Mine

Tate - 10

Hiram shows us around his warehouse. This place has been established for quite some time by the looks of it, but he’s never mentioned it to me before.

“The place adjacent is where the girls live. You’re never to enter it. You own them. You don’t f**k them, you don’t entertain them. They are your property.”

Something in the way Hiram says property sets my temperament off, but I leave my face emotionless and nod. I’m a lot of things, but the way he talks about women just sets me off.

“Do I own them, or do you?” I seethe.

Hiram shoots me a sidelong glance before continuing on with his tour, deciding not to answer me. I’m only half listening as I think about the girls I purchased being in the building across the way. What is it like in there? Are they being treated right? Do they want to be here?

“This," Hiram says, gesturing to a long door tufted with what appears to be a leather material, "is where you will stay.”

The door's charcoal material complements its golden frame. The lights in here are a soft lowlight. Hiram scans a room key against a golden medallion that sits in the center of the door. In the center is an engraved T, diamonds fill the blank space.

Hiram holds his hand out, signaling that I should go in first. I eye Ian as I push the door open, walking into the open space. I’m not surprised that Hiram’s taken the liberty of making my room look like a s*x dungeon.

“What is this?”

“Your space,” Hiram says, pouring himself a drink from the drink cart in the corner.

“I didn’t ask for a space.”

“You did. When you raised that ticket you signed yourself to far more than an act of disobedience.”

“Disobedience?” I spit the words.

Hiram took a sip from his glass as he put his free hand into his pocket shrugging.

“Call it what you want, but I’m not stupid Tate. I know you saw the girls on the truck. What I don’t know is why these ones or why all of a sudden you’ve taken an interest in my domain of The Order.”

I stare at him blankly. I don’t even know why I’ve inserted myself in all of this, but nevertheless, I did, and until hearing the words being spoken out loud, I hadn’t realized just how much s**t I’ve gotten myself into.

“Well done, Tate. The Order respects your… style.” He almost whispers. His eyes are ablaze; a stark difference from his tone.

In Hiram’s eyes, I’ve gone over his head. I’ve wounded him. One of the first rules of being a Boneman is to never go against your fellow Bonemen. To never go over the heads of your brothers, or those above you. I’ve inadvertently done just that.

He finishes his drink and throws the glass onto the drink cart, making it clash against the other glasses there. I look away.

“I expect you here every day. I don’t care what business you have it comes after this.”

I clench my jaw.

“You chose it.” Hiram says, smirking before turning to Ian.

“Ian, you have a room down the hall.” He throws the card he used for my room along with another one onto the cart and exits.

“This is s**t,” I say.

Ian approaches the cart, picking up the cards, and giving all his attention to them.

“It’s got your face on it.” He says, holding it up.

“Yeah, I bet it does. I bet it logs every f*****g place I scan it.”

“Doesn’t matter how you feel about this, it is what it is. You have to be here. I’ll take care of our clients, move them to nights.”

I shake my head.

“What?”

“Call the studio and have them cancel the series.”

“Are you serious?” Ian about shits himself.

“I don’t have another choice. I hate it anyways. Tell our clients we’re sending Troy and Sal to do our bidding until further notice. Get them up to speed.”

“You’re not going to see them anymore?” He asks in dismay.

“Didn’t you hear Hiram? I’m to be here every day. When do people participate in places like this? At night. So I’m to be here 24/7.” I almost shout.

Ian nods, choosing to not argue any further as he hands me my card.

“I’ll get on it immediately.”