here, I did. But they were people with lives. Families, mothers and fathers, husbands, wives, kids.
“Yeah.” She wrinkled her nose. “He saw me in a play, came to the back door every night for a week with flowers and promises. He was charming, and I was young. Thought it was love. I was looking for an escape from that penniless life and thought he was it.” Her gaze went to the floor, agony slicing over her expression. “He was the opposite.”
There was a moment of quiet, her past life haunting the room, stinging my heart.
“I’m so sorry.”
She let out a shaky breath, forcing a smile on her face. “No worries, luv. He’s long gone, and I couldn’t be happier.”
“He’s dead?”
“One can hope.” She shrugged one shoulder. “He disappeared years ago after one of his business deals went bad. He was into a lot of shady shit, always trying to find the quick, easy way to make money, which usually went the opposite way. Had a lot of enemies. Left me with a lot of debt from really bad men. Madam Kitty took me in. Saved me.”
“Saved you?”
“She paid them off so they wouldn’t kill me. I slowly work off what I can each month.” She smiled through a twinge of grief. “I’m a lifer here.”
Would my life have been so different if I married Sergiu? I would have luxury, but I’d be trapped, paying off my debt in sex and abuse. At least here, Kitty protected her girls.
“Warwick and my husband shouldn’t even be in the same sentence. Your man is nothing like him.”
“Not my man.” I gritted my teeth.
She ignored me, continuing, “His type of dominance is something most of us dream about: feral, rough, passionate. He could make you explode into a million blissful particles. But I’m still all for causing trouble.”
“Good,” I replied. “Because I have no notion of staying put.” I put my hand on my hip. “Just a few things I need: water, painkillers, breakfast, and an outfit that won’t make me stand out.”
Rosie’s smile grew slowly, mischief glowing her face. “Oh luv, you came to the right woman.”
“Be careful,” Rosie whispered as she peered out the back door first, checking the alleyway for people. “Causing mischief is one thing, but Warwick actually wanting to kill me is another.”
“I promise.” I tucked back into the hood. The late summer weather heated the air and soaked into the buildings, causing beads of sweat to pool under my garments.
Rosie was able to track down enough clothes left from customers to allow me to disappear into a crowd. Faded colors of blacks, dark greens, and grays. The cargo pants, cotton tank, and hooded cotton jacket were loose, submerging my identity under the clothing.
“It’s a little warm for this, but you won’t stand out,” she had said earlier when she pulled me into her room. She peered down at my lacy underwear and silk tank I had worn to sleep, her mouth pursuing information about Warwick again. “Wore that to bed? Small bed with such a huge man. Wasn’t he only wearing an itty-bitty towel?”
“Shut up,” I growled, not wanting to think about the night before. I would stuff that memory back into a box, never to see the light of day again.
She sniggered, tossing me a handful of clothes. “Get dressed and come down to the kitchen. Painkillers, water, and food await.”
Once fed, dressed, and medicated, I felt a little better. I still ached, and I had a noticeable limp, but my plan was set, my determination locked to go.
I wasn’t going out of my way to be a brat to Warwick by leaving. I was taking my life into my own hands. I was going home.
In prison, I learned trust was not something given freely, if at all. You looked out for yourself. And to a man who was riddled with mystery and secrets, no matter what tiny insight he confided, in the end, trust didn’t amount to much. He wouldn’t even tell me why he aided in my escape, which meant he was hiding something. He was looking out for himself as I needed to do for me. As he was disappearing each morning and up to something, and it would be very naïve of me to think the Wolf suddenly had my best interest at heart.
We couldn’t be far from the wall dividing Leopold and the neutral zone. Any soldier on patrol along the wall would know my face. I was good at melding, slinking