21
It didn’t seem like we had driven very far when we screeched to a halt. The back door opened up and three men stood there, staring at me with guns drawn.
“She’s a little skinny,” said one of them, rubbing his chin.
“And kind of young,” said another.
“Doesn’t matter. She’ll do,” said the third with a merciless grin.
The men were all tall, dark, and very dangerous-looking. They were dressed in expensive clothing and one of them, a big brute of a man, had rings adorning almost every finger. They kind of reminded me of mafia, if there really was such a thing.
“Tony says we’ll draw more audience if we use women. This is just a slip of a girl, though. The last one we used was stacked and they seem to like that better. I’m not sure about this one.”
“She’s a looker, though; you know what
