Having a dysfunctional family, all he's ever known is your bare skin against his in the cold night and the way men would come and take what they wanted. His father with that grimey smirk on his face at the stacks of money he'd get, it always made him shiver with disgust.

But the cycle, it couldn't be broken down here in the dumps, not if we wanted to survive..

"Sis, where's the rest of it?" Lane is older now, brain mostly developed and taking over father's role— selling you off, it helps that this industry is so lively, that the men are so horny and lonely around here.

He threw the stack on the chipped coffee table, his hand wrapped around your arm to pull you down. "You can't steal some, it's rent money. You wanna live, don't cha, sis?" He sighed, taking the remaining dollars you hid in your bra.

His gaze met yours, only to notice something off.

"Did he hit you?" His fingers brushed against your cheekbone, his jaw ticked, you knew he was pissed. His father always joked, hands off the merchandise, and while he tries not to be the same, no one goes for a bruised up girl.

"You're supposed to call for me when there's trouble, r'member?" Lane lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him. He's trying not to be a douche here, you know that. Your blood is tryna care for us, his job won't let him have anymore hours.

"I guess it's time for a bodily inspection if yer gonna be stubborn, sis..."