she look as worn out as Chloe? Who was no doubt going to be transitioned to Level 9… because she’d almost earned enough by whoring the hardest.
That was why Chloe had put glass shards in Juanita’s food her first night. Fresh and pretty competition extended this hell. And that’s why Juanita was warned about the glass, just like Eugenia had been—Captain’s orders, no doubt.
That’s what affected their price. How much ride the captain thought he could get out of all of them.
“You look pale, Eugenia.”
The things she had confided in these men. Her history. Her achievements and blunders. Funny childhood stories and the names of her dead parents. Despite never intending to, she had connected with them on an extremely fucked-up level.
And they were all in on it.
She meant to answer with something canned. A general “I’m fine.” But her eyes finally lifted from that tablecloth… and it wasn’t her guests she saw.
It was John.
Perched at Table #6. Having fun as he lined up for a turn. He laughed, though didn’t engage in the banter.
He didn’t have a tongue. The captain had told her so.
She wasn’t sure how she got there, or why she thought a goddamn cookie sheet would serve to kill him. The drag on each swing—thanks to the shape of her chosen weapon—slowed down momentum and reduced impact.
Not that it mattered when sanity had fled. Beating him with all she had, she screamed that she’d kill him for doing this to her. Turning the cookie sheet to its side when it clicked that it would be far more effective to reduce wind resistance.
Going straight for the throat.
Six months!
She’d been on the ship at least six months for him to have earned his way up to Level 15.
When his fist landed in her gut, when he took her down like a linebacker to steal the rest of her air, she refused to let him steal the rest of her life.
Rage fortified. Claws going for the eyes.
Men tried to pull them apart. There was a great deal of shouting when she tore an eyelid.
When she bit back.
“I’ll fucking kill you, John! You’re a dead man!” It took at least three burly men to tear her from her prey. “Don’t think you can hide behind the boys. I’ll find you, you coward! I SAVED YOUR LIFE AND YOU SOLD ME TO MONSTERS!”
One of many who had grappled her to the floor lost a grip and earned a broken nose for it. “Christ, she’s strong, Captain!”
But she didn’t care. Her attention was laser-focused on a boy held back, who was also bleeding, but who was not fighting for freedom. Because he felt safe being male, and she was just a dumb whore.
“You’ll die, John. I’ll see it through!”
Her line of sight was spoiled by an all too familiar face, a person who dared say, “Don’t look at him. Look at me. Hear what I’m saying to you, Eugenia. If you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to calm you down. And I’m asking you not to make me do that.”
Fuck all of it! “Aaron, I can’t do this anymore.” Tears, desperation. All the things she’d kept in. “I can’t.”
Gaze so heavy she’d rather carry a thousand tons, he murmured, “Take a deep breath for me.”
She did, one that shook all the way into her aching ribs. And then another one. And another. Until she stopped fighting and the men cautiously let her go.
Not that she hesitated to slap off their arms as if it made any difference.
Looking down at herself. At her stupid outfit and the way her tits were held back with nothing but a couple buttons. The front of a silly shirt tied under her bosom, midriff on display.
Li Wei would have hated that outfit. His conservative mother would have had a heart attack at first glance. Neither of them would have ever hit her.
And they were dead.
And it was over.
Undoing that first button was remarkably easy. The second one, nothing at all. After all, it was a question of math. Could be reduced to statistics. A desperation worse than any mental lapse to escape that horrible place.
Her third button popped, the captain squinting as he demanded to know, “What are you doing?”
Giving in. Giving in as she flipped up the pleated skirt and let the men see lace panties. “Who wants to go first?”
Not one of them moved to take her, wide, wet eyes begging, no matter how they gawked. “Come now, red light special at Table