“Full house. Sevens over nines. Player wins.”
Before the cheers across the tent finish, I’m closing in on the other side of the table. Leaning over her shaking figure. Arms caged on either side.
Her fruity scent. Her steel silence. The look of fear in her eyes.
Every ounce of vengeance within mehowlsto be heard.
“Touch anyone else this month”—I lower my lips to her ear—“and I’ll feed you your own fucking fingers, pet.”
Then I leave her breathless. Broken.
Mine.
eleven
The bitter tastehe left behind still coats my tongue even as his tall, muscular figure strolls out of the tent like a villain who just burned down a house.
Every eye hooks onto me. Not my face. Or whoI am... Only my nakedness.
It doesn’t bother me.
Because I won.
It didn’t matter which way the game went. If I won, I’d own him. If I lost, he’d touch me.
Either way, I wouldn’t be ignored.
And now I get to annoy him for an entire month.
Stooping, I grab my dress from the floor, step onto my chair, and flip off the entire room, then get dressed. Some of the guys slow clap, so I take a small bow. Hair straightened, I head out the same way my new lord and master did.
In the covered atrium, someone wheels a squeaky cage toward the main tent. I’m distracted from finding the asshole, but my focus snaps into place when I recognize Julien tucked inside the gilded bars. He’s half-naked, a diaper strappedaround his bottom. On his back. Legs in the air. Singing a Tyla Silk songloudly.
I hurry behind him as they cart him toward the back of the stage entrance. No one pays me any attention.
“Oh my god! It’s myfriend, Ashlynnnnnnnn!” he screeches. His face is flushed, nose flaming red. He looks extremely drunk.
As soon as they stop, the guy dressed as a ringleader shoves my shoulder as he passes me, heading out the way we came in.
“What are youdoingin there?” I ask, glancing around for a key to let him out. The door to the cage is locked. It’s also dark back here, with only one flaming torch hanging on the wall behind us that casts a flickering glow. Through the slit of the tent, I make out an obstacle course with a balance beam and an A-frame and other events while one of the guys is led by a leash through a series of faux-flaming hoops.
“I lost! I schlo lost at thucking Twister! Can you believe that? Me!”
I kneel next to him as someone enters behind us. “Did you drink?”
“No! I never drink!”
“Did you take too many Xanax?”
He makes a sound as if what I said was ridiculous. “Pfft. Nope. No! I had some water. Can I have some water? I don’t think they give lions water…” Tears line his lower lashes as he glances up at me. “Do lions get to drink water? They said it was…and was safe to drink. I want to dance.”
“I need to get you out of there. Hang on…”
My back straightens when I feel someone’s presence. I hadn’t noticed her, but Mutton perches her ass on the edge of another cage. Door open. Long, delicate fingers lift a vape pen to her mouth, then she blows a sickening cloud toward me. Hereyes scan my figure first, down to my feet, then back up.
“Where’re the keys?” I ask her flatly.
She shrugs.