Page 60 of Paco
He glanced at her arm, at the crown tattoo. It was a simple design in black ink with initials underneath. “You got a tat.” He ran his finger over it. “Who’s EZR?”
She shook her head. “I don’t count that one, or the one on the back of my neck. They were put on me to show other traffickers and pimps that I belong to someone. The one on my arm is Erik’s brand—those are his initials, and the one on the back of my neck is Bobby’s. Each of them marked me when they bought me. It’s what they do to the women they own.” She held his gaze. “They’re my war wounds.”
Anger lit inside him and his stomach tightened. He reached over and pulled up her hair. At first he didn’t see it, but then he found a black bar code with some numbers under it. It looked like the bar codes on items in a store.Fuck. Just like branding cattle. Like a fucking commodity to buy and sell.He let her hair go and it cascaded down, covering the ugliness on her neck. With his hand on her back, he drew her closer, kissing the top of her head, her temples, and her nose.
A smile whispered across her lips. With a faraway look in her eyes, she ran her hand up and down his arm. “Every time I took a shower or tried to look at my body, I was reminded of the violence and exploitation that had become my new world. I figured that was going to be my life from then on. Then you came into my world, and you gave me hope. I bet you didn’t know that.” She paused for a second, eyes watering. “I’m so grateful to be alive, I really am, but having to look at those markings on my body every day just pulls me down, and the sadness can be overwhelming. I wonder whether I’ll ever be anything but the person those tattoos say I am.”
“Don’t ever think that’s who you are. You were forced to be something you weren’t, but the real you was always there. You just had to bury her to survive. Now you’re free and—”
“Am I? I couldn’t even fuckin’ run or scream or doanythingwhen I saw Bobby last night. I stood there quivering, ready to do whatever he told me to.” She buried her head against him.
“That’s normal. You were beaten and raped into obedience for eight years. You can’t erase it in a few days.”
“But when I’m with you and we fuck, I’m just withyou, not all the hundreds of men I was forced to have sex with.”
Paco ran his hands over her back. “That’s good, babe, but the shit you went through is still in your head. I can see it in your eyes sometimes, and in the way you thrash and moan in your sleep. You need to get some help to deal with it. You can talk to Breanna about it when I’m gone.”
Her head jerked back. “You’re leaving? Where are you going? How long will you be gone? Can I come with you? I don’t want to be alone here. Bobby’s in Alina.”
“Whoa, calm down. First off, you’ll stay in the clubhouse. Starting the day after tomorrow, the club’s imposing a lockdown.”
“That sounds like what they do in prison.”
“It’s along the same lines, I suppose. It just means everyone’s confined to the club, and all kids, old ladies, girlfriends, and club women have to stay here.”
“You mean no one can go outside?”
“No. It’s just safer inside in case there’s a sharpshooter waiting.” He chuckled. “Don’t look so horrified. We make sure no one’s lurking around. We have a great security system, and the brothers know what they’re doing. It’s just until we think the situation has passed the danger zone. It’ll be good for you since that fucking pimp won’t be able to find you.”
He took her hand and held it on his lap. “I gotta go out of town on club business. I can’t tell you any more than that, but I’ll try and call or text if and when I can. You’ll like most of the old ladies. Breanna’s nice, Raven can be blunt, Fallon’s quiet but a great listener, Hailey is full of energy, Sam can be a pain in the ass, and Shannon will keep trying to find out your story—though you don’t have to tell her or anyone jack shit. If Sam or Shannon get to be too much, tell Breanna. She’s the head old lady since Steel’s the prez and she’s his woman. Sam and Shannon have been old ladies for a long time. Sam’s married to Tattoo Mike, and Shannon and Rooster have been hitched for over twelve years.”
“Do the women know about me? I mean, about what I was?”
“The guys around here are worse than the club girls with all their talking and gossiping, so I’d have to guess that they probably do. The only ones who may make it an issue or get too personal with the questions are Sam and Shannon. Like I said, tell Breanna if they start shit with you. Better yet, tell Raven and she’ll probably end up beating some ass. She’s tough.”
“I hope you come back soon. I’m not sure what to do. I’m not that good with mingling. I used to have a great group of friends, but for years I never talked to anyone except Bobby some of the time and the johns. I mostly asked them why they were with me when they had their wives and children at home, but they never answered. Most of the men were married.”
“Not surprising. My fucking old man was like that.”
“Would you be?”
“Whoa, baby. That’s a helluva question. I don’t have any plans on getting married.”
“But if you did, would you be okay with cheating?”
“If I loved a woman, I’d never cheat on her. It wouldn’t matter if I was married or not.”How did we get on marriage?He sat up. “We should get going. We’ll take the SUV.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Day after tomorrow. No more questions. Get your cute ass in gear and get ready.”
While she showered and got ready, Paco idly watched a boxing match on the television while his mind drifted to Chelsea. When he’d seen the two tattoos on her, he wanted to smash the walls with his fists, pretending they were the fuckers who created her hell. He couldn’t stand knowing her traffickers’ brands were on her, claiming her.
He placed a joint in his mouth and lit it.I’m gonna kill that fucking Bobby. I don’t know how I’m gonna find out shit on Erik, but if and when I do, he’s done.Chelsea had told him she only knew Erik’s first name. She’d said that he’d been brutal, and she was relieved when he sold her. All she’d wanted was to get away from his viciousness, his greed, and his stone-cold detachment. Paco had his poker face on when she’d told him about Erik, but inside an electric-hot rage seethed. Even though she left out the details, he knew what brutal was. He’d been accused of it on more than one occasion, but he’d never acted that way toward an innocent person. His fierceness was reserved for the betrayers of the club, the assholes who threatened to weaken the brotherhood, or the ones who preyed on the innocent. For those people, he didn’t show any mercy, nor would he when he caught up to the men who were responsible for destroying Chelsea’s innocence.
“All done,” she said.
Looking over at her, he sucked in his breath. She was stunning with her damp hair falling around her and just a hint of makeup on her glowing skin. The tight-fitting jeans and form-hugging sweater made him reevaluate whether he wanted to leave the room at all until he headed to Silverado.
