Pinkie’s gaze flicks behind me, then to me, and she tilts her head to the side. “She’ll be fine. This whole thing involves her, she probably just wants to add her two cents,” she says, shrugging a shoulder as she wipes down the bar.
Looking down at the scratched-up bar top, I wonder what kind of club this really is. At first, I thought it would be a place full of really good guys. They’re good, but they’re not, if that makes sense.
They are on the edge, I can see the anger, the violence that swirls just beneath their surfaces. That makes me think that they’re more like the Donkey Punchers than I realized. But then they let a woman into their space, let her have a voice, and now I’m confused all over again.
“This ain’t like the Punchers, honey,” Pinkie says, her voice too soft, as if she knows exactly who and what the Punchers are. Nobody really knows them though, they think they do, but unless you’ve lived a life with them, you don’t really know shit.
She’s speaking to me as if I’m some kind of wounded animal and she has to tread lightly. Maybe I am and she does. But I don’t really like it.
Not from her.
“Yeah,” I breathe, deciding that I want this conversation to be done.
“Pamela,” she calls. Lifting my head, I look up at her when she doesn’t say anything else right away. “They ain’t like them. Trust me. I’ve been around bad men, and these guys aren’t clean in the eyes of the law. But in our world, they’re good men.”
“What happens to me when this is done and I’m eighteen?” I ask, knowing that eighteen is coming in just ten days.
She shrugs a shoulder. “I can’t answer that. I know Dragon well enough to know that he’ll give you choices. He won’t make you do anything you don’t want to. Nobody around here would let him anyway.”
Nodding my head, I don’t tell her what I’m thinking. There’s no reason to. I don’t tell her that I doubt he’ll just take care of me, just let me go, just let me do whatever the fuck I want to do. He owns me, there is no freedom for me. My dad finds out where I am, he finds out they have me, and it’s war.
So, no, I don’t have any choices. But there’s no sense in telling any of these people that. Esther has already made it clear she thinks I have those, and now so does Pinkie. But I know… I know the truth.
A few moments later, I hear Pinkie’s sharp intake of breath and I spin around to see what has her all surprised. It’s Jaguar. He’s being led toward that room once again. He turns his head, his gaze finding mine immediately.
His eyes dance, their depths still deeper than any pool or lake I’ve ever seen. His lips curve up into a smirk and he jerks his chin at me before pressing his lips together in a kiss. My heart rate spikes. It speeds just at the gesture, at the thought of having his lips on me.
Lifting my hand, I stupidly wiggle my fingers in his direction and give him a small smile of my own. Then I inwardly roll my eyes at myself because I’m a fucking idiot. I’m proving to be the teenage girl that I am and I hate it.
“They won’t kill him,” a voice whispers from next to me. Turning my head, I’m surprised to see that it’s Della. I didn’t even hear her approach and there she is, with Santiago in her arms.
“They won’t?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “No, they love him too much. They understand him. They realize what he did, he was blinded and not himself. He’ll be punished, but they won’t kill him.”
“Punished?” I ask.
I only know of one kind of punishment and in the Donkey Punchers, punishment always led to death no matter who was being punished, be it man, woman, or child. I don’t understand punishment without death, to me it doesn’t exist.
“He’ll probably get his ass kicked,” Della says with a sigh.
“Probably?” Pinkie snorts.
Della laughs softly. “Okay, he’ll get his ass kicked. But then, he’ll live and he’ll have an opportunity to prove himself again, to earn his place again with his family.”
Licking my lips, I look back to that room. The door is still closed, the men all inside and I think about what she’s said. He’ll have an opportunity to prove himself, to earn his place with his family.
It’s beautiful.
Chapter Six
JAGUAR
The kick to my face probably knocked a few teeth loose. The ones to my ribs definitely cracked and probably broke a few of them. My body is bruised, my face swollen beyond recognition, but I’m alive.
I’m breathing, which is a hell of a lot more than I thought I would be. They’ve decided to let me live... for now. I don’t know how long I’ll be breathing, but each day is another day I have to prove myself.
I’ll fix this. I’ll make them trust me again. They have to. If they don’t, then I’m dead, but not only that, I’ll have proven my father right. I’m worthless. I can’t do that, I can’t truly prove him right.
I need to fix this.
I need to prove that I’m worth something and if I can, then maybe I can help Pammy, too. Maybe I can save her, maybe I can be good to her, for her, unlike I was with Della. Maybe I can get right with the fucking world.
The men pick me up and carry me to my new room, the holding cell. I have a feeling that I’ll be living here for a good long while. I also have a feeling that all of my shit has been burned or tossed out—probably burned, that’s what the fuck I would
