Gambling Debts 2/?
Chapter 2
The way down the stairs felt longer and at the same time way shorter than usual. Derek wondered when, if, he would walk these stairs again. He doubted it would be any time soon. One-hundred thousand dollars weren't worked off in a few days no matter what he did.
He felt sick to the stomach at the thought of what he would have to do to work his uncle's debt off.
In his mind he pictured this Mr. Stilinski as an old man, bald and fat, and he shuddered, thinking of having sex with some rich, old stranger. Because that was what this was about, he wasn't dumb, he knew that he was just a cheap whore in this.
Vincent and Jules walked behind him, tasers still in hand as if they expected him to make a run for it. They weren't werewolves, they didn't know. If Derek ran, he would lose his pack and become an omega. He would rather be dead. Or let his uncle pimp him out to a stranger.
They reached the street and there was no guessing which car they would use. The sleek black car looked as out of place as Vincent and Jules in this part of Vegas.
"Get in." Jules took Derek's bag and held the back door open for him. He shut the door behind Derek but neither Vincent nor Jules got in the car. They opened the trunk to store his bag and Derek couldn't see them any longer but he could hear them just fine.
"What the fuck?" Vincent asked.
"Don't ask me."
"Is Stiles completely nuts now?" Vincent continued. "What is he thinking? Taking this guy for payment? Illegal is the least problem with this. Have you seen his face? He's terrified. And rightfully, so."
"And he's a werewolf and can probably hear you." Jules hissed but Vincent just continued with his rant.
"What the fuck are we doing here?" He asked. "If Stiles wants some he should go to that club he's so fond of."
"You don't know what he's going to do with him." Jules said but he didn't sound convinced.
"Stiles just bought him, that's so many levels of wrong."
"And he's waiting for us." Jules closed the trunk and started walking over to the driver's door. "C'mon, Isaac, let's go."
Vincent, or Isaac, muttered something under his breath but then he opened the door in the back and slid in next to Derek. He held the taser awkwardly in his hand.
"Sorry, man." He gave him an apologizing smile. "We have to be careful."
Derek got that. He was a werewolf and they were human. Even with the tasers chances were good that he could overpower them if he really wanted to. Which he didn't but he doubted that telling them so would put them to ease.
Jules, Derek still hadn't caught his real name, started the engine and then they were moving.
"Where are we going?" Derek dared to ask.
"The Red." Isaac answered. "Stiles, I mean, Mr. Stilinski is waiting for us there."
Stiles didn't sound like an old man. It sounded like a nickname and if his employees addressed him like that he probably wasn't that much older than them. Maybe Derek's age. Not that that made the idea of being that man's sex toy any more appealing.
"Look." Isaac shifted in his seat to a face Derek. "Our order is to pick you up and bring you to our boss. But you're a werewolf and if you happened to open the door and jump out, there wouldn't be much we could do about it, right? By the time Boyd has stopped the car you could be gone." He made a vague gesture.
"Isaac." Jules, Boyd, warned him but he did slow down the car. They were slow enough that Derek could jump out without breaking every bone in his body. If he wanted to.
"Thank you." Derek said, staring straight ahead with meant at the back of Boyd's head. "But if you show up without me your boss will get back to Peter to get his money and Peter will …" He couldn't finish the sentence. They were human, there was no way they could ever understand what it meant to disobey a direct order of your alpha and what the threat of throwing him out of the pack alone did to him. No, whatever this Mr. Stilinski had in store for him, it couldn't be worse than losing his pack.
Over the rear view mirror Derek met the driver's gaze and without a word the man brought the car back to normal driving speed.
"You're stupid, man." Isaac said and slumped deeper into his seat. "But I swear I'm going to have a word with Stiles about this."
"Not just you." Boyd muttered.
They fell silent again.
"This Mr. Stilinski." Derek shifted in his seat. "What is he like?"
"Easy going." Isaac answered promptly. "He's a good guy, we went to school together. I've no idea what possessed him to make this deal." His faced darkened and Boyd gave an affirmative nod. "But I swear, this is not like him."
It gave Derek a little hope that this wasn't going to be as bad as it sounded.
Boyd parked the car in the parking lot under the Red Riding Hood, right next to the elevator. Then they rode up to the penthouse.
Derek was really glad that the two men weren't werewolves because he was probably reeking of anxiety and fear which he tried to hide behind a stoic mask.
The doors opened to a luxury suite and Derek was suddenly very aware of his thrift store clothes and scuffed boots.
"He'll be here in a minute." Isaac said and gestured for Derek to have a seat in one of the armchairs in front of a giant fireplace. Derek gave the cream leather a skeptical look and remained standing. He didn't want to give a bad first impression by ruining an expensive chair.
Isaac just shrugged and flopped down on a couch. Boyd gave him a look and remained at Derek's side. More to give the impression that he was actually guarding their … whatever Derek was to them, than anything else, he guessed.
An awkward minute later the elevator pinged again and Isaac was on his feet before the doors slid open. Which earned him an amused gaze from Boyd but when the man who must be Stiles Stilinski stepped out of the car, they both sobered up.
"What the fuck, Stiles?" Isaac greeted him. The man had to be Isaac's age but he looked even younger. He didn't look old enough to enter his own casino if Derek was honest. He was dressed in a black suit and a blood red dress shirt which he hadn't buttoned up all the way.
He didn't seem to be fazed by his employees rude greeting, though.
"Isaac, Boyd." He gave them a broad smile. "Thanks for bringing our guest here."
Derek suppressed a snort at that. The last term he would use to describe his role in this was guest.
At least Isaac seemed to share his opinion and opened his mouth to argue but his boss was quicker.
"If you'd leave us alone now, I have something to discuss with Mr. Hale here." He had his hands clasped behind his back and was rocking on the balls of his feet, waiting for his men to follow his order.
For a moment it looked like Isaac still wanted to argue but Boyd just grabbed him by his sleeve and dragged him towards the elevator.
However, when he passed his boss, Boyd hissed at him: "I swear if you …"
"Just a little chat." Stiles cut him off and the look he gave him said clearly that this was the end of this. Defeated Boyd and Isaac left.
Once they were alone, Mr. Stilinski made an inviting gesture towards the chairs again.
"Please." He said when Derek hesitated. Derek sat down on the edge of his chair but it seemed to satisfy the other man.
"So, you're here to do whatever I want until your uncle's debt is paid." Mr. Stilinski rubbed his hands and got more comfortable in his chair. Derek couldn't help but wonder if he was about to start working off the debt right now. He didn't look at the man's crotch.
"Does ten grand a minute sound fair?" Mr. Stilinski asked.
"What?"
"You do what I want for ten minutes and then you can go." He looked very pleased with himself. Then his smile grew even wider. "Let's make it eleven minutes and you walk out of here with ten grand. You can start a new life if you want. I highly recommend that you don't go back to your uncle. This might have given him ideas."
His heart-beat was steady so he was either telling the truth or he was a really good liar, Derek wasn't sure which. The idea of starting a new life was laughable but if he managed to get out of here in a few minutes, he would take it.
"What do you want me to do for eleven minutes?" He wasn't stupid enough to just agree to anything. Not that he actually had a choice.
"Listen to my offer."
That he could do. Derek gave him a nod to continue. Now Mr. Stilinski leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
"I want you to stay." And there it was. Derek's stomach dropped.
"But …" Mr. Stilinski continued, his hands moving in wide gestures. "You know … on your own terms."
Derek raised an eyebrow at him and waited for an explanation. He didn't have to wait long.
"See, this city is a shark tank." He said. "You show any kind of weakness and they rip you apart. My age alone makes me look weak and letting you go, let's say it doesn't do me any favors."
"Why would you do it, then?" Derek wondered.
"Because slavery is wrong?" His whole body flailed with that statement.
"Then, why did you agree to this deal in the first place?" It didn't make sense.
Mr. Stilinski locked eyes with him and for the first time he looked serious.
"Your uncle needs money, like, desperately." He said with a hint of steel in his voice. "And you're the only thing he has left that he can sell. If I hadn't agreed to this, somebody else would have."
Derek swallowed thickly. So far this man had been nothing but honest with him, with a body language like this Derek wasn't even sure if Mr. Stilinski was even capable of lying, and he was right. If Peter wanted to sell him, he would find a buyer.
"What exactly do you want from me?" Derek asked the big question. He had nothing to offer except for what he had thought he had been brought here in the first place. But it didn't look like Mr. Stilinski wanted that from him.
"Like I said, stay. As my guest." He leaned back in his chair and made an inviting gesture over the suite. "Get some sleep, eat some food, you look like you need it."
Which was true but Derek didn't intent to tell him that.
"I guess, I'm offering you a job here, if you want it." Mr. Stilinski warmed up to the topic.
"You're willing to forget the one-hundred thousand dollars and give me a job instead? That's a lot to offer." Derek didn't mention that he already had three jobs. Not that he really cared about any of them. Maybe the one at Casino Solutions but otherwise? Not so much. "What do you expect in exchange?"
"Don't worry about the money, I have more than I can ever spend." He waved it off as if he couldn't care less about money. Which was most likely true. "What I don't have, is a reputation. But with the deal I made with your uncle …" With a wink he aimed a finger pistol at Derek.
"You want them to think that I'm what?" Derek glared at him. "Your sex slave?"
The man ignored the death glare directed at him.
"I live alone in the penthouse." He dropped his voice as if he was about to share a secret with him. "Nobody will ever know what's happening when it's just the two of us. Or better, what's not happening. You don't have to do anything, just stay here. The rumors will do the rest."
Chapter 3
Masterpost