Razing Grace: Razing Grace Part 1 by Amo Jones Page B

“Tripp?”
    “—Raze.”
    “Sorry,” I whisper, my eyes meeting his. “Raze, who’s Hachiro?” I drop my eyes down to the floor, trying to add up whatever story is behind this messed up plan.
    “I wouldn’t worry about Hachiro if I were you, pet. You have enough to worry about as it is.” He steps toward me, his musky sweet scent following closely behind him.
    “Did you buy me?” I ask, my eyes searching his.
    He smirks again. “I did.”
    Shit.
    “Why?” I ask, stepping backward until my back is pressing against the wall.
    “Because I like to collect shit.” He smirks, his tone playful.
    “What?”
    The door opens again and the same man who greeted us before when we walked in comes into the room. “Boss? Yeah we have a problem.”
    Tripp, or Raze, doesn’t flinch. His eyes remain on mine. He answers, “Show Millie where her room is.” Then he turns and leaves.
    Tattooed suit, door man—I really need to start learning people’s names, I’m getting tired of referring to people by their attire or their mask—nudges his head, his messy black hair falling around his collar. “Come. You heard him, I’ll show you your room.”
    A million thoughts are surging through me. Why the hell am I here? Why did he buy me and is he going to let me go? I scoff to myself. Not likely. Walking towards the long haired man, I follow him as he leads me up the same stairs I walked past when I thought I was being lead to some big time Japanese mob boss. The walls are covered in warm deep reds and maroons. The lighting is set dim, reminding me of a dragon’s lair. Maybe that’s where I’m being led to. I just saw Tripp without his mask on. He spoke more words to me in that small fifteen-minute window than he ever has the entire time I was at the base.
    Once we reach the top of the stairs, I continue to follow. “What’s your name?” I ask the wall of muscle in front of me.
    “You can call me Miles.” Clipped, but at least I got a straight answer.
    We continue to walk down the long hallway when a door opens as we pass it and a young woman steps out. Her dark black hair cascades down to her tailbone and her tight skinny body is held together by tiny lace panties and a bra. I bring my eyes to hers and she smirks at me, a smirk that sends shivers down my spine.
    “Miles?” I say as I pull my eyes away from hers. “Who was that?”
    He stops at a door and pushes it open. He steps aside and waves me into the room, but I remain there, watching and waiting for him to answer.
    “You want to ask questions? You’ll have to ask Raze.”
    “I’m not asking Raze, I’m asking you.”
    His eyes narrow on me. “I thought you were a nun?” he asks, his eyes raking up and down my body, and it’s the first time I realize I’m still wearing the tight dress I was sold in.
    “Yes,” I confirm. “Was.”
    He shakes his head. “Everything you will need is in here. Clothes are in the closet. Bathroom opposite your bed. Netflix. The windows are barred so don’t try to escape and if by chance you get your skinny ass through those bars, there’s a pack of Dobermans that run wild on the property. So if you don’t get shot, you’ll get eaten.” Then he turns and walks back the way we came. “Oh!” He tips his head over his shoulder. “And to answer your question? That’s Raze’s cute little toy, so play nice.”
    He laughs and continues out the door. I scrunch my face up in disgust before walking into the bedroom. Flicking the light on, I close the door behind myself.
    “Well, it’s not a dungeon,” I mutter under my breath. And it’s not. There’s a white metal four post bed that sits to the left of the room. A window directly in front of me that’s covered by a netted curtain. Opposite the bed, an average sized television hangs on the dark grey walls and to the left of it is the bathroom and to the right is the closet.
    There’s a cheval mirror which stands in the corner, and my reflection catches my eye. It’s