Free Corruption by Sam Crescent, Jenika Snow Page A

way past the whores on the corner, the pimps waiting in their Cadillacs on the side of the street, and the drug deals that happened in the darkened shadows.
    Making her way past them all, her head downcast, and her focus on her feet, Kitty kept her hand in her purse. She had a bottle of pepper spray in there, as well as a pocket knife that probably wouldn’t do much harm, but would make an asshole coming after her think twice.
    God, what would her parents think if they a saw her now? As immigrants from Poland, they probably would have been disgusted that they’d worked so hard to come here, to give her a better life, just for her to turn it all to shit.
    But then they’d died, taken out of this world far too soon. She didn’t like thinking about it, of course, because they were all she had. Getting that phone call two years ago telling her that her parents had been killed in a drunk driving accident would haunt Kitty until she died. She knew that.
    She’d had friends growing up, kids from school, kids from the neighborhood where she’d lived, but that all changed when Kitty just up and left. She’d packed what she could, taken the money her parents had left her and all of her savings, and left everything behind. She couldn’t have dealt with it any other way, couldn’t deal with the memories that surrounded her. That was over a year ago and six thousand miles away.
    So here she was, stripping even though she didn’t really need to.
    She still had a bit of the money that her parents had left her, but it certainly wasn’t enough to live on. They hadn’t exactly been living the life of luxury, but they had been comfortable.
    She walked quicker, finally moving out of the real bad part of town. Kitty had tried looking for other work, had looked at waitressing, sales, anything else. But there was a apart of her, maybe a sick, demented part that liked that she was in danger constantly, that at any given moment she could die, or worse, be mutilated by a tweaked out junkie.
    Maybe a part of her longed for that rush of adrenaline that coursed through her veins every night, every time she looked at the men watching her, knowing that her life could be snuffed out, and she wouldn’t have done anything to stop it.
    This twisted part of Kitty just wanted to let go, to stop trying, because what was the point? She had no one in this world that loved her anymore. The friends she’d had years ago would look at her like a piece of trash…the same piece of trash she saw nightly on the street corners.
    She’d not only lost her parents that day, she’d lost a piece of herself, a piece of her humanity, her sanity, hell, her dignity.
    She was no one anymore, just a girl living each day at a time, not caring what happened, even though she should. She might tell herself being safe was right, the smart thing to do, but deep down, Kitty couldn’t have cared less. That’s how deep in the rabbit hole she really was, and she couldn’t see herself getting out.

    The club was dark, smoky; the sounds of moaning, grunts of pleasure, and whips flying through the air then slapping against skin filled Vic’s head. He was hard, needing to find some pussy to ease himself, and not caring what female he found that pleasure in.
    Corruption was a BDSM club, catering to clientele that liked their pleasure mixed with a good dose of dirty pain. He and the MC he was affiliated with owned the business. Like him, the members of the Lupine MC were made up of wolf shifters, bad motherfuckers that, if crossed, had no problem shifting into their animal forms and tearing a bastard’s throat out.
    This was the world they lived in, the life they led. It was eat or be eaten, and no fucking way was Vicious going to allow some prick to step all over him and what he’d worked for, worked toward.
    He checked out the girl in the center stage, the spotlight on her. Deacon, one of the Lupine MC members, and a sadistic sonofabitch, was beating the hell out of her. Blood