears clogged my throat even more. "Talk at me?" "Okay, if you're not ready to speak, I'll babble until you are." I gave a tearful laugh, and Lovelyn continued. "I made a new friend tonight. Someone I think you'll like. You know Convict? It's his woman. I was going to say girlfriend, but I know the game they operate here and how they don't like that term. Claimed woman? I don't know. Anyway, she's lovely. Her name is Emilia Marchant." Marchant. No, oh hell no. My heart iced over. I hadn't heard that name in a long time. I actively avoided reference to that family. I'd blocked out every memory. "Emilia Marchant is Convict's girl?" The words were ashes in my mouth. Lovelyn nodded, the concern in her eyes growing. Further down the corridor, a door swung open, and Tyler emerged with another man behind. I could barely focus on how huge, beautiful Tyler instantly locked on me, or the fact the second guy wore fury that simmered. In another life, Tyler could have been mine. Never in this one. He still looked at me like I was his. That's what made it worse. Folding Lovelyn into one last hug, I squeezed her hands, whispered my goodbye, then fled. "Dixie, wait," she called. I disappeared into the dark night. It was better for everyone this way.