Every Woman Has a Price — Chapter 27 — by Redsliver
Chapter Title : In The Red
* * *Owen pushed open eyelids that felt heavy as anvils. Even the soft sterile lighting of a hospital felt too bright. He wanted to cover his eyes but his hand didn’t answer. He grimaced and tried to push his thoughts through the draining anaesthetic. He’d gone most of his life with fewer than a visit to the hospital every three years. And those as a visitor. Since Christmas, in less than a month, he had been a patient in a hospital three times. First by his grandfather, then by Brett, now by Kirk. Owen’s head was still too full of morphine fluff to think through what that meant.
His ears weren’t working like they were supposed to. He heard excited voices shouting in elation and command. The words couldn’t pass into his still medicated brain. He tried to lift his arms again, to reach out to someone. It was like he did and didn’t. He frowned. A doctor leaned over and shined a small flashlight in his eyes.
“Owen… Owen…” The doctor’s voice manifested in reality and Owen turned his head away from the light. The doctor grabbed Owen’s chin, turned his face back and shined the light again. He then turned it off. “Owen?”
“What’s up, doc?” Owen said, his tongue felt weird.
“Good, you’re conscious,” the doctor said. “You lost a lot of blood and we had to operate on your arm. However, good news, I have no reason to doubt you could live a good long time after this.”
“Good, I’d made plans for 2056. I wouldn’t want to have to cancel,” Owen said.
“A sense of humor,” the doctor smiled. “You’ll need that. Your broken wrist is healing nicely.”
“Oh, because I rebroke it a week or so back and…”
“I’m aware,” the doctor said. “The surgery we performed on your other arm is another matter. Can you lift your left hand for me?”
Owen did as he was told. He even tried to wave. It didn’t feel right, but Owen was really high on painkillers.
“Now the whole arm, from the shoulder,” the doctor asked.
Owen did so again. He frowned seeing his wrist hang limply from the elbow.
“I thought as much,” the doctor said. He took out a small wrapper and produced a sterile pin from it. “Can you feel this?”
“Feel what?” Owen looked down as the doctor poked the front of his pinkie, then his ring, then his middle fingers to no effect. The doctor pushed the pin into the index finger. “Yeah!” Owen said, excitedly, though it felt spongy and soft, not hard and sharp. “I feel something on the index finger.”
“Better than I thought,” the doctor said. “Though, some feeling wasn’t impossible, but it was unexpected. You’re going to need months of physical therapy, I think.”
“I’ll just have to buy the best physical therapist I can,” Owen said. He smiled smugly. “A really hot one.”
“I’ve had a number of patients tell me Hector’s really hot,” the doctor laughed. “But, I think you mean hire.”
“No, I—” Owen frowned. He didn’t have any coins left. There was no one he could buy. He was stuck with everyone he had. “Shit. I guess I do have to hire somebody.”
“You’re a weird dude,” The doctor said. He put on his serious face again. “I don’t expect you’ll ever regain motor control over your numb digits. The index finger? Maybe.”
“You didn’t try my thumb,” Owen said.
“Yes, I did,” the doctor said, frowning for a moment. “You’ll not have hands until that cast comes off in, at best, about two weeks. If you can stay out of any more massive criminal battles. Luckily, I’ve spoken to Miss Cork, you’ve got a very special woman to look after you.”
“I’ve got a few,” Owen said, not knowing whose last name was Cork. Shit, Janice Lahey. Tamara Peterson. Um… Shit. Roxxi’s first name wasn’t really even Roxxi.
“I hope the arrogance outlasts the painkillers,” the doctor said. “The police want to talk to you now.”
“Right,” Owen said. He reached out and grabbed the doctor’s sleeve. But his arm didn’t go. Owen said, “Stop!”
“Yeah?” The doctor stopped at the door.
“Janice Lahey?” Owen asked. “She was shot.”
“Still in surgery,” the doctor said. “You’ll know when there’s something to know.”
“Oh god,” Owen said. He had gone through surgery. He had slept off the anaesthetic. Janice was still under the knife. “Oh motherfucking god.”
“Brett Anderson is in recovery, but in the ICU,” the doctor added. Owen nodded but his thoughts were for Janny.
The doctor frowned and opened the door to the hallway and let in officer Mulhaney and a tall man. The tall man wore a clean but cheap suit. Owen closed his eyes and tried his hardest to shake off the drugs. Maybe it worked. There was a thought that floated uncompleted behind Owen’s eyes. Why did he think he owned the uniform? Wendy and Brandy wouldn’t give up the guns until... Yes, Mulhaney belonged to Owen.
Be careful, Owen, the detective’s not your creature. It was hard to think, but Owen did manage to warn himself.
“Mr MacKay,” the detective started.
“Lawyer,” Owen said.
“You’re not under arrest,” the detective said. “We just want to ask some questions.”
“On drugs. Lawyer,” Owen said.
“That’s not a bad idea with the state he’s in,” Mulhaney said.
“Goddammit…” The detective gave a sharp look at his support. The glare was easy to read: You side with your partner, that’s your job. The detective turned back to Owen. “Fine. Who’s your lawyer?”
“Dunno,” Owen said. “I’ve never needed a lawyer until now.”
“Great…” The detective said. He smirked. There were a few good people he could send to this kid. The shootings were in the bag. Easiest attempted murder case the detective had ever worked. After all, Marcusson had copped to the charges. The man showed more frustration that he had failed than guilt that he had shot two unnecessary people. Attempted murder check. Kirk had a motive. His high school aged daughter and all of the other women, bought and sold by Owen. A prostitution ring with a multimillionaire heiress for hire? Two, if that Natasha LeCarre was for hire. This was the case of a lifetime: fame, career, and an unsympathetic pimp who preyed on high schoolers?
Coincidentally, the detective had no inclination to bust prostitutes. It’s not so much illegal to sell sex, in Canada. It’s illegal to participate, buy, or profit off of women (and men, ostensibly) who sell sex. Stops pimping. This is to make certain the sex workers are safe. That’s why it’s illegal to rent an apartment to a tenant who’s paying rent with their sex work profits. Landlords are compelled to evict those girls. After all, you can’t profit off of prostitutes. That’s how the law keeps girls out on the street. Where it’s safe.
Yeah, there were flaws with the law, but it did make pimping illegal. Owen seemed to have been pimping ignorant college girls, desperate waitresses, and his own fucking cousin, on top of Wendy Gao.
“Mulhaney, call your ex-wife,” the detective said. “She’ll handle it.”
“Wife, actually, we’re separated but not div—I can call her, but Geraldine’s a crown prosecutor,” Mulhaney pointed out. “He needs a defense lawyer.”
“The would-be divorce is gonna be messy as hell, right?” Owen asked, with a smile. “You still have that girl in radiology?”
“Don’t answer that.” the detective smirked and shook his head. From his face, let alone Mulhaney’s nodding head, the truth was out.
“She’ll probably know someone who can help me,” Owen said. “Call Geraldine. Get her to take the case.”
“She’ll know somebody who can take your case,” the detective corrected. Owen smiled in a morphine amplified agreement. “If she’s on you, then you’ll see her across the courtroom.”
Owen nodded and laid back. “I’m going to sleep off some of the painkillers. I’ll be here when the lawyer arrives.”
The detective sighed. He stood up and turned to Mulhaney. “Call her. Do we have any other interviews left?”
“No, all of the remaining girls had freaked out and would only talk with Keating,” Mulhaney said.
“Probably would’ve worked with Jensen or LeBlanc,” the detective said, considering.
“Maybe,” Mulhaney said. “But none of the female detectives were on deck for this one.”
“Shit, Keating’ll have to handle it. They send a trauma counsellor?” The detective asked. They stepped outside. Owen was shocked to see his dad and Aunt Lauren, Janice’s mom, rush in the door. Raymond, Owen’s father, leaned over the bed, ready to crush Owen in a hug, but stopped.
“Can I?” Dad asked.
“I can’t quite hug you back, but I would,” Owen said. He felt his lungs compress by how hard his dad squeezed him. Owen saw the tears flooding Lauren’s eyes and her shoulders shaking. He saw the red rims of his father’s eyes when he stood up.
“What the hell are you getting shot over?” his dad’s angry, frustrated, confused question was cut by the rasp of a dry throat. Lauren pushed Raymond aside to hug her nephew. Owen tried to lift his casted hand to hug Lauren back. He poorly managed.
“I’m so sorry,” Owen said, his heart smashing his ribs apart when Lauren let go. “I didn’t want anything to happen to Janny and I didn’t know what I was getting into!”
“It’s your fault?” Lauren asked, white as a ghost. “Who are all of those women out there? I’m just glad the doctor had said only family could come in.”
“I tried to sell grandpa’s coins,” Owen said. “And, well, um, the pawn guy’s daughter took a liking to me. I—” Owen took a deep breath. His father’s jaw set. “I didn’t know Kirk, the seller, was such a psycho.”
“This is over a girl?” Raymond worried. “The worst thing that happened to me over a girl was a drink in the face.”
“And you had way more luck with girls than Owen ever had,” Lauren said. “What’s that got to do with Janny? With guns?!”
“I’m sorry,” Owen said. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“How about the truth?” Raymond said. He was pushing aside his worry in favor of anger and impatience. His son was shot, and Raymond feared he had raised a fool. He was far more angry and disgusted with the shooter, but he only had his son in front of him to direct blame, confusion, and worry.
“As much as I can,” Owen nodded.
“Then that’s not the truth,” Raymond said.
Owen had never seen his father so angry and disappointed. Owen took a deep breath. Raymond waited and Lauren kept looking at the door. Probably looking for the nurse or doctor that was going to come and bring her to Janny. A living Janny, Owen hoped.
“Well, Grandpa thought they were cursed,” I said. Aunt Lauren snorted in disbelief. “And whether or not that’s true… It made them attractive to this French… Actually he might be Egyptian. I’m not—”
“Does it matter?” Raymond interrupted.
“No, it’s trivia,” Owen said. “Anyway, he’s going to buy them for millions. I was working through this broker, Kirk Marcusson, and he lets his daughter run the store. Plus, I sorta picked up this girl, a waitress too, and Tamara, you remember her from high school… And, um…”
“You got a bunch of women pissed off by flaunting that you were about to have millions of dollars and making them compete with each other?” his father filled in the blanks.
“Every boy goes through something like that,” Lauren said, clearly not listening all of the way.
“He’s saying his incautiousness is the reason Janny got shot,” Raymond said to Lauren.
“He’s saying it’s Isaac’s fault,” Lauren said. “Despite everything we did that lech still got his infection into our kids. God damn him.”
“Lauren,” Raymond said. “It’s OK. I’m terrified too. Go sit with Cullen and Shannon.”
“I needed to get out and see someone come out of surgery!” Lauren said. She turned to Owen. Owen’s heart broke to see Lauren’s eyes swimming with tears. His aunt rushed over and hugged Owen hard.
“Shannon should be in here,” Lauren said, whimpered really. She stood up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “He has girls out there waiting for him? We should let them say hi.”
“So he can show off his Isaac Lahey lechery?” Raymond said. “Let them wait.”
“Dad,” Owen started. He took a deep breath. “Who’s out there? How many?”
“All three of them, Tamara, the waitress, and the young one,” Raymond said.
Owen frowned. Just Tamara, Elizabeth, and Frieda? Maybe the rest of his girls went to the police station?
“Good,” Owen said. “They’ll sort this out.”
A nurse came in. Owen tried to sit up and moaned. He was eager to hear about Janice. The nurse frowned. “You asked to be apprised of everything. Brett Anderson had to be taken back into surgery.”
Owen started crying.
Lauren rushed over and hugged him. “Who was Brett? A friend?”
“He’s the guy who punched me in the face,” Owen said. Raymond frowned, Owen’s black eye was mostly recovered but it’d be a few days more before it was fully healed up. “He’s the one… He took the bullet for me, that’s why it only got me in the arm.”
“He’s a fucking hero,” Raymond understood. “Why’d he deck you?”
“He, was, um...” Owen quietly muttered.
“I’ll leave you to your conversation,” the nurse said.
“Janice?” Lauren rushed the nurse.
“She’s still in surgery,” the nurse said. “As soon as I know, I’ll send the doctor to you.”
“Thank you,” Lauren said. Her voice hitching with the threat of a furious cry. Raymond took her in his arms and Lauren swallowed her feelings and straightened her back.
“I’m going to send his girls in,” Raymond decided. “Let’s go sit with Cullen. He’s a wreck without someone there with him, and Shannon’ll need to come see Owen too.”
“Thank you,” Lauren nodded. She looked over at Owen. “I’m glad you’re not hurt any worse.”
“I’m praying for Janice,” Owen said. It’d help his aunt and Owen didn’t have anything else he could do or say. His father came over for another hug.
“You took a man’s girlfriend and he took a bullet for you,” Raymond inferred, correctly. Owen was glad he hadn’t mentioned that the coins really were cursed. Brett’s conflicting heroism might have actually let Raymond believe it. “You follow in your grandfather’s footsteps. It’s a dangerous road. Maybe you should follow my dad’s advice and get a real job and work on a quiet life with a family.”
“Maybe I want a loud family,” Owen said.
“You always did like hanging out with Janny.” Raymond laughed a little. He walked over, took Lauren around the shoulders. They headed out into the hallway.
Owen saw the policeman sitting at the door to his hospital room. He frowned. He needed a lawyer. What if the policeman’s biggest enemy wasn’t his to-be ex-wife. Maybe Owen should’ve asked his father?
Darlene, Roxxi, and Tamara powered into Owen’s hospital room. Six eyes, rimmed in six red rings showed the lack of tears remaining to fall. Owen frowned. The waitress, the girl, and Tamara. His father hadn’t known. Owen was disappointed. He had wanted to see Elizabeth.
“Oh my god!” Roxxi shot across the room and hugged Owen. “Oh my god!”
“Hey Roxxi,” Owen said. She was a wreck, her blue hair was all over the place. This might’ve been the first time he had ever seen her without far too much eyeliner. She really was a cute kid. “You’re 18, right?”
“I turned 19 a couple of days before I was yours!” she said. She was talking in spikes of shouts to keep her twitchy throat from hiccuping during her words.
“And Frieda’s still got ten months in her barely legalness,” Tamara added. She pulled away Roxxi and hugged Owen too. Darlene hovered at the doorway.
“I’d wave you over and tell you it’s OK,” Owen said, “But my hand doesn’t work.”
“Oh fuck…” Darlene covered her face.
“Bring her over here,” Owen said to Tamara. Roxxi perked up first and ran to grab Darlene’s elbow. Roxxi tried to drag the taller, curvier, heavier woman over. Darlene would’ve scowled to hear that comparison. Roxxi was diminutive, petite, and a little flat chested. Darlene would’ve been looking for any reason to feel something other than guilt or fear. Tamara put an arm around Darlene’s shoulders and walked the girl over with Roxxi’s lead.
“I didn’t want Janice to die!” Darlene said, hovering over the bed, unable to bring herself down to hug Owen. Owen’s eyes flattened.
“She’s not dead,” Owen said.
“But—She got shot! And I just didn’t want to share you with her,” Darlene said. “I wished for horrible things to happen to her! But I didn’t want them to happen!”
“That’s OK,” Owen said.
“It’s not!” Darlene shouted.
“Do you know all of the horrible shit I wished on people who were dating girls I thought were hot? Brett slugged me in the face and had Elizabeth,” Owen said. “I wished for much worse than you, and I caused it. If I’m OK, you’re OK.”
“You’re not OK!” Darlene said.
“It’s true, I got shot. I got hurt. My arm—”
“No! We’re not OK! Not OK inside!” Darlene blubbered.
Tamara was about to slap Darlene out of her funk but Owen ordered Tamara to “Stop!”
“She’s a mess,” Tamara said. “And she doesn’t get to talk about our Master like that.”
“That gives me goosebumps,” Roxxi hugged herself and whispered, “Master.”
Owen tilted his head to look around Darlene’s hip. He could only see the crossed legs of the cop. He frowned.
“Oh, Officer Mulhaney’s on our side,” Tamara said, turning back from following Owen’s gaze.
“Darlene,” Owen said, a weight lifted from his shoulders and he felt much better turning back to Darlene. “I forgive you for Janny. I’m glad you’re mine.”
“You do? You are?” Darlene said. She tightened her arms around his neck. “I… was asked out, right before I came over to the coffee shop. I turned him down.”
“Good,” Owen said. “I don’t share.”
“Good,” Darlene said, repeating but not agreeing. Darlene held tight. Owen felt Roxxi pulling down the bedclothes.
“Roxxi?” Owen asked.
“It’s OK, we can see you’re frustrated,” Tamara said. “Roxxi just wants to help out.”
After the drug-sleep and infusions and IVs. Owen had to pee. Sleep through that and you get a boner. He was thinking about asking for help out of bed and to the washroom. He still had tubes in his arm and one under his nostrils. He’d probably have to ask the nurse and…
Roxxi’s mouth fitted onto Owen’s cock with a sloppy loud gulch. Owen tried to sink back but Darlene hugged his face into her titties. He just closed his eyes. It was impossible to push Janice out of his mind though. Roxxi licked and twisted and slurped. Darlene pulled her blouse open and almost lifted her bra to feed Owen a nipple. That attention would absolutely help him get off.
“Oh my god!” The squealing voice and sharp intake of breath could only have come from Owen’s mom.
“Mom!” Owen shouted into Darlene’s chest. Darlene’s skin blushed down to Owen’s nose and she froze.
“Roxxi, let go. You’re just making Owen and his mother uncomfortable,” Tamara said. Owen could feel the blankets being pulled back across his displaced hospital gown. Darlene hurried and buttoned her top. “Hi, Mrs MacKay. Sorry, we got excited that your son is doing better.”
“I’m…” Shannon took a deep breath. “I was not ready to see that. There’s three of you.”
“Owen’s a very special man,” Tamara said, her voice cooked with pride.
“I was hoping he would take after Raymond and not Dad,” Shannon said. “Owen, is your girlfriend presentable.”
“Girlfriend?” Darlene mouthed silently.
“Yes, Mom,” Owen said. “Here, let me introduce you to Darlene and Roxxi.”
“Darlene Cork, ma’am,” Darlene turned around and frowned.
“Rosalyn Marsters,” Roxxi said. She ran over and hugged Owen’s mom who recoiled from the first touch. She managed to hug Roxxi back after a moment.
“Rosalyn’s such a pretty name,” Shannon said. She looked up and down the teenager. She was clearly unimpressed by the electric blue hair and abundance of piercings: ear, eyebrow, lip, and assumed. She’d also seen the girl sucking her son’s cock. The worst part about raising boys is they ended up thinking like boys.
“Mom!” Owen said, as his mother turned back to him. “I am so sorry. I had no idea I had any chance of getting Janny hurt. I wouldn’t’ve done any of this if I could—”
“You inflicted trouble on Janice?” Shannon interrupted her son. She sounded exhausted and disbelieving. “She didn’t have a hand in this at all? It wasn’t her cafe you borrowed and locked down? Owen, I know you’re worried, I’m terrified, but Janice is a big girl and there’s no way she did anything because of you.”
“I’m the one who fucked up about Janice!” Darlene said.
“Shut up,” Shannon said to Darlene. “I don’t care. I know Janny and I know my son. This is their fuck up. You’re just too self involved to know better.”
“Did you know about Grandpa’s coins?” Owen asked.
“Only that I wasn’t allowed to touch them,” Shannon said. “That’s the only time he ever spanked me. I was eight, and nine, and ten, and eleven, and twenty...”
“Mom, I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” Owen said. “I want to set things right, and I don’t think I can. Not the way I wanted to.”
“Your arm is never going to work right again,” Shannon said. “Some fuck ups go all the way down. You have to live with it. You have to handle it. You have to own up to it. That’s the kind of man your dad is. Go to him for advice.”
“I need a lawyer,” Owen said. “I… I didn’t do anything illegal.”
“Yeah,” Shannon brushed her hair back. She looked over the girls. “Not illegal, but immoral?”
“It was the first time in my life I could be this immoral,” Owen said. “I had to try it.”
“Just like Dad,” Shannon sighed. “You’re getting rid of the coins? You think they’re why you could be so—” Roxxi wilted under Shannon’s gaze. Tamara blossomed. Shannon turned to Darlene, but the waitress was still wracked with guilt that she didn’t respond. “You think the coins let you do this?”
“It’s a lot of money,” Owen said.
“If I find out any of you are gold digging my son,” Shannon turned around. “There won’t be enough provinces in Canada to bury all your pieces.”
“There’s only 10,” Tamara said. “Unless you count the territories, and still, like 13 pieces? Those could be pretty big. It’d be a bigger threat if you did it with the states. That’d be like 52, right?”
“Fifty,” Darlene corrected.
‘Yeah, yeah, and Hawaii and Alaska,” Tamara nodded. Owen frowned at her.
“My son’s hurt enough,” Shannon said, sneering at Tamara. She used to really like this girl. When Tamara and Owen were high school sweethearts, Shannon dreamed of them getting married and having dozens of rugrats. They went to different colleges. And Tamara had grown up into a woman not good enough for Shannon’s boy. “Do not hurt his heart further.”
“Whatever he wants of me,” Darlene said. “I’ll do it for him.”
Shannon couldn’t believe the teenage slut was the only girl worth liking. She almost wished Owen had more girls to choose from.
“Bonsoir, Owen!” Natasha entered the hospital room with a rap on the door frame. Hafnan came behind her. They were both followed by a tall scarecrow looking man in his late 50s. “Papa wanted you to meet M. Lawyerstein.”
“It’s a joke, the girl didn’t get it,” the man smiled. “Language barrier perhaps. My name is Clayton Lauberstein. I’ve been hired to represent you by M. leCarre.”
“What?” Owen asked.
“Hello,” Shannon said. “I’m Owen’s mother. Who are all of you?”
“You have a very interesting son, madame,” Natasha said, smiling brightly for Shannon.
“Bonjour,” Hafnan said, quietly.
“I’m a lawyer, hired on behalf of Investissements LeCarre,” Lauberstein smiled for Shannon. “Your son is in a bit of trouble, due to the unfortunate and terrifying anger of Kirk Marcusson. My benefactor, Miss Natasha LeCarre’s father,” Lauberstein presented Natasha and Shannon suffered the handshake with little grace, “believes his insistence on such a dangerous man means that helping your son to be the best course of action for himself, for Owen, and for their business.’
Our business? Owen thought. It was not over. Owen didn’t have any plays yet. In truth, Owen felt the best course of action now was to tell Maxim to stick it up his ass and focus on what Owen did have. Who he did have. Owen wasn’t going to sell the coins.
“For his own self interest,” Shannon calculated.
“Um, Mr MacKay?” Mulhaney ducked his head in the door. “Do you still need a lawyer? Geraldine said she was at your beck and call.”
“Excuse me?” Mr Lauberstein asked. “I’m on retainer. I can work with counsel if you’ve already committed or I can back away, as you prefer.”
“Who do you work for Mr Lauberstein?” Shannon had out her phone. “And who’s Geraldine? Officer… Mulhaney.” Shannon said, walking up to the policeman to read his name off of his uniform.
Natasha slipped over to Owen. Hafnan came over.
“I own you,” Owen said. “Because of Hafnan, but…”
“Excusez-moi?” Natasha asked. She looked at Hafnan.
“I bought Hafnan and her enemy with the coin,” Owen said, at a low whisper. Natasha had to hug him close to hear him. “You’ve been a terrible boss to the girl.”
“Maitresse, non! Elle est…” Hafnan shook her head wildly and stopped talking so she could figure out the English words. Natasha sighed, kissed Owen on the cheek and stood up.
The knock on the door interrupted Shannon checking out Clayton Lauberstein and Geraldine Mulhaney’s credentials on her phone. The lawyer seemed very patient. The cop was freaked out and checking repeatedly over at Owen.
“Hello,” the nurse stuck her head in the room. “Your… niece? Janice Lahey is out of surgery,” the nurse said. “The doctor is talking to her parents and your husband right now.”
“Oh my god!” Darlene erupted. “Tell me I didn’t wish her to death!”
“Janice’s OK? Alive?” Roxxi asked on a scratchy throat.
“She’ll… I should let the doctor deliver the news,” the nurse said. “Mrs MacKay? You’re family, I can walk you over.”
“Don’t talk to my son until I’ve talked to my husband, Mr Lauberstein,” Shannon said. “He’s loopy from the drugs, but I suspect we’ll want you to represent him.”
“Of course,” Lauberstein said. “I’ll head down to the cafeteria for a coffee. You have my number when you’re ready.”
“Yes, thank you,” Shannon said. “Lead on…” she stepped forward and read the nurse’s nametag. “Amanda.”
“Follow me,” the nurse said. The room emptied except for Tamara, Natasha, and Hafnan. Though Darlene and Roxxi stopped in the hallway, knowing they would be stopped from seeing Janice.
Tamara walked over and pulled aside Owen’s blankets and robes again.
“You’re a slut,” Natasha said.
“It doesn’t have to be me, slut.” Tamara smiled darkly at Natasha, she looked at Owen. “Do you want to try out one of your new whores?”
“Whores?” Hafnan worried.
“I prefer…” Owen didn’t say sex slave. Mulhaney may have been his creature but he didn’t know what would happen if the man had to testify. Owen chose not to clearly state the game in the cop’s earshot. He frowned. “You’re not a whore, Hafnan.”
“Thank you,” Hafnan said. She still eyed his dick with trepidation.
“Suck him,” Natasha said, pushing Hafnan by the shoulder.
“Perhaps this is why Owen owns you now too,” Tamara smirked at Natasha.
“He owns me because I pissed off Carlos,” Natasha countered.
“What?” Owen said.
He was then shocked when Hafnan reached out and took his cock in her hand. She decided on two hands and began stroking him.
“I’ve never had a real problem with Maitresse… With Natasha,” Hafnan said. “She never thought that because I was cleaning her bedroom that I could be used there.” Hafnan’s grip was hard, her jaw was tight. She moved her shoulders harder. “Thank you for letting me, not telling me. I could walk out of the room right now.”
Owen decided not to say, “I’d stop you.” He didn’t have to. He could give her a little bit of a leash. He crossed his arms behind his head, but one arm didn’t go and the cast wasn’t comfortable. He put his hands back down at his sides. He smiled at Natasha. He had backup if Hafnan quit.
“I hate your father, Natasha,” Hafnan said. “He kept my father and mother and little brothers from starving and then reminded me every time he was in the Memphis Estate.”
“You hate Maxim?” Owen said. He breathed heavily and happily. “I can’t believe I’m so lucky! I can’t believe—”
“Oh my!” Nurse Amanda’s squeal shocked Hafnan who let go of Owen’s cock. Tamara quickly covered the unfinished erection with the blanket.
“I am so sorry,” the nurse said. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen something like that. I just didn’t expect it with the cop and the other girls… I’m sorry.”
“What is it?” Owen asked. “And I should be apologizing. Seeing that isn’t in your job description.”
“It’s not,” Nurse Amanda said. “Thank you for understanding. I’ll stop delaying. Mr Brett Anderson, your friend, had a massive stroke. We were unable to save him.”
“Shit!” Owen said. So lucky. His arm didn’t work. He had no idea what had happened to Janice. Could he handle what happened to Brett and Janice on his conscience? He believed he could manage, if only Janny was OK.
“Thank you, we’re sorry again,” Tamara said, walking the nurse back out of the room. She smiled as she walked back to Owen.
“Why are you smiling?” Owen asked.
“Well, now Lizzie’s all yours,” Tamara said, “That’s a good thing.”
“Or she’s more broken inside,” Owen said.
“The blonde?” Natasha asked and received an affirmative. “She’s much stronger than you think. I like her.”
“Good,” Owen said. “I hope.”
“And the other thing is,” Tamara said. “Maybe you have another coin left after all.”
“I don’t even know who Brett’s enemy was,” Owen said.
The three women stared at him like he was a complete idiot. He frowned and blamed the drugs. Tamara saw Owen’s struggle.
“You, you rich as fuck idiot,” Tamara said and hugged him.
“Owen…” the knock knock at the door ended his hug with Tamara. He looked over to see his ashen-faced parents.
“Janice?” Owen feared.
“It’s…” Shannon broke into tears and Raymond hugged her.
“She’ll live,” Raymond said. “But it’s not good.”
* * *