Ryan tensed, his eyes traveling up the stairs anxiously. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Jack pulled his withering glare off Mason. "I was about to explain about that, son."
"I'm listening, unless your explanation has anything to do with me not getting my prize."
Jack looked insulted. "I'm a man of my word. The girl is yours." He paused when Mason made a sound of disgust. Jack waved Ryan over to the periphery of the large hallway for a private word. He put his hand on Ryan's shoulder as he spoke. "Here's the thing. This girl's no ordinary whore. You're a lucky man to win her. As you might be able to guess from Mason's reaction, half the men in Chicago would give their left nut to be in your shoes at this moment."
"So?" Ryan prompted tersely. He grew more and more impatient with Jack's machinations. After Mason's near slip, Ryan was now 99 percent sure the woman upstairs was Hope. His desperation to see her pushed at him like a shove from the inside, making him want to forego the role he'd played unwillingly here tonight and rush up the stairs. A quick survey of the large foyer and the front door, however, had already told him that Jack's henchmen abounded.
A man wearing a black hat guarded the front door, taking the admittance fees of latecomers. A blond man stood like a sentinel at the foot of the stairs, a pistol shoved into his pants in clear sight for all potential troublemakers to see. Ryan would wager there'd be at least one more guard upstairs in order to control any situations that occurred while the prostitutes entertained the Sweet Lash's guests.
Escaping Jack's brutal, efficiently run brothel wasn't going to be easy. It'd be one thing if he was alone, but getting Hope out safely might require some finesse. Charging up the stairs and raising a ruckus as he searched room after room was likely only going to result in getting them both killed.
If only his gun hadn't been stolen.
"So I just want you to realize how fortunate you are," Jack answered with a hard look.
"You'll have that girl, just like I promised. But there are some extenuating circumstances."
"Such as?"
"Well, first of all, these men here"—he nodded at Mason and the three sleek gentlemen—"will want to witness the event. Along with myself, of course. It's not every day one gets the opportunity to see something of this caliber."
"No."
Jack's eyebrows went up in genuine amazement at Ryan's simple, firm statement.
"There was nothing like that in the agreement. I want her to myself," Ryan added.
Jack removed his hand from Ryan's shoulder, forgoing the facade of a friendly chat. "You really don't have any choice in the matter, son. I need a man for the part. If you don't want the girl, I'll just turn her over to Mario. He'll recover from his beating soon enough."
Ryan's nostrils flared in anger but he said nothing.
"You get the point now, I see. Best to just go along with the program, son. The young lady must be kept restrained during her initiation. If you release her before the deed is done, I'll be severely displeased. You will also be required to use some .. . implements: a whip, a crop, a flogger. In addition to sodomy, these are the things that make the Sweet Lash so popular, you see. The more scandalous the goings-on in that bed, the better. I have my friends to consider. For the price they've paid to watch, I won't be the only one who's highly displeased if you don't perform up to standards."
"I thought you said she was a virgin," Ryan muttered through teeth clenched in fury.
"She is, she is. You can see why my gentlemen friends are so eager to witness the event.
The truth be told, she's a minister's daughter!" Jack laughed as if he'd just told the punch line to a joke. His humor faded quickly when he noticed Ryan's expression. "Haven't got much of a sense of humor, have you, boy?"
"Just take me to her," Ryan muttered, sick to the point of nausea from conversing with Jack. Nothing mattered more at that moment than seeing Hope, He'd have to figure out the rest when he fully understood the landscape.
"There's one other thing, son. One of my men will be photographing the .. . event. For posterity's sake," Jack added with a slashing grin.
Ryan went entirely still. Jack must have misunderstood his rigid, shocked expression.
"Don't worry. My photographer knows his instructions. He never photographs the details of the man's face; just the back of him and the ... crucial body parts."
Jack took a wary step back when Ryan closed in on him. "You want the photographs to blackmail someone, am I right?"
Jack's clamping jaws loosened around his cigar. "I don't suppose it hurts if you know it.
You're correct."
"A fiance? A father?" Ryan prodded. Much to his rising dismay, he already knew the answer, however.
Jack merely shrugged.