By the time I’m inside and my coat is hung neatly on the hook behind the door, I’m pretty much ready. I’m wearing what I’ve been told to wear—black lace. Eli, the private investigator I hired to help me find my sister, wasn’t any more specific than that. He’s the one who set this whole thing up.
“Sometimes money just isn’t enough to buy what you’re looking for, sweetheart. Sometimes it takes a little more…persuasion to buy information like this. I tell you what…I’ll share what I know in return for a little favour.”
“What kind of favour?”
“You spread your legs for a paying customer and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” The disgusting pig has the audacity to smile. “Oh come now, Ms Romera. Don’t look at me like that. You want to find your sister, don’t you?”
And in the end, I’d agreed. He was right; I do want to find Lex, and I’ll clearly do anything to make that happen. Even if I’ll never be able to live with myself afterward.
Aside from the lingerie, Eli told me to bring something else with me today, something hidden in the pocket of my jacket. I take it out and put it on. The mask is a black lace number with blood-red lace edging and makes me a feel a little more disguised at least. I hit the light switch in the bathroom and rummage in my purse for the only thing that’s going to keep me sane during this experience: a box of Valium. One of the perks of being a fifth year resident is that there’s always someone available to prescribe medication when you need it, no questions asked. The sedative’s not even in my name, will never appear on my medical record. I pop one, just enough to keep me calm but not enough to make me drowsy, and then I peer into the mirror, fixing the band of my mask underneath my hair.
You look like shit, Sloane.
I tell myself this every time I look into a mirror these days. It may be the truth, but then again it may not. I’ve been staring at myself in mirrors for so long now that the reflection just doesn’t make any sense anymore. Lex was always the beautiful one. I know I have a nice body. Eli said that was the only reason he was willing to do business with me, because my tits were real and I had a nice ass. Your height might make some guys uncomfortable, but hey…not a lot you can do about that. I focus on the dark rings under my eyes, trying to remember that this is all temporary. It’s not forever. I’m a medical student after all. The body is just a machine, full of cogs and intricate parts all ticking away, working in harmony to keep you moving. Having sex is just making use of that machine, nothing more.
You can do this, Sloane. You can do this.
And then, not even two seconds later…
Lex wouldn’t want this for you. She wouldn’t want you used and abused, selling yourself for so little. I hate that voice inside my head. It makes it so hard to justify going through with this, but it’s not as though I’m auctioning off my most valuable possession for drugs or money, or even fame and fortune like some girls do. No, I am doing it out of love. Love for Lex. Any sister would do the same.
It’s been six months and I’m still no closer to finding Alexis, and this really does feel like my last resort. Eli’s smart—he’s given me just enough information to keep my hope alive but nowhere near enough to risk me backing out of our little arrangement.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Holy shhhh—” The door. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, trapping the curse word behind my teeth. It’s go time.
Mr Hanson will have collected his key from the chirpy concierge downstairs, but I was told to expect the knock. Let’s me know the guy I’m going to be sleeping with is here and I have to wait in the bathroom until he comes to get me. I pull the door closed and for a brief second a rush of fear grapples hold of me. If I lock myself in here and refuse to come out, how long would he wait until he gets pissed off and leaves? I can’t do that, though. Eli would never hold up his end of the bargain, and besides…none of this matters anymore. None of it. It’s just something I have to get through.
I hear the electronic beep of the key card being accepted into the door, and the rough catch of the lock sliding back. Silence follows after that. The edge of the sink digs into the back of my legs, as I remain frozen, leaning heavily against it, before I remember I shouldn’t do that. It’ll mark my body, and that’s against the rules, even temporary marks like that.
Thankfully the drugs begin to kick in, washing over me with a muted sense of peace. A good thing, too, because whoever is out there takes their sweet time in making themselves at home. Without it, I’d have been on the verge of on making a run for it by the time a knuckle raps against the door. “Come on out. Turn the light off first,” a voice commands. It’s gruff and full of gravel, maybe the voice of a smoker? Fucking great. I’m going to have to spend the next two hours with my tongue down a smoker’s throat, and then I’m gonna have to bleach my mouth out. I turn the light off and open the door, and I’m perplexed by what I see beyond.
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing. The room is pitch black.