Home > Selling Scarlett (Love Inc. #1)(81)

Selling Scarlett (Love Inc. #1)(81)
Author: Ella Jame

Hearing this news, I feel nothing. Maybe I'm in shock. The only thought I have is that I want to get more information from him. Not want to, have to. I have to stay in control if I want to get away. I try a simple statement. “You killed Sarabelle.”

“Only because I had to,” Lockwood says, hooking his thumbs through his belt-loops. “I was gonna take her here to market but she got too frisky. Conniving little pu**y. Acted like she was going to give me head and bit my cock.” He grimaces, fondling himself, and I grit my teeth. “Sarabelle, she wasn't like the last one, little Miss Lucky.”

When he says her name, I remember it. She was the escort who went missing a little while before Sarabelle. I raise my eyebrows and paste on a surprised, slightly impressed look. “You took Ginnifer Lucky, too?”

Lockwood nods, standing up a little taller. “She fetched a good price. But you…well, they're paying better these days. All that drug money.” He grins, revealing stained teeth.

I try my best to keep my disgust off my face. I want to sound curious, keep him talking but not make him mad. “You're the one behind Missy King, too, aren't you?”

At the mention of her name, his eyes dance. “Missy? Yeah, I sold her. She's still in country, actually. Somewhere,” he says, grinning. “She was a good f**k, that little Missy. Spirited. Gave the governor trouble, that's what happened to that little lady. Bet she's keeping some Mexican drug lord real happy.”

That thought makes my stomach church. “What's the point of selling Cross and I? People will notice we’re gone. If you need the money that badly, I recently came into some—”

He interrupts me with a coarse laugh. “I was disappointed to see the deal was already done.” I really might be sick this time. I clench my legs together and ignore the humiliation I feel. So far, the shirt's still covering my goods, but if I move, it won't be. This is a man who raped Sarabelle. “You would have fetched a much higher price yesterday.”

“I have money!” I say desperately.

He snickers. “We're moving you two downstream because you're all up in our business. And I do mean business. Tail like yours goes for high dollar.” He grins, like he's proud of himself, and I squeeze my legs a even closer together.

Lockwood is definitely leering at me. He walks a little closer to my bed, so when Priscilla strolls through the door, I actually feel almost glad.

“How's our prince and princess?” she asks.

Lockwood's dark eyes rove over her body, clad in a skin-tight black dress, before he glances back at me. “This one's a Curious Cassie.”

I scowl at Priscilla. “I can't believe you help him sell women into sex slavery.”

She laughs. “You over-estimate my moral code, darlin'. Besides, sex with strangers isn't as bad as you think.”

“It is when you’re forced to do it!”

She gives me a patronizing grin. “I guess you’ll find out.”

“I just don't understand,” I say evenly. “What’s in this for you?”

“You should know I’m not in it for the money,” she chides. “In fact, I’m usually not involved in Michael's extracurriculars at all. But this situation needed some tidying up.”

“I used to work for that kid’s dad,” Lockwood says, pointing at Cross. “Missy was his mistress before she started wanting too much. I had worked for him in security, and then I moved to Vegas to work in the  p**n  biz. Priscilla wanted the governor and after a night of drinkin' she and I got the idea. It was really more my idea,” he says with a little nod. “The governor asked me to take care of it, and, like that—” he snaps “—a new enterprise was born.”

“I never liked her anyway,” Priscilla says. She rolls her eyes, like Missy was such a twat, and I realize she’s psycho. They both are.

“But you dated!” I exclaim to Lockwood.

“More like f**ked.” He shrugs. “It made it even easier to get her across the border. She never knew what was coming.”

“And after that, Governor Carlson got to be with me,” Priscilla says.

“He didn't stay with you,” I point out.

“Yes he did.” She grins. “He just got better at sneaking around.”

I don’t know what to do with this information. I glance at Cross, glad he’s still asleep, and then a horrible thought occurs to me. “His father doesn’t know about this, does he?”

Priscilla shakes her head. “Definitely not, but if he did, I’m not sure he’d try to stop me. I’ve got enough dirt on him to fill the Grand Canyon.”

I need time to process all of this, but time I do not have.

“Why is Hunter involved?”

She shrugs. “He was in the wrong place at the wrong time, really.” She knocks Lockwood with her hip, and I want to vomit. “Besides, it's Michael's fault, not mine. I have restraint. He doesn't. When he heard what I did to your cocky little poker player, he made a rash decision, and then I had to cover for him. If he gets charged with something, it could lead back to Carlson.”

As Priscilla explains things to me, Lockwood pulls her dress aside and kisses her br**sts. “Oh, hell yeah.”

He starts to hump her, and she steps back, leaving him panting like a horny dog. “Do you know what time it is?” she asks him.

“We've still got an hour,” he says.

“Until what?” I nearly shriek.

Priscilla smiles. “Don't you like surprises?”

Lockwood laces his fingers through hers, and together they leave the room. Cross is still asleep. My mind is racing. I can't believe what Cross's father did. I can’t believe Priscilla is such a monster. I can’t believe we’re trapped here. Everything about this situation is horrible.

Hunter. Where are you?

I try to wake up Cross. I call his name, I try to talk to him, I even since Katy Perry songs. He hates Katy Perry. I'm thrilled when, after only a few minutes, he rolls onto his back, giving me a full view of his unbound hands. Why didn't they tie him? His eyes flutter at the ceiling, and he grimaces like he's in pain.

“Cross?”

He moans, then rolls back on his stomach. Crap!

I hear Priscilla's voice outside and she comes back in, holding a bottle opener. She opens a cooler on the other side of Cross's bed and pulls out a bottle of beer.

“What did you give him?” I ask as she opens it.

She shrugs. “A tranquilizer. Not everyone has a good reaction to it.”

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