I held my breath as my pimp, my owner, pressed me up against the wall, his brown eyes blazing and electric. He was the devil. Beautiful and brutal and way bigger than me.
I should have kept my stupid mouth shut. I should have never questioned the money I earned. I should have never forgotten that he paid me, not the other way around. I fucking knew better. My mouth always ran away with me at the wrong time.
Stupid, Devon. Stupid.
My throat hurt like knives choking me from his tight grip on it, but I swallowed, lowering my eyes and nodding, willing myself to agree and submit.
“You are nothing, Devon, just a used-up whore. Try that shit again, and I swear to God, I’ll punish you, and let me tell you, you have no fucking clue what I can do to you.” He released his hold on me but grabbed my chin, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Understood?” His breath smelled like cinnamon gum and a trace of beer.
Frozen, I held his gaze. “Understood, TJ.”
He nodded slowly and looked me up and down. “Now take a fucking shower. You stink.”
As soon as he left my room, slamming the door behind him, I slunk to the floor. I hated his ass, fucking hated him. I hated the fact that I needed him. I hated being broke, being destitute, being stuck in this fucking situation that I couldn’t seem to get out of. A hopeless merry-go-round of shit.
But not helpless, a small part of me said. Momma didn’t raise no fool, even if she was just as shitty as TJ. No, I was never helpless.
All I needed to do was lick my wounds for a bit, regroup, and stick to my plan of getting the hell out of this city.
When I came here a few months ago, after Mike cheated on me with that bitch Cara, I was determined to clean myself up, get my shit together, and start a new life for myself in a new place far away from my hometown. I had done it, too. Finally gotten away, something I had sworn to myself I’d do right after I hit eighteen. It took me a few years to do it, but I did it.
I should’ve known better, though. Things never worked out for me. I was twenty-five years old with not a damn thing to my name, selling sex, living under the thumb of a psychopath drug dealer. Yeah, I was a true fucking winner.
By the time I’d taken a shower, it was late. I was looking forward to a night of nothing. TJ had me on probation until further notice. My plan was to veg out and eat ice cream until I passed out.
TJ kept the house well-stocked with food, at least. For the most part, he treated his girls decently on that front, supplying us with just the right amount of stuff to not feel too ungrateful for what he offered. He was still the scum he pretended not to be, though.
I left my room and went in search of the kitchen, grabbing the ice cream container and a spoon, then went into the living. One of the girls here at the house, Kay, was sitting on the couch, a styrofoam cup of ramen noodles steaming in her face. She looked up when I came in, eyeing my ice cream. The TV was on, showing some girl looking scared out of her mind as a teenage boy had her pinned against a locker.
Even in TV land, you couldn’t get away from that shit. Men and their damn needs, bullying women of all ages. Made me want to scream.
“Hey, Kay. How’s it going?” I asked her as I took a seat beside her on the couch. Both of us were wearing fluffy robes; hers with Minnie Mouse, mine with floral skulls.
She shrugged and blew on her noodles. “Same old shit, different night.”
I nodded in agreement and dug into the frozen banana and walnut goodness.
“Heard you and TJ got into it. Blair said you talked smack about your cut.”
I groaned around a spoonful of ice scream and turned my head toward her. Kay was staring at the TV, her beautiful face in profile, dark, tight curls piled up high on her head with some kind of bandana thingy.
Kay had once told me, in one of those rare moments where she was talkative, that she had been hooking since she was