I’ve been on the run for months. No destination in mind, I just have to keep moving. I can’t let them find me.
Then I make a mistake. I get into a car with Caleb Spade, owner of one of Calamity City’s biggest casinos, and part of the Spade Mob Family. He’s got no intention of letting me leave. Well, I’m not going to be a meek little toy for him. Anybody I can seduce is fair game.
Vortex, a mob enforcer who can’t keep his eyes–or hands–off me.
Havoc, the army vet with a chip on his shoulder and an anger management problem and a craving for my pain.
And Caleb Spade himself, a man with control issues a mile wide who wants me on my knees and obedient.
I’m gambling with my body, but I know I can pull it off. I have to. If I fail, I’ll have three dark, violent men demanding payment in blood… or worse.
At least it’s just my body, and not my heart. I can’t ever let anyone have that.
Updates once per week. UNEDITED DRAFT. Content notes apply only to this part.
Out of all the places to be hitchhiking, I’ve probably chosen the worst.
The sun is high in the sky, just a little after noon. The soles of my boots aren’t thick enough to protect against the heat from the asphalt. My last water bottle is getting dangerously close to empty.
I glance down the long highway road in both directions. Mountains on both ends, but I have no idea which one is closer to civilization.
“What do you think, Nacho?” I ask, hefting him a little higher. He butts his head against my jaw and keeps purring, oblivious to how precarious our situation is.
Of course, he’s the reason we’re out here in the first place. The last trucker freaked when he found out there was a cat in my backpack, and he made me get out immediately, never mind that we’re in the middle of the fucking desert and he potentially condemned us to death via dehydration, exposure, or both.
At least I’ve got a hat and a light jacket, but I’m not managing to walk however many miles to the next truck stop.
I need a goddamn miracle.
I glance back the way we came again, and I wish I’d waited the few days for the next long-haul bus. But my gut was getting antsy staying in one place for so long, and a free ride was better than using up my meager — stolen — funds on a bus ticket.
My eyes widen when I spot an SUV coming our way. It’s the first car I’ve seen in over an hour. The previous two hadn’t stopped for me, and the one before that had slowed down, opened the window to look at me, and scoffed.
“Thought you were a chick,” the guy had said before driving off again.
“I would have blown him in exchange for a ride,” I tell Nacho. “Probably better than any woman stupid enough to hitchhike out in the desert.” I look in the direction of the SUV again. “Let’s see if this person wants me to blow them.”
I put Nacho back into my backpack—and he meows pitifully but doesn’t attempt to jump out. I leave the top open so he can stick his head out if he wants. After I’ve got him secure on my back, I walk in the direction of the SUV, my thumb out in the universal “please, please stop” signal.
It takes longer than I thought for the SUV to reach me. That’s the problem with these desert roads. They’re so flat, and the air is so clear, that you can see for miles and it’s damn near impossible to estimate just how far anything is.
The SUV slows down, and I sigh in relief. Whoever it is, whatever they want, I’ll give it to them. I just need to get out of here.
The back window rolls down. A handsome man, late thirties, leans out. His brown hair is brushed back, he’s only got a hint of scruff, and his expression is cold. He’s also wearing a suit, and I’m not sure if that’s good or bad news.
“Hiking in the desert is a bad idea,” the man says.
I fight not to scowl at him. Of course it’s a bad idea. It’s tantamount to suicide. I’m not stupid.
But I smile prettily at him, tilting my head in my best impersonation of someone too stupid to understand the implications of what I’ve done. “Gosh, ain’t that the truth,” I say with a laugh. “It sounded like a good idea in theory, though!”
The man’s eyebrows rise, and I can feel the disdain radiating off him from just that one gesture.
“I’ll give you a lift…” His eyes rake over me. “But it won’t be free.”
I bat my eyelashes at him. “Sure. What’s your price, handsome?”
He lets out a small chuckle. “That easy?” He opens the door for me though, and slides away so I have space to enter.
“That easy,” I confirm, sliding into the car with him. I wipe away the sweat from my brow, wishing I was clean and free of dust and grime. But it’s been a long walk, and it wasn’t like I took a shower in preparation for leaving…
I force those thoughts away, which is easier than expected because Nacho decides to announce his presence with a mighty meow that belies his kitten status.
“Stowaway,” I explain blithely.
Nacho pokes his head out of my backpack.
The man is surprised to see him, and for several seconds just stares at the cat.
“Boss?” the driver asks. “Everything fine?”
The “boss” shakes his head. “Yes. Do continue, Vortex.”
Vortex.
I fight the urge to rub at my temples. Names like “Vortex” never bode well, especially when they’re calling someone else “boss” instead of Mr. Smith or whatever. The people I’ve met with names like that have had reasons to hide their true identities — and those reasons are never good.
Mine included.
My wariness ramps up several levels, and I almost wish I hadn’t gotten into the car.
Almost.
The car starts up again, and the boss angles himself so he’s facing me. “So. Perhaps we should start with introductions. Who are you, kitt—” He stops himself and looks at Nacho. “I suppose you should introduce the cat as well.”
I grin at him. “The cat’s Nacho. I’m Seven. You’re ‘Boss,’ right?”
“Seven?” He gives me a considering look. “As in, ‘lucky number seven’?”
“You got it,” I confirm.
Like I’m really going to tell him my real name. Hard pass.
“Not very lucky, if you got caught out here on foot.” ‘Boss’ extends his hand to Nacho, who sniffs it curiously.
“But you stopped for me. I’d call that lucky,” I counter, fighting the urge to pull my cat back out of his reach.
“Indeed.” He grins at me. “Perhaps you are in luck after all. My name is Caleb Spade, and I run the Roi de Pique Casino in Calamity City. Which is where we’re heading.”
“Perfect,” I say despite the way my heart is pounding so quickly. I can’t stay in Calamity. I just can’t. There’s too much of a chance of being caught there. “That’s where I was heading. If you can drop me off at the bus station, that’d be amazing.” I bat my eyelashes at him, slowly setting my hand on his thigh. “I’ll make it worth your while, Mr. Spade.”
“The bus station?” Caleb shakes his head with a smile. “It would be remiss of me to not feed you and let you shower first, wouldn’t it? You look like you need it.” He reaches out and runs his knuckles along my jaw. “And you did offer to pay me.”
I curse myself for running my mouth, but the perky smile on my lips never drops.
“Oh, I’d just get dirty again on the bus!” I chuckle. “And I can grab something to eat on the way. Tell you what.” I slide my hand higher up his thigh. “I can pay you right now.”
Caleb snorts and grabs my wrist. “There’s hardly enough room here for anything. And poor Vortex, he’d get such an earful with no way to take the edge off.”
I couldn’t give less of a damn about “poor Vortex,” who is obviously a grown man capable of keeping it in his pants no matter what kind of a show he gets. I cautiously try to pull my hand away, but Caleb’s hold on my wrist doesn’t loosen. If anything, it gets tighter.
Of fucking course I had to go and get myself picked up by someone who doesn’t just want a quick BJ in the back of the car.
“I can still make it worth your while,” I hint, but my attention is caught by Nacho wriggling loose of the bag. The fleabitten himbo of a cat climbs out, crossing over my arm and heading straight for Caleb.
Caleb smiles down at Nacho and pets his little orange head. “We should feed him and get him a nice, soft bed too. With a door between us. Nobody wants a pet interrupting them.”
“Nacho doesn’t mind,” I say immediately. “Wise beyond his years. I suspect he’s a bit of a voyeur, really.”
“Then we have that in common.” Caleb scratches behind Nacho’s ears. “You enjoy being seen, Seven? We could arrange that.”
No.
No, I don’t like being seen. I don’t even really like to be touched, but I’m not stupid enough to think that I can get out of that.
But I’ll pretend to like anything that can get me out of this trap.
“Anything you want, sir,” I purr. “But I really have to insist on a trip to the bus station after we’re… finished.”
Caleb finally releases my hand, but he slings that arm over my shoulder. “Your negotiation skills are terrible. ‘Anything you want’ is liable to get you into a situation you don’t enjoy. For example, in my suite, chained to the bed, while I fuck your pretty twink ass raw.”
I can feel my cheeks draining of color, and it takes me a moment to gather myself. No. No. I’m not going to be chained down again, not going to be used and abused and treated like I’m just a toy for anyone else.
“I didn’t realize I was negotiating with a sadist,” I say as lightly as possible, wishing my laugh sounded as airy as intended instead of full of anxiety. “Okay. I’ll give you the best blowjob of your life, then I’ll be on my way while I’m still a twink of mystery.”
Instead of a fucked-out twink who barely remembers what it’s like to smile because all I want to do is cry.
“There’s one rule I adhere to when I enter negotiations,” Caleb says. “Always start in a position of power.”
Right. Like I’ve ever been in a position of power. Like I could ever dream of being in a position of power right now, when he’d just kept me from going to an early grave from heatstroke or worse.
He pulls my hat off, then uses his other hand to tap along my chin, drawing me back to the conversation. “Your current choices are to do what I want, or to get thrown back out into the desert.”
“Of course I’m going to do what you want,” I say with the most flirtatious smile I can muster. “But it’s not like you’re going to want me around for long, and Nacho and I have places to see and things to do.”
“Then a short break in my home, with all the comforts that my wealth affords, will hardly be a problem.” Caleb’s smile turns darker. “It’s not really a request.”
Yeah. I hadn’t thought it was, but miracles happen.
“Maybe your name is indeed apt,” Caleb says. “I feel quite lucky to have stumbled across you in the desert.”
I don’t feel lucky at all.
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