Page 4 of Penny
I struggled to finger-comb the conditioner through my hair. I finally gave up and switched the water off. If I had my bag, I would grab my wide-tooth comb. It was missing teeth, but it worked well enough. Choosing to leave some of the conditioner in my hair, I stepped out of the shower. Cold gray tiles chilled my feet, and a shiver rolled up my spine. An extra-large black towel caught my eye, luring me.
I rarely missed the small things in life that people considered necessities. Something clean and fluffy to dry off with was one of those necessities I longed for and even prayed about. The wet nights soaked the only towel I’d packed. Eventually, I’d given up on trying to shower. It became miserable when all I had to dry off with was a wet, grimy scrap of fabric.
Soft cotton surrounded me, warming me to my core. The situation I was in could lead me to tragedy, but that was all I had ever had. What would be different about this turn of events? Catastrophe stalked my every step. It had become my acquaintance and not my tormenter.
I tied the towel around my chest, not having anything else to put on. Standing in front of the bathroom door, my hand hovered over the handle. My limbs shook as I repeatedly tried to turn the damn knob. The violent stranger could be lurking on the other side of the door, patiently waiting in the other room to strike again. The only other option I had was to remain in the bathroom. It may not be small, but it left me at a significant disadvantage and left me cornered. I let out a heavy sigh, hoping the universe lifted its ill-fitting weight.
The click of the door echoed off the tiled walls, and steam rushed out. I popped my head out, scouring the expansive bedroom. The room was decorated with various shades of black and gray. A king-sized bed was in the middle of the room, acting as the focal point. For someone who had a lot of money, you would think he would decorate with more than numerous shades of black.
The absence of sound, accompanied by the musky smell of sandalwood and sage, comforted me. My wet footsteps slapped on the wooden floors, making me rush across the room to the rug. I didn't want to be heard, but the realization of how large the room was made me chuckle. He wouldn't have heard my subtle steps across the room, let alone his house. My racing heart begged to differ, so I slowed my steps toward the dresser, not allowing myself to be careless and loud.
The first dresser drawer I pulled open was filled with dark heather gray boxer briefs, and the second was filled with white undershirts. I nibbled on my lower lip, pulling a white undershirt from the drawer and slowly shutting it. A small squeak of excitement escaped my lips when I saw gray sweatpants in the next drawer. These would keep me warm tonight when I made my escape. Retrieving my backpack would come first. It had the only items left of my life before giving it all up. The desire to get my most valuable possession back outweighed rationality. I had to get it back, no matter what.
I hummed, and my shoulders lightened as I cinched the loose sweatpants around my waist. My dark nipples were visible under the white shirt, forcing me to dig in the drawers until I found a jogger jacket. The smell of clean laundry made tears sting my eyes. I’d missed this. It'd been eight months of dirty clothes. It had been so long that I’d almost forgotten how pleasant it was to have it. This was why drugs ran rampant in the homeless camps. Eventually, they needed to find a way to cope, escaping from the harshness of their reality.
I jumped as rock music suddenly filled the room. Medium-sized speakers were mounted on each corner of the wall, blaring the sound in a deafening volume. I covered my ears, scrunching my brows. The need to get away from the blasting sound forced me to stumble around the room, compelling me to want to dive headfirst under the pillows on the bed.
The bedroom door opened with a graceful swing. My kidnapper stood tall in the doorway, cocking his head at me. Intricate Celtic tattoos covered his arms, trailing up his neck. He chuckled at the sight of me and leisurely walked into the room. Confidence oozed off him with every step he took. He wore a backward baseball cap with a short-sleeved black button-up shirt. Zaps of electricity stung my core at the sight of him, making me clench my thighs.
He was handsome and not in the way where you would take him home to meet your parents. No, that would be too easy for me. Waves of sex appeal and danger rolled off him, luring me with a false sense of thrill. His dark brown eyes inspected me like I was an unexpected piece of trash left in his room. Flecks of black simmered in his stare, creating fissures of fear in me.
He stepped closer, stalking me with dilated eyes. I faltered, shuffling back as he walked around me, until the bed pressed against the back of my knees. The softness of the bed was a luring trap. I jerked forward so I wouldn’t fall. Ignoring my trembling, I straightened my spine and rolled my shoulders back, keeping my gaze on my hunter.
My predicament finally sunk in, and I knew I was in way over my head.
Chapter 3
Connor
Could you rob a woman of her senses when she had none left? If she had any, she wouldn't be homeless. As she searched the room for an escape, disoriented from the blasting music, I learned you could.
Her wet hair remained knotted, but it was slightly better than the rat's nest she had before. Long curls started to form, spiraling down to the inner curve of her hourglass figure. She was thin, probably from the lack of eating, but her curves screamed seductress, and her skin was smooth and golden. Even as she stumbled around in my room, she was stunning. I needed a hairdresser to style her hair before I brought her to my father. Finding one to do a home visit with no questions would be easy enough, but I couldn't think about that just yet.
The first thing I needed to do was to start the acclimation process. She needed to realize that her life was no longer hers. It belonged to theKilbaneBrothers. It belonged to me.
I took long, steady strides toward her, smiling at the way her shoulders straightened. She didn't back away from me like all the other girls we’d acquired had. Her eyes remained focused as she stared at me with a sense of acceptance. It had to be false bravado; surely someone so weak as to become homeless wouldn't have the gall to stand up to the person who took her.
I walked around her, circling her while she remained steady with her head held high. Her only tell of nerves was the twitching of her fingers playing with the hem of my jacket. Thieves usually grated on my nerves, but I didn’t mind her wearing what was mine.Odd. Pulling my cell from my pocket, I lowered the volume of the blaring music.
"You didn't finish brushing your hair." If she had the nerve to go through my dresser drawers, you think she would have gone through my bathroom and found a brush.
She looked over at me from the corner of gray eyes no longer shadowed by dirt. Her skin looked smooth to the touch. She would bring my family a lot of money and hopefully make up for my other failures.
"I'm going to prepare you for my world," I announced, walking up behind her.
She looked over her shoulder, seemingly unbothered by my words. I cupped her neck and pushed her wet hair out of my way. Her wretched smell was gone, replaced with the scent of my tea tree shampoo. She didn't flinch at my touch, but her spine stiffened while she looked away. I leaned in, expelling a large breath that moved the baby hairs on her nape.
"My family sells beautiful women, just like you. Maybe if you are a good girl, we will keep you for ourselves. Put you on our streets to bring us money." I offered her this knowledge to see her reaction, wanting to relish in her fear.
Penny didn’t react the way I thought, though. She didn’t move or let out a shaky breath.
I stepped in front of her, squinting as I examined her face for any tell. No woman would willingly take this impending fate. My palm twitched rapidly at her lack of reaction. I wanted to wrap my hand around her throat. Did she think all of this was a game?
A blaze engulfed me, and blood rushed to my face. Thoughts of snapping her neck whirled through my mind. She was delicate enough. All it would take was one twist, but I needed to use her to make amends.My fist tightened around her fragile airway as I lifted her off the ground. Her mouth fell open, and fear finally sparkled in her eyes. The fight-or-flight response was a captivating display of emotion.
"Did you hear me when I was talking to you? Do I have your attention now?" I fumed, feeling blood rush to my face.
She nodded rapidly, opening and closing her mouth like a goldfish. She wasn't giving me what I needed. My skin stung from her violent slaps at my wrists.
