Rogue’s POV
My dress was waiting for me in a box at my front door. It was a beautiful black piece with a mock neck that stopped just beyond the knees. After taking a shower and slipping it on, I figured that I couldn’t go to this fancy conference with my hair in a ponytail.
I begrudgingly pulled out my age-old curling wand and plugged it in. Once it had heated up, I set to work, curling my chocolate-colored hair into voluptuous waves. Once satisfied with my hair, I unplugged the wand and sprinkled on some makeup–nude eyeshadow, bright red lipstick, mascara, and some blush and highlighter.
After slipping on some black flats, I looked myself over in the small bathroom mirror. I smiled to myself, before grabbing my mom’s old black Kate Spade bag. I never brought it out, but tonight seemed like the perfect occasion. Inside was some mascara and lipstick (just in case), lady products (just in case), my phone, and my wallet.
He said he would pick me up at six (he didn’t want me to ruin my dress by biking there–wherever the conference was being held) so all I could do was wait. Once I heard a sharp honk outside of my RV, I hopped up from my cramped couch, picking my way through the mess that was my living room.
Once I was out and in the car with him, I looked over to see that same slow grin on his face that made my skin crawl.
“You look very nice, Rogue,” he drawled, rolling down his window and lighting a blunt.
“Thank you, Caden,” I said, fiddling with my purse as I watched us speed out of the trailer park. “Who are you looking into selling to him?”
Caden thought for a moment, rubbing the scruff on his greasy, pudgy face, before saying, “LeVonia. She’s been slacking lately. I think a new owner would do her well.”
It made me sick every time he talked about his girls like objects, but we had a deal. I would work double as long as he didn’t sell me. It was a bad deal either way, but Caden treated me better than I knew a lot of other owners did. Plus, he was very selective in who he rented me out to, so I never got bad people. If I got hurt, the feds would be on his tail.
I nodded slowly, going silent for a few moments. “She’s beautiful.”
I didn’t really have any attachments to any of the girls, since I was Caden’s right-hand woman. Though, as I helped him pick which ones to sell off, I always felt guilty. We lived in a bad world.
“We’re here,” the driver called to the back of the limo, slowing the a stop. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid to Caden’s side, climbing out after him. The place was huge, beautiful mansion-like house with lots of windows and twinkling lights shining through them. I allowed myself to gape at it for a moment before following Caden, who put his arm around my waist, making me stiffen.
He pulled me into the mansion, which was filled with serious-looking men in business suits and women in extravagant dresses. I felt underdressed. The stares I received, probably because of my age,made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up. Caden lede over to the snack table.
“I’m going to go find him. You, stay here. Make a few friends.” I nodded wordlessly, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I examined the food on the table. Most of which I couldn’t afford if I tried. I put a few finger foods onto a plate and took a seat off to the side, trying not to make a mess.
I was way out of my element, an RV park girl at a gala-like convention. I sat with myles crossed, the slit that reached mid-thigh standing up showing more than i would’ve liked. Once I noticed a man staring, I pulled some extra fabric so my skin was covered. I didn’t like this.
“Hello, there.” A semi-deep, oddly sexy voice startled me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see a guy my age with dirty blond hair, gelled to the peak, standing beside me. He was dressed in a traditional tuxedo, a rose peeking out of the pocket of his coat, smiling down at me. I had to admit, he was hot.
“Um, hi,” I said, offering a small smile while glancing around for Caden. Right now, he was my safety. While that wasn’t very reassuring, he had that sense of familiarity in a place like this. The teenager offered a hand down to me.
“Care to dance?”
Realistic Fiction
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