“No, no,” I say firmly and fast. “Mace told you what patches mean to us, as wanting someone to wear their name is a big deal and not done lightly. We view property one way, as something to be cherished, cared for and protected. Major obviously uses the word to show ownership. I will cover your tattoo, hide it completely, no ifs or buts about that, Shayla. But we do need to know who Major is. Helping you might bring trouble to our door, and we need to be prepared to face it.”
Her shoulders slump. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about what it might mean for you. We’ll go—”
“Hey, hold up.” Mace waits for her eyes to come to his. “Trouble is what we live for, sweetheart. We just need to know who we’re dealing with. You think you can get your tat covered,” his hand waves toward the door through which Esme had disappeared, “hers too, then disappear into the night. What if Major finds you? Gets out of you where you had the work done? What if he’s circulating your picture around and someone has seen you coming in and out of here? Lands us with a heap of problems, trouble, and we don’t know where it’s coming from. So one, we need information to work with and two, I want to help you. I’ve got a feeling all of the club will have your back when you finally tell us what’s going on.”
She stares intently at him, then turns those eyes with such hidden depths to me. She shudders, an action which shakes her whole body. Then slowly, she nods. “I worked on the outskirts of Vegas. I went into town to drop off some paperwork for my boss. I knew the accountant, and when he asked me out for a drink, I went. By the time I walked back to my car, it was dark—”
“He didn’t escort you?” I butt in.
“No.” She seems surprised. “It wasn’t a relationship, just two colleagues socialising. I wouldn’t have expected it.” She shakes her head as if dismissing the very notion while I inwardly seethe. Doesn’t matter if the woman means something or not, she shouldn’t be walking the streets alone at night. A glance at Mace’s tense face shows he’s of the same opinion.
“Anyway,” she continues, “it was dark. Suddenly arms were pulling me into an alley, then something was put over my nose and mouth… When I woke up…” her eyes close, and Mace reaches out his hand to take hers. When she startles and pulls hers away, he holds up both palms toward her in apology.
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s me, I…”
“Just tell us the rest.” Her reaction needs no explanation.
“When I came to, that’s when I met Major. He said I was now his to do with what he wanted. It was only the next day I was forced to have this tattoo. They restrained me, held me down, I couldn’t move. Then, he and his men raped me.”
She says it so coldly, so matter-of-factly. Rage boils inside as I crease shut my eyes, trying to avoid even thinking of the picture she’s painting. I’d imagined the worst and I’d been right to do so.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Mace’s hands are clenched as though ready to beat someone to a pulp. I watch him fight to hold himself together, eventually doing so enough to spit out, “He’s a pimp, and you were an unwilling part of his stable.” His tone is chilling, letting me know if he ever comes face-to-face with the man, Major will be in a world of pain he would be unable to imagine. I’ll be right there behind him.
Shayla sobs. “I didn’t make it easy for him. I fought, I was punished. I tried to escape, no chance, I was brought back. I kicked men in the balls, they retaliated.” She shakes her head and winces. “They used tasers so my skin wouldn’t be marked.” Her flat tone of voice as she pronounces her final words make goosebumps break out on my skin. “He broke me.”
Mace is likewise affected. Standing and turning, he bangs his fist against the wall. “Motherfucker,” he snarls.
Now she’s started, Shayla’s going to complete her story. “Once I was totally compliant, he put me to work. He’s a pimp, yes. A high-end one. He’d dress me up pretty, send me out with some of his men to pre-arranged appointments. Sometimes alone, sometimes with another woman. We had to do whatever his clients wanted. I was his property, as he told me time after time. I belonged to him, and being marked as I am, I could never escape him. I’m surprised he didn’t add his phone number and a ‘if found please return to’ address on the tattoo. Of course, I didn’t suggest that to him.”
“I can fuckin’ understand why you want that tat gone,” Mace turns and states, his face taut with rage.
“All his girls were tattooed?” It’s an obvious statement though I’d intoned it as a query.
She nods. “Yes. To show we belonged to him.”
“Was Esme already there?” I’m barely holding on to my rage at the thought that sweet girl had been through the same things as Shayla.
Her face twists. “No. She came later. I begged him to let her go. I said she was special, he called her stupid. She cried and cried because of the pain of the tattoo but didn’t understand what he’d done. She didn’t realise why all the men would tell her, you’re Major’s, but they just continued until she believed it. It broke my heart when she told me she was his. I’m Major’s, she’d say. And then, when she wouldn’t stop talking, she was tasered. Again and again.” She looks up and her eyes meet mine. “I begged him to let me take her punishment for her.” Again, that full body shudder as if remembering the prongs hitting her. “He took me up on the offer, but that meant if she spoke, we were both tasered... She does talk a little, but only to me, and only when no one’s there.” She looks up and meets my eyes. “He said it didn’t matter she had nothing between her ears, his clients would only care what was between her legs.”
Mace kicks the chair he’d recently been sitting in. “He’s fuckin’ dead. But he’s not going to go easy. I’ll kill him, revive him, and kill him all over again. He’ll beg to die before I’m finished.”
I let my eyes fall on Shayla. Mace is so angry, his rage coming off him in palpable waves. I’m concerned how she’ll be taking it and expect to see her cringing in her seat. But she’s not. She’s staring at him wide-eyed in wonder, as if he’s some kind of hero, truly comprehending for the first time that he and I are nothing like Major.
Although my wants and desires are the same as my brother’s, I’m trying to keep calm so as not to frighten her. I get her attention back to me. “How did you escape, Shayla? From what you said, it sounds impossible. So how did you get free?”
Slowly she blinks, as if having difficulty switching between Mace’s fury and my patient questioning. She provides her answer. “Esme was special. She was so clearly innocent. Major was waiting for the right time, the right man. I suspect he knew he’d get good money offering up her virginity. I hoped he’d never find someone so twisted…” Her face fills with pain. “They’d broken me. I’d given up searching for a way out. I’d become this obedient slave that did whatever I was asked to do. My life was over. I didn’t have the energy to try to escape anymore. I knew one day, one of the men I was given to was going to kill me, but even that was okay, and I hoped it would come sooner rather than later. Then Esme came along.” Her eyes flare as her mind takes her back in time. “I knew I had to try to get her out, even if it meant sacrificing myself. I couldn’t see how, but I was determined to do it. But no opportunity presented itself. I’d left it too late. He’d found a man who wanted her.”