“I own you. f**k who I want you to f**k and you do it smiling, or I sell your organs by the pound. You wanted a choice? You got one.”
Burke didn’t like hitting the girls. He enjoyed it, but he didn’t like it. The bruises made them less appealing, no matter where they were on their body. A tender purple boo-boo on a girl’s thigh didn’t change a man’s mind once her panties were off, but a crooked nose or a burst blood vessel in one of her eyes deterred repeat customers.
Establish control and reap the benefits. The girls who didn’t take to beatings, he drugged. Those who weren’t keen on the needle, he got his crew to r**e into submission. Once he’d broken the horses, he loved them or starved them. One thing Burke made sure of, his girls never got comfortable. Some boys liked to make one of
