Psycho Ex Boyfriend (Standalone New Adult Romance) (The Alpha Brotherhood Book 2) (31 page)

Zoey

“Zoey, stop blinking so much. I’m going to poke your eye out,” Cassie insists as she attempts to put mascara on me.

“I can do this part myself.”

“Not with your hands cuffed to this chair, you can’t,” she reminds me. “Please don’t ask me to let you go again, sweetie. You know I would if I could.”

“I’m not asking you to let me go, I just want you to untie my hands,” I murmur, glancing over her shoulder at the bouncer watching our every move.

“Zoey…”

I totally lost my shit when Ricky dragged me into the back of this strip club and threw me on the ground, demanding that the girls clean me up and get me ready. I can’t recall exactly what I did, but when the struggle was over, I was cuffed to the chair and my jaw was aching again. Prick.

Thankfully, one of the strippers recognized me. Cassie is a little older than I am and we only spent a few months together in a group home, but we clicked and I never forgot her. She was actually the reason that I learned not to get attached to the other kids because sooner or later, they would disappear and you’d never see them again. I never thought we’d reconnect like this.

It took her a few minutes to get me to calm down enough to tell her what was going on, which meant I had to admit it to myself out loud and I started sobbing uncontrollably. I think they gave me something, because time started to slow down soon after they tethered me to the chair. Either that or I’m going into shock.

According to the girls, no one pays twenty grand to pop a girl’s cherry, no matter how hot she is. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that I won’t get out of this after I’m done. It’s more about making an example of me than recovering money, they’ll go after Daniela for that. If I’d only kept my big mouth shut about my savings account, I’d be walking away with that too. Now I’ve literally done all this for nothing.

Cassie does her best to assure me that it won’t be that bad. The sickos that want what I’m being forced to offer don’t pay nearly as much as the nicer men with this fetish, and I got lucky because there are a lot of shoppers here tonight. What a strange stroke of luck. The guy could be relatively normal, considering. One of the other girls says that I might even be fortunate enough to get a boyfriend out of this. She means sugar daddy, but I’m not exactly in a position to clarify the difference.

“Cassie,” I whisper as she puts the finishing touches on my makeup. “Is there anything you can do about…” I can’t even say it.

“About what?”

“My… If you lift up my shirt you’ll see what I’m talking about.”

Gently grabbing the hem of my t-shirt, she pulls it upwards and her eyes drop to my ribs. The confusion on her face morphs into a mixture of surprise and pity, and perhaps a touch of disgust. “Oh, honey…” she says softly. “I forgot all about this.”

“Can you cover it up?” I choke, squirming uncomfortably as I instinctively pull backwards, but I’m trapped in this chair and there’s nowhere to go.

“Um… Zoey, I don’t know. It’s not really discoloration.”

“Yeah.” The haphazard scarring extends from beneath my left breast to my hip and wraps around my flank. “The makeup would probably get smeared anyway when he…” My lips start to tremble as I start to breathe faster.

“Okay, don’t start crying again. You’ll ruin your blush.”

“You used waterproof mascara, right?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Because I won’t be able to hold it together once I…” Bile rises in my throat as I trail off and I start to get so lightheaded I’d fall over if I wasn’t sitting down. “Cassie I can’t do this. I can’t.”

“Sweetie, you don’t really have to do all that much.”

“I’ve never even… I haven’t even kissed anyone yet,” I confess. Cassie’s hand freezes against my cheek as she stares down at me with compassion. This is so embarrassing. “I have no idea what to expect. Will it hurt a lot?”

“Well, that sort of depends on the guy and what he wants.”

“Oh, my God…”

“Zoey,” she says firmly. “You have to stop looking so terrified. It’ll attract the freaks that want you to struggle and cry and shit.”

“I am terrified. What should I pretend to be?”

“Innocent. Sweet,” she suggests, dabbing one of my tears away with a tissue. “I guess it won’t be pretending in your case.”

“I’m not all that sweet, Cassie.”

“Sure you are. How do you think you got here?” She flashes me a fake looking smile, probably trying to make me feel better.

It has the opposite effect. “The creeps are going to want me because of my scars, aren’t they?”

“Oh, Zoey. It’ll be…” Cassie starts to lie and stops herself, rolling her lips together. Then it looks like she has an idea. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

“No shit,” I grumble, testing my restraints.

The brutish looking bouncer or guard or whatever he is stops her as she makes her way to the back room, but she flirts her way out of it, explaining that this place doesn’t see a lot of virgins and she has the perfect way to doll me up. She reappears a few moments later, her crossed arms overflowing with white satin and lace.

“I bought this for my sister’s wedding night, but she ended up leaving the poor sucker at the altar,” Cassie explains as she uncuffs me. “It’s so perfect, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier. I’m glad we went with the understated eye shadow and pink blush. Stand up and strip,” she says, and my eyes flick over to the guard. “Oh sweetie, you’d better get over that real quick.”

I take a deep breath and undo the zipper of my jeans, letting them drop to the floor. Boy was I wrong when I thought I shaved my legs for nothing this morning. The asshole watches me the entire time, making my skin crawl. Shivering, I squeeze my eyes shut and pull my baggy shirt over my head.

“What the fuck?” he exhales in surprise, his jaw dropping open as he surveys the strange pattern the scars create. Well, that part went exactly how I pictured it would the first time a guy saw me naked.

“Don’t listen to him,” Cassie says reassuringly. “Arms up, kiddo.” I comply, keeping my eyes closed as she wraps something tight around my waist. “There we go, all better. Take a look.” Her hands press on my shoulders, spinning me around until I assume I’m facing the full length mirror I’ve been trying to avoid. “Seriously, Zoey. Open your eyes, you’ll like what you see.”

Dropping my chin, I hide my face in my hands and peek down at my body through the gaps between my fingers. It’s a corset. A stunningly beautiful, very ornate corset, the kind that only covers your belly and leaves your breasts free for… for whatever he wants to do with my breasts, I guess.

Tentatively, I look into the mirror and I can’t believe my eyes. I’m so… pretty. I’ve never looked so attractive in such an advanced state of undress. For the first time in my life, I finally understand why people make such a big deal about my boobs. “Wow,” I breathe, leaning closer to look at my face. “These are not my cheekbones, Cassie. How did you do it?”

“Facial contouring with different colors of foundation. I had a lot to work with, Zoey. You’re such a beauty. And you are totally making me wish I could grow my pubes out!” she laughs, stepping closer to me. I almost manage to laugh with her, but she presses something into my palm. “Take this,” she whispers. “Subtly, I could get in a lot of trouble. You’ll forget what’s about to happen to you.”

“I don’t take pills,” I explain.

“It’s the same stuff they give people who are afraid of the dentist and this is going to be a lot worse than getting a cavity drilled out.”

“That amnesia drug?” I whisper back.

Cassie nods toward the bottle of water sitting on the counter. “Get those heels and thigh highs on quick,” she says in a normal volume and tone. “We might still have enough time to clip some of these little flowers into your hair.”

“What if he wants me to take it off?”

“Guys who like lingerie usually don’t. And the whole point of corsets like this is that you can leave it on the whole time. C’mon you only have five minutes.”

“Holy shit,” I exclaim. This is really happening and I have to decide if I want to remember it or not. My stomach sinks as I stare at my reflection and I’m suddenly positive that I’ll probably spend a lot of time trying to forget this. I may as well help the process along.

I stoop down and pop the pill in my mouth while I’m looking for the nylons. The next five minutes may as well have been five seconds. I take one final glance at my soon to be spoiled splendor in the mirror and then I’m being guided out of the dressing room by the guard’s grip on my arm as Cassie gives me a few last minute tips.

Keep your head high, but not too high. Don’t forget to smile, but just a little bit. Pretend you like it even if you don’t, it’ll be better that way. Whatever you do, don’t cry. That can egg them on or ruin the fantasy. Try to relax, it will hurt less. And remember, no matter how bad it gets, it will all be over soon.

My heart is pounding so fast I can feel it through my entire body as I force my spine to straighten when I’m led onto a stage. I’m nearly hyperventilating and there doesn’t seem to be any oxygen getting into my lungs, let alone to my brain. She told me not to look scared, but I just can’t help it.

The lights are so bright that I can’t see any of the men’s faces, but I can hear their voices. They’re commenting on my breasts, my hair, my decorated face. Some of them like what they see, others are disappointed because they thought they were getting something special and there’s nothing special about me at all.

My eyes adjust slightly to the blinding spotlight and I get a better look at the room. It’s like a miniature theatre with sloped, sight line seating. At the crest, there’s a large, high backed chair sitting above all the others. I can barely see the man sitting in it, leaned over on the armrest. There’s no way Ricky is important enough to be in that throne. It must be whoever he works for. I never wanted to know that information and still don’t.

There are so many eyes on me, so many judging voices picking me apart. Instinctively, I cover my bare breasts with my hands and they all laugh about what’s in store for me. One of them shouts for me to turn around so they can see my ass. It takes few seconds to register what he wants, but I’m so desperate to turn away from them that I do it.

I’m too terrified to be angry, too dumbfounded to come up with one of my trademark smart ass comebacks. They all unanimously agree that my ass is incredible and for a brief moment, I feel flattered. It mingles with the humiliation in the strangest way and I start to get nauseous, stumbling in these ridiculous high heels as I spin back around. I don’t have the capacity to feel outraged or used. I just want it all to be over so badly, and this is the easiest part.

Then they start shouting out numbers like I’m up for auction. I suppose I am. The price goes higher and higher until there are just two voices vying for the rights to me. One voice is so much deeper than the other, I wonder which one I should be rooting for.

A shadowy figure approaches whatever monster sits on that throne from the side and bends forward, I think to whisper something in his ear. Based on the way the light shines off his bald head, I’m pretty sure it’s the guard that was in the dressing room with us. Shit. He’s probably telling him that they’re selling damaged goods.

“Stop the bidding,” a commanding voice announces from the back of the room. “We have to start over.  She’s not exactly what she seems.”

“I thought you said that her purity had been verified,” one of the high bidders calls out. It jogs my memory and I flash on the girls in the back room, pulling my pants off and… checking. No wonder I freaked out so hard they had to tie me down. I feel their hands pulling my thighs apart and the helplessness of not being able to do anything about it. I can’t go through with this. I have to get out of here somehow. There has to be a way.

“Take it off!” someone snarls, like they said it before and I wasn’t listening. “Take the fucking the corset off right now.”

Oh, God. I’ve had nightmares exactly like this. On stage, exposed, being forced to finally reveal myself when I thought that I’d gotten away with it and no one would ever find out. My jaw shakes uncontrollably as I reach behind me. I didn’t put this thing on and I’m not sure how to take it off. It feels like there’s a zipper, but I can’t reach the top, my arm doesn’t go that far.

The crowd grows frustrated and I start to panic. The sound of my pulse in my ears is overwhelming, drowning out the shouting. Suddenly, there’s a girl next to me, whispering for me to calm down as she unfastens the only thing keeping me from experiencing my worst fear.

I clutch the fabric to my stomach as she scampers off stage. I don’t want to let it go, but the frustrated shouting, the barked orders, the angry growls, it’s all too intimidating and frightens me until I do the unthinkable. Hesitantly, I let the beautiful garment fall to the floor to reveal the strange flesh it’s been hiding.

My eyes flutter closed and I feel a tear roll down my cheek as they gasp in unison. I hear the words I always have in my own thoughts spoken out loud in other people’s voices, just like I knew they would. Disgusting. Freak. Ruined.

The pretty girl that I saw in the mirror, the one with perfect cheekbones in the bridal lingerie with the little white roses in her hair, doesn’t actually exist. She was an illusion. This is what I really am.