GoodNovelLead the Way
F*ROMANY**
Even as | asked, | knew it wasn't him. Tiny was too gentle. Too soft spoken. And if | wasn't already sure it hadn't
been him, his eyes just now would've told me.
He appeared insulted and shocked. "No," he answered gravely. "Absolutely not. | would never take advantage of
any woman that way. I..." he trailed off, disappearing into my bedroom and coming back with a blanket to cover
head to toe. "Thanks," | said with a sigh. My head was still cloudy. Images from last night stuck in their - *almost*
- state. Coming in flashes, like from an old polaroid camera that snaps pictures you have to wait ten or so
minutes to see.
"No problem," Tiny said, pulling up the ottoman to take a seat in front of me. "How much do you* remember?" he
asked.
| shook my head, not wanting to see what | was *already* seeing. The older man with the cruel face and the dark
demon-like eyes. Alex staring down atand commandingto suck him off while sfaceless bastard
behindpounded into my core. | *didn't* want the images | was getting. Didn't want* the memory of the pain.
Of the... *burning.*
"I was burning," | said softly. "I was so, so thirsty. All | wanted was the water in that glass that Alex wouldn't give
me. | kept reaching for it. It felt like, no matter how much I drank, it wasn't enough." | shuddered, the memory of
the burning in my flesh causing my stomach to roil. "I don't understand. Why the hell was | feeling that way?"
"You were drugged," Tiny said matter of factly.
Another flash - Stella coming into my room with my dinner! "That *bitch!*" | hissed, wanting now more than ever
to go down for breakfast. "It was her! She must have done it! She brought my dinner!" | growled and Tiny
nodded.
| thought back to that night that | went swimming. When that bastard guard, Gerald, broughtnothing but
wine for my dinner. Then the next day when Stella mentioned how disappointed Santos was that | never tasted
the wine. *What did she have planned forthat night, | wonder?*
"Stella drugged me!" | snapped. "I have to tell Alex!" | started to get up, but Tiny stopped me.
"Wait," he said softly. "Just wait. Alex is... he's..."
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"He's sleeping off the barrel of whiskey he swam in last night," Mickey's voice sounded from the open bedroom
doorway. "I wouldn't expect him to be awake for another couple of hours." | flinched, turning my head to face
Mickey as he stepped into the sitting room. "How are you feeling, doll? Better | hope."
"|..." I shivered as Mickey reached out to squeeze my arm. "I need to know what happened last night. | need to
let Alex know that Stella drugged me!"
"We know what she did," Mickey said, his eyes glazing with fury. "And you better believe she's not going to get
away with it."
"Good," | snapped. "I don't trust her. That's the second tshe's done something like that to me. The first time
she-"
"Wait!" Mickey snapped. "What do you mean, the second time? She drugged you another time?"
| shook my head. "I don't know for sure. | think she *tried* another time, but | don't have any proof. But she
admitted to sending the wine out to me. She said it was from Santos. That Santos wantedto-" "Santos?!"
Mickey hissed, jolting forward. His bright green eyes were dark with calculation as he met Tiny's gaze. "Go and
get her scoffee. Get it now."
Tiny nodded, exiting the suite without another word. Mickey looked back at me, his eyes full of concern. My body
shuddered again as Mickey scooted closer, the bare muscles of his chest and arms flexing with barely contained
fury.
| took a deep breath, shaking off the flashing image of that *man* from last night. The fat one with the black
eyes. "God," | hissed, battling back the tears that burned behind my eyes. *I will not cry. | will not be their
victim.* "What do you know of Santos?" Mickey asked carefully.
I glared at him, suddenly irritated for no known reason. "I don't know anything about him. | figure he's just
another one of the guards Stella said | was hired to pleasure."
He nodded, his jaw clenching as a cold smile turned his lips. "Not quite. Is that what she told you? That Santos
was a guard?"
| groaned, "No! She just said that he was disappointed that | never tried the wine. That he couldn't wait to meet
absolutely certain that *Stella* said the n*Santos* to you?"
My eyes narrowed at him, anger erupting inside ofat his question. "Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes! She said
Santos. Why? Who the fuck is he?"
"Did you hear all that, Damien?" Mickey suddenly asked, and for the first t| noticed Damien awake and
leaning against the doorfrto the bedroom.
"I did," he said coldly. "When did she mention him to you, Romany? Where were you?"
| shrugged, beginning to realize that Santos was not a guard after all. "We were at breakfast. The morning after
that first meeting. Over a week ago." "Check the tapes," Mickey growled. "Do it now. | want it ready for when
Alex wakes up."
"On it," Damien said, disappearing into my bedroom to get dressed.
As Damien cback out of my room, his eyes fell on me. They were full of pity and for sreason it made
"Okay," he said waspishly, his voice drenched in anger. "How would you liketo look at you then? Like a
whore? Or a-"
| would have leapt to my feet to slap him if Mickey hadn't gotten to him first. One minute Damien was standing
in front ofand the next Mickey had him slammed into the wall. "Do not ever let that word pass your mouth
again when talking about her!" Mickey hissed. "She's upset! Let her be. Just go and check the tapes."
"Fine," Damien growled, shoving Mickey off of him. "I'm sorry," Damien hissed, closing his eyes. "I didn't mean it,
Romany. | just-"
"Go!" Mickey shouted.
"Right," Damien said, throwingone last apologetic glance before leaving the suite.
"Asshole," | grumbled, after he left.
Mickey sighed, taking a seat on the ottoman in front of me. He smiled sadly, clasping his hands together in front
of himself. "He didn't mean any of that. He's just... feeling guilty is all. He blames himself."
"So," | inquired, my eyes heating with more tears. "He wasn't... in the meeting last night?"
Mickey's face hardened, the green fire of his gaze blazing with an unknown emotion. "He was not. Neither was I,"
Mickey admitted. "But | wish | had been."
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| snickered. "Oh? Upset that you missed out?" | don't know why I said it, but | did and the look of resentment that
Mickey suddenly wore on his face chilledto the bone.
He sneered, "Take it easy, doll. Don't you dare lumpin with those lowlife fucks."
"I'm sorry," | apologized, clamping my eyes shut with embarrassment. "I'm just having a hard tremembering
sof it and the parts that | do remember are... pretty bad. The worst part is not knowing *who* | was with last
night. *Who!?* | can remember Alex and then sguy that I'd never even seen before, but that's it! And even
*those* images don't feel real! If | weren't so... sore"-I gasped out and Mickey's eyes lit with new anger-"I would
wonder if | didn't imagine the whole thing."
"Sore?" Mickey repeated through clenched teeth, just as the door to the suite opened and Tiny cin with a
carafe of coffee and three mugs. "You're... still hurting?" He ground out, his fists and muscles clenching as his
knee began to bounce in front of him.
"Y-yes," | answered him, accepting the mug of coffee from Tiny and taking a grateful sip.
Mickey jumped up, his muscles suddenly relaxing as he tossed a deeply dimpled smile my way. "I have some
phone calls to make," he said suddenly, meeting Tiny's eyes in a silent question. "Downstairs," Tiny informed
him. "With... the snake."
"Breakfast?" Mickey questioned him.
Tiny shook his head. "Not yet."
"I guess | should be getting dressed then," Mickey stated, glancing back at me. "We'll talk later, doll. | promise."
"Wait!" | snapped. "I want to go to breakfast! | want to look that bitch in her eyes." Mickey and Tiny are both
shaking their heads. "What do you mean, no? That's what | want! And | think I've earned it!"
"But... Enzo is down there," Mickey chuckled humorlessly. "Are you ready to see him too? Are you sure you can
handle that?"
My mind piqued, a familiar anger climbing into my stomach with the new memory that flashed behind my eyes. |
flinched, my chest heaving as more details cascaded into me.
Details like a certain someone getting dressed and walking away from me. And then... that ssomeone
turning around with a smug, satisfied smile as he buckled his ugly pants. *Enzo... that bastard. Alex was right.*
Ignoring the soreness in my limbs, | stood up and spat, "I'm going to breakfast."
A slow predatory grin spread across Mickey's face. "Whatever you want, doll. Lead the way."
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