Page 25 of Deliverance
I shrugged and took a deep breath. "I don't know. I need to find out what my actual job is going to be for Saffron."
"Can't you go to the police? It's not like you live here."
"Frank told me he has cops on his payroll. If I take the chance and go to the one he's paying, he'll kill my mother then me."
"So, there's nothing we can do?"
"Right now, no. But give me some time. I'll figure something out."
She gave me a tight smile and walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. I felt as though it was my fault she was there, and I hated it. I hated to think about how many other women I'd seen get into taxis, believing they were going home or to their next bar or club, but instead, they went to the warehouse to never be seen again.
I fucking hated Frank Russo.
Chapter Ten
Erin
A week had passed, and I was still in the penthouse. I hadn't been with a client yet, but I was supposed to start teaching Zell. Because I'd never taught an eight-year-old before, I told Madam I needed a third-grade workbook. She sent Ricardo to get it for me.
In the last week, I'd learned there were cameras in every room. At first, I was nervous that every move I made was being monitored, but the girls and I could almost do whatever we wanted. Madam had a few rules:
Work out every day.
Eat healthy.
Don't gain weight.
Be well-groomed.
Keep the penthouse clean.
Be ready at any time for a client.
Do whatever the client wants.
Don't disrespect Madam.
Don't go upstairs to Madam's quarters unless ordered to.
Don't try to leave.
I also realized that theoldgirls had more than just a bed in their tiny rooms. Emily had a TV, Sonya had books, Liz had a bouquet from her last client, and Ronda had a stash of chocolate she thought no one knew about, but I'd seen her eat a piece from the bag under her bed my second night.
The ladies informed us that the clients thought we lived and worked in the penthouse on our own like that bunny ranch in Nevada. Even if you got close to one of the clients, we couldn't tell them the truth because we couldn't be certain they weren't friends with Frank Russo or Madam.
There was a knock on my door, and I looked up to see Ricardo in the doorway. "Hey," I greeted.
"I got you something else." He pulled a caramel apple from behind his back. "I didn't want to get you a boring red or green one."
I grinned. "Because I'm a teacher?"
He shrugged and smirked. "Yeah."
"Thank you, Ricardo. That's very sweet of you." I smiled up at him.
"You're welcome, and my friends call me Ric."
"I'm your friend now?" I was still smiling.
