Colour. Part 18

Morgan looked back at me, her eyes softening. She shook her head minutely and then turned back to her pimp. “Her name is...”

“Come here,” he ordered, his black eyes focused on me. “I want to see you up close.”

On shaky legs I crossed the floor. Rebecca snickered when I bumped my hip into a table. Thomas sighed.

“Rebecca, I’m sick of you. Leave the room.”

His words were apparently enough. Rebecca quickly made her way out like a frightened child, not sparing me another glance. Thomas’ grin returned.

“I don’t like it when my girls fight, and I don’t tolerate petty jealousies. Now, come here.”

I finally made it to him and forced myself to hold still as his soft hands ran through my hair. He fingered my bangs and rolled his eyes.

“I really don’t like bangs. You’ll have to pin them back.”

Finally having a chance to get a good look at him, I wasn’t impressed. He looked about thirty-five, and though he was tall, he was extraordinarily skinny,