Luck And a Prayer
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“Here, you’ll have your own place, your own money, you’ll make your own rules,” Jack continued his pitch to seduce his hapless victim into the “good” life. “I won’t be here to check what time you come in or to tell you who you can see. If you want that kind of treatment, stay home with Daddy.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, sir.” The woman’s voice, soft and low, trembled as she spoke. “I won’t give you any trouble.”
Willa inched her way along the kitchen counter toward her room, once again trying to get a handle on Jack’s position. She’d feel better if she could make it out of the kitchen. That way she could come out of a door when he called her, instead of popping up from behind the counter like a peeping Willa-in-the-box.
“All I want from you in return is sixty percent, Tracey. That will cover your expenses. This is a nice place—it ain’t cheap. Is it, Carlos?”
“No, sir. Not cheap at all,” Carlos’s voice thundered, resonating right down Willa’s spine.
The creep was directly above her. With knees burning and calves screaming, Willa quickly scampered along the counter to the other side of the kitchen. She wouldn’t make it back to her room now. From Carlos’s position, he’d be able to see her. She’d have to stay and hope Jack didn’t call for her.
“I know you’re not experienced with this kind of life, so I’ll do you a favor. I’ll give you a few days to get used to the place. I’ll send you to a few parties; let you meet the rest of the girls. See, old Jack isn’t such a bad guy,” he said heartily. His chuckle turned Willa’s stomach. “You’ll love it here. All my girls love working for Jack Paulson. Don’t they, Carlos?”
“Yes, sir. They sure do.”
“You see, Tracey, my job is to make sure we both earn a lot of money while having a great time doing it. Life’s too short not to have fun, don’t you agree?” He paused. “But most of all, I enjoy taking care of you girls. Nothing bad ever happens to one of Jack’s girls. That’s a God-given promise.”
Willa rolled her eyes at the manure spewing from his lips, and wondered how Jack defined the word bad. No one with a brain could be buying this garbage. She peeked around the corner and almost choked. The girl sitting across from him couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen. Good Lord! Where had he found a baby like her? This was sinking to an all-time low, even for Jack.
The girl’s eyes widened as they met Willa’s. Biting back a groan, Willa swung back behind the counter.
“Here’s five hundred to get you started,” Jack stated. “Go buy yourself some new clothes and a few knickknacks for your room, something to make this place feel like home. It’s all yours now.”
“Yes, sir,” the girl said. “Thank you.”
“You’ll pay me back by being a good girl and working hard. Jack’s girls know how to get ahead. Blondie will show you the ropes. Where is she anyway, Carlos? She should be here to meet the newest member of our team.” The dinette chair scraped across the wooden floor. “Hey, Blondie,” Jack yelled.
Willa bit her lip, and wished she could sink into the floor.
“Um, sir?” the girl spoke up, nabbing Jack’s attention. “Will I—that is, will I ever be able to visit my friends?”
The girl’s lilting voice broke Willa’s heart. Don’t worry, sweetie, she thought. I’ll get you out of this. Just as soon as I get myself out from behind this counter.
“You’re a runaway, Tracey. I’m giving you a place to live, a new identity, a way to support yourself, and start-up money. Now why would you want to blow all that by contacting your friends or family? You’re going to make a whole bunch of new friends right here. We’re your family now.” The front door opened. “Come on, doll,” Jack said. “Let me show you around.”
Willa fell back against the cupboards and stretched out her aching legs as she heard the door click shut. She’d done it! She’d gotten the whole conversation on videotape. This time, nothing could stop Jack Paulson from paying for a very long time.
“I thought you learned your lesson the last time I caught you spying on the boss.” Carlos’s raw hate-filled voice slithered around her.
Willa cringed. She stood, rocking unsteadily in her five-inch heels and faced him eye to eye, ignoring the glacial chill quivering down to her toes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Carlos.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders, his bony fingers biting into her flesh. “You were eavesdropping on the boss.”
His breath, smelling of coffee and cigarettes, nearly gagged her. “I wasn’t, Carlos. Really. I was just waiting for Jack to leave so we could be alone. That’s all.” She lifted a painted nail to his chin and flicked the stubble he thought made him look sexy instead of just slimy.
He loosened his grasp, then pushed her against the counter. “I knew you liked me,” he rasped.
“Of course I do, sugar,” she lied with a honey-thickened tongue. “If you give me a little time, I’ll prove it to you.”
“I’ve got time.”
The way he looked at her sent a fresh round of shudders coursing down her back. He turned toward her room. Not able to wait another second, she snatched up the pen. He turned back, staring at the Pen Cam in her hand, suspicion crossing his face.
“Did you really think I’d fall for that act?”
Fear hammered in her chest, but she was careful to make sure it didn’t show on her face. “Which act is that, sugar?”
With two easy strides, he was on her and reaching for the pen. She pulled away, palming it behind her back. With spring-loaded speed, he grabbed her arm and jerked the Pen Cam from her grasp. “What’s this?”
She didn’t answer, just held her breath and prayed the man was as dumb as he looked. He started to unscrew the pen’s barrel.
“Don’t—” she said softly.
“Don’t what?” He dropped the Pen Cam to the floor and raised a steel-toed boot.
The closest she’d ever come to nailing Jack Paulson was recorded on that pen and she wasn’t about to let some moronic flunkie pulverize it. She swung back, brought up one leg and—“Whaaa chai!”—kicked with all her might. Five inches of pointy heel dug deep into soft flesh.