“No shit?”
I nod. “I just got paraded around a room. Luckily, I didn’t have to do anything. It was more a show so the people who were interested could choose who they were going to pay for.”
“What was the story?”
I swallow down a large gulp of my margarita. “Turned out to be nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
Okay, well I knew he would know that. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Just like you don’t want to talk about why you no longer are doing a job you love.”
“It’s complicated. And I don’t want to talk about it in public.”
He nods. “Fair enough.”
I don’t know if I am ever going to talk to him about it. There is just too much pain behind it all. I think what hurts worse is knowing it’s still going on. The sex, the trafficking. I could have gotten into so much trouble. I could have been sold. I could have ended up like Alana. I should be happy all that happened to me was being blacklisted. But all I can think about is those poor women. The ones that don’t have a voice or a choice. The ones who will sell themselves to make some cash even if it is completely demoralizing. And Alana. I literally have blood on my hands.
“You okay?” Carson asks me.
I look up at him and realize I got lost in thought. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
He gives me a strange look but I don’t have to answer as our food gets brought to the table.
Fortunately he changes the subject and I spend the next hours enjoying his company and margaritas.
When we get back to the hotel, he presses me against the door as I shut it. He doesn’t even give me a chance to breathe as he is shoving my jeans down and slamming into me. This is what I need to get my mind off those girls, those women. That damn article that would make my entire career and probably kill me at the same time.