FOUND: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel by Scarlet Korin

minutes.
    “...Though Jerome, I have to ask, do you have her on lock enough to make her turn a trick.”
    Of course it wouldn't last.
    The passive aggressive fuck! That tricky, sneaky dick! Every pore in my body realized what he was doing. What he built to...
    Ez's rat face turned to me, his eyes now wantonly tracing a line down my body. From the moment I met him, his eyes drilled a hole through my clothes eager to see what lay underneath. This was his plan all along. He wanted me, and tried to manipulate Jerome into giving me up.
    I raised a hand, ready to tear in.
    Ez cut me off sharply, “Let us men do the talking for once.”
    I looked to Jerome. He sat back in silent meditation, having poured himself another drink. The bottle he won rested held in his lap.
    “Well?” Ez asked. “Cat got your tongue?”
    I turned to him and let rip, “If you think for one second I'll---”
    But this time Jerome cut me off. “I can make her do anything.”
    I couldn't believe it. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? Shock overwhelmed me. I couldn't speak.
    Ez laughed, half-manically and half-gleefully, which set off the rest of the group too. The manipulator continued, “Well... how about it then?”
    I watched as he took a huge bankroll from his pocket and began laying down twenty dollar bills on the table. One after the other. There was at least five-hundred dollars. Each bill dirtier than the last.
    “I'll even sweeten the deal. Give me a night with her and, in exchange for your dime piece, you can any of my girls here...”
    I sat stunned by what played out before me. My feelings didn't matter at all to their dealings. The way Ez spoke about me was like how someone talks about a piece of meat they intend buy at the store. I was a commodity, pure and simple. While I was once a stripper, a stripper does her business on her own terms. This was on another level. During this transaction my existence was forgotten.
    To my right, Jerome still sat in contemplation without any sign of movement.
    Jerome leered. “... Remember this bank closes soon.”
    I interrupted, “You can't be serious!”
    “Done,” Jerome's head lifted and he replied.
    Done ...
    And we were done. A great big axe came crashing down between us as we sat on that red fake-velvet couch. Symbolic, of course, but it was just as heavy and death-dealing. How could any man trade his woman to another?
    Ez smacked his palms together elated. “I like it. I like it. Good to see my boy still can check his women. I always say, 'if you can't turn a bitch out she ain't nothin' to you'... I got some beds up in the manager's office. Everyone here won't mind if we disappear for some fun.”
    Jerome nodded, impassively as if none of this was a concern. To tell you the truth, right then I'm sure he valued the bag of coke in his pocket more than me.
    A loud upbeat song hit the speakers and everyone else around began talking among themselves.
    Ez placed a hand on my knee. “Come on, girl.”
    But I lost it. As mild-mannered, soft, weak – whatever you want to call me – as I am; I couldn't hold it in. I lost it and all eyes were suddenly on me. The kind of moment where the record stops with a scratch.
    “I'm not that kind of girl. If you think for one second I'm doing anything like that, you're crazy!” Venom lashed out in every word I spoke. Who could blame me? I had just been sold like cattle.
    Ez jumped back chuckling. “We got some fire in the house!”
    His excited tone agitated me even more. He didn't, not for one second, take what I said seriously. He viewed me like a stupid and confused child. His intonation spoke volumes.
    “Outside!” Jerome ordered deeply the second I stood to protest further.
    I knew that tone. I understood it all too well. It meant move. Move or else .
    I turned for the door, leaving Ez making a joke at my expense, and Jerome flanked me instantly with a grip of my arm. He kept pace behind me while we made our way down the flight of stairs