His Girl

Chapter 4

Hey guys! Sorry it's been a couple of days! I've been busy with family and school stuff! To make up for it, this chapter is a little longer!

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I stared down at the clothes Deacon wanted me to wear for his new client and cringed. I hated it when he picked out my clothes. A sleeveless black crop top was laid out, and I could tell just by looking at it that it was going to be extra tight against my chest. The skirt he had chosen could barely classify as a piece of clothing, as I doubted it would cover anything. I rubbed the sore spot on my neck, wincing when I grazed the tender flesh. I had proof on my neck of what would happen if I didn't obey.

So I slipped on the outfit.

I brushed my hair since it had gotten tangled during my time in the car with Deacon. I shuddered thinking about it, looking at my neck in the mirror. A bruise was already beginning to form on my skin, two half crescents facing each other. The area around it was bright red, almost purple.

I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at his mark anymore. When I opened them again, I avoided looking at that spot.  My fingers twitched nervously as I threw my hair up into a messy bun. I swiped on some makeup as quickly as I could, covering up all the scars, bumps, and bruises; Deacon always made me wear makeup when I saw a client.  

I gazed into the mirror one last time. The outfit was tight and revealing, showing off much more than I was comfortable with. My stomach twisted into knots, knowing that Deacon hadn't intended for me to wear this outfit for very long. I clasped my shaking hands together before leaving the relatively safe confines of my room.

One of Deacon's men, Ryder, stood outside my door, arms crossed, waiting for me. As soon as I stepped out, his greedy eyes raked my body from top to bottom. He slid up to me, hands dropping around my waist, steadily moving lower. My eyes widened. I tried to take a step back, but my back hit the wall.

I was trapped.

"Now, don't be like that, baby," he cooed, trying to reassure me as his hand reached the back of my thigh. "I'm not going to hurt you." His fingers traced the bottom of my mini skirt. He squeezed one of my cheeks, letting his hand explore further. I couldn't stop my body from trembling at his touch. I felt his breath hit my neck as he whispered into my ear, "I just wanna touch."

Before it could go any further, I heard a voice behind Ryder growl. "Knock it off, you idiot. The client is waiting for her."

I felt him remove his hands as he turned around to shoot Deacon a sleazy smile. "Of course, boss."

My eyes immediately found the ground, avoiding contact with the two men. I crossed my arms across my stomach, my stomach twisting inside me. I felt dirty like I needed to take a shower. 

Deacon pushed Ryder out of the way, his hand finding my back, nudging me towards the back of the house. "Let's go. Don't want to keep Mr. Marshall waiting."

I tried to hide my frown as we continued our path out of the house and to the poolhouse, the name ringing a bell in the back of my mind.

We stopped at the entrance; the view through the glass door was blocked by dark curtains, so I couldn't see the man inside. Before going in, Deacon twisted me to face him, adjusting my top to show more cleavage and moving my hair to where he liked it. I avoided his gaze while he did this, watching a bird fly off in the distance instead. It was a beautiful day outside; too bad I hardly ever got to spend any time outdoors. I held in my sigh, wishing I could be free.