Page 64 of Veiled Vengeance

To the right is a bar with liquor shelves lining the entire wall. There’s a large stage opposite the bar with a silver pole. A topless blonde woman in a G-string dances seductively as men in suits sit in red armchairs that line the edge of the stage. She gives each one attention, and they respond in kind by sticking bills in her thong or tossing them on the stage. There are two smaller stages also surrounded by cushy armchairs. One woman occupies each mini stage, and each woman has a full audience.

Anthony nods to a door that says “Employees Only” as he and Pierce head up a set of stairs hidden behind the bar.

“Get ready,” one of my guards tells me as he shoves me through the door. I fall to all fours on ugly white tile. My palms sting and I can feel bruises forming on my knees.

“Better yet, stay just like that. Easier access.” They chuckle together and a chill races down my spine.

I flip and scramble backwards to get away from them. A set of gentle hands land on my shoulders. Looking up, I find a woman with long, black hair and deep blue eyes. She is scantily dressed in a bra and panties, but she doesn’t act embarrassed whatsoever. Instead, the threat of violence in her eyes is directed at the men who pushed me in here.

The men smirk and one says, “Good to see you, Raven. Dancing tonight?”

Her vein at her temple pulses. “You know I am, Jared, or else I wouldn’t be here.”

“Ah, ah, ah. Watch your tone or I’ll make sure you don’t make your quota tonight.”

Raven clenches her jaw to stop herself from responding. Jared gives her a disgusting smirk and shuts the door. A deadbolt slides into place, locking us inside with no way out.

Raven helps me to my feet, and I look around the room.

We’re not alone.

There are clothing racks at the back and vanities all over the place. Most of them are occupied by women who are similarly dressed to Raven. They’re all watching us.

I also note that there isn’t a second door.

No way out.

“Are you okay?” Raven questions me.

“I’ll be fine.”

Fake it ‘til you make it.

“What’s your name, honey?”

“Carmen,” I answer.

She places an arm around me and guides me to an empty vanity, sitting me in the chair. “Let’s get you dressed. They’re going to expect you to be ready when they come back to escort you to the stage.”

My jaw drops as I stare at her in disbelief through the mirror. “The stage?”

The corners of Raven’s lips turn up in sympathy. “That’s how it works. They usually make the girls that they don’t want to get roughed up by their usual clientele dance.”

A pit forms in my stomach. “Usual clientele?”

“These men are in the skin trade—we’re nothing more than cattle to them. We get to live as long as we make them money, and they put us wherever they can capitalize on us. It’s either the streets, the sheets, or the pole.”

I refuse to let my tears fall. I refuse to let my fear show.

“Do you have any kids?” Raven inquires.

“Umm. No.” I shake my head.

“Good. They’ll use your children against you.”

My heart falls. “Is that what they did to you?”

Her deep blue irises look hopeless. “Yeah. They have my son, Noah. He’s how they keep me from running away.” She’s given up hope.

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