“I didn’t get where I was because I let assholes like you make decisions for me. I’ll get off your boat, and I’ll find someone special. The whole world can’t be like you.”
Was that pity? “Eugenia, you’ll find nothing better than this boat. It might take some time for you to figure that out, but you’ll come to accept it.”
Ignoring him, she went on. “And I’ll keep breaking the shit they leave at my door. Let them spend their tickets on the others.”
“Raoul has gathered intel on your preferences from the first night he saw you. Risked the wastes to hunt down things the other women told him you’d like. That’s a bit coldhearted.”
“Oh,” she singsonged. “And then he falls in love and you kill him.”
“Naw. He’s had them all. The boys downstairs are running bets on who plows you first. He’s got a lot of tickets riding on winning you with a box of crap.”
How could she be so dense? “And that’s why you’re bribing me to come to your rooms.”
“So what if I am?”
“You’re worse than Wall Street… just without the slick suit or the manicured nails.”
By God, he actually looked down at the grit under his fingertips as if it had never registered it before.
And she laughed at him.
And it felt good.
“You are hands down…”
Hazel eyes landed on hers, penetrating through her. Possessive, and creepy, and uninvited. “Hands down what?”
That she was not touching with a ten-foot pole. “I gotta get back to Table #2. Screw intellectualism. Who needs education and a functioning brain when they were born with tits and an ass?”
Brushing past her tormentor to escape, she almost crossed the threshold before he seized her hand and pulled her back. Pushing a tube of Chapstick against her palm, the captain closed her fingers around it. “Cherry flavored, your favorite.”
Knowing by feel alone what was in her hand, she raised her eyes to his, and said, “I think I really will kill you next week.”
Then she popped off the safety plastic and swiped it on her mouth. Smacking her lips once she recapped the tube and threw it right in his face. It bounced off his forehead and landed on her sheets. A corner of the room she had no intention of going near so long as a man was lurking, smirking, and disgustingly pleased.
So she flipped him off and turned.
At her back, he chuckled. “I’ll be thinking of your special skill while Chloe is sucking my cock later.”
Shouting down the hall, she countered, “I’ll give her some pointers before she comes up to your rooms.”
***
Up until it was her turn to service the captain overnight, the “trades” kept coming. One box outside her door even contained a live chicken.
What the fuck was she going to do with a chicken?
Not that she didn’t pick it up and pet it, finding the feathers soft and the animal willing.
Had it been a puppy, that man might have won the bets.
Human anatomy was one thing. Poultry was another. But they’d let her loose around knives in order to get chores done, and the pretty, cuddly bird was ended quickly.
A butcher’s knife to the neck.
And just like wild game she caught back when she’d been free, she sat on the deck, looked over the view of a dead forest, and pulled the feathers so they might fall like snow. So she might have some repetitive action to distract her while she looked upon a world that had failed everyone in a way.
The bird was roasted and served to her table, set down in a bed of potatoes and carrots. The head served alongside. She didn’t eat a bite.
“I really did think the chicken might have won you.” It was Malachi who laughed, patting his full belly. “Think of the eggs. You could have traded those for more tickets.”
“I live in a closet and have nothing to feed it.” And yeah, she did feel a bit bad for killing the poor, aromatic thing.
“Of course you do! The other girls live in multi-room suites. Much nicer than the bunks we share downstairs.” Nudging the guy at his side, he said, “Right, Verne? You and I both know Jessica’s room well.”
“How much does that cost?” Because this was fascinating information.
“Oh, twenty-five thousand tickets a night! But it’s a real bed, not a pallet. And there is a private toilet and a soft woman.”
Jessica was nice. Quiet, disassociated. Kept to herself. Wasn’t the kind to put broken glass in the new girl’s food.
Someone deserving of a fine room to rest in, considering the shit she had to put up with.
“I like her.” Which should be said. “Jessica’s cool.”
The men at the table toasted Jessica’s name. Clicked their glasses and shared a moment of comradery Eugenia knew better than to analyze.
And then she saw him watching her.
Because this was his night to “win” the bets. She’d be in his rooms for a week, and he wanted every man here to know it. So he’d hold the prize. So he’d run the money.
Dirtbag.
A dirtbag who came to collect her when the bell was rung and the men lined up to dump their food and drink on Scarlett and Kim.
Where everyone could hear, he said, “We struck a deal, siren. Come along now, and let’s discuss that deepthroat you claimed to be an expert at performing.”
He led her away by the hand, wrapping an arm around her middle, as she hissed, “I’d throw myself off the side of this boat before I’d take your sorry penis in my mouth.” She was tempted to do it at that moment. Which was precisely why he’d put that covetous arm around her waist. “How many women have jumped overboard?”
His reply was easy. “I haven’t lost one yet. In fact, all those who leave always come back.”
“Bullshit.”
But Joan. Nice—as much as Eugenia hated to admit it—helpful, accommodating Joan had come back.
Brooke would be leaving after ten more men fucked her. Something she might accomplish in as little as three days. And no way was that girl ever coming back to this place. Not when she’d worked so hard to earn her way off.
Eugenia couldn’t wait to see her go, to wave and well wish, and taste a bit of freedom she’d never earn. At least not with tickets and whoring.
Chapter Six
The captain’s rooms were…
Much nicer than hers. Music came from an AI in the corner, Alecia. A device Eugenia had not seen in six years. A bit of hoarded history not one of the women had mentioned when they gathered for breakfast to poke fun at her turn.
And she’d thought she’d heard it all. His sexual preferences—hard, fast, from behind. His tendencies to brood if he wasn’t in the mood or the girl talked too much. Captain’s competitiveness at games and the way he refused to touch after sex.
The women were allowed to sleep on the bed, at a distance, but most chose the couch after it was over.
And he never, ever ejaculated inside. Same rules on the deck. The ol’ pull out and pray method.
Despite Eugenia’s lack of interest, they had given her a primer on the animal.
Manus dickus assholeus.
The music though…
“Hold on for a moment, eh?” Her smile dropped as he pulled her inside. Eugenia had not heard pre-bomb music in so long it felt like stepping on the moon.