Read The Token (#10): Shepard for Free Online

vagina.”
    I sense the disgust coming off her in waves.
    “I would never put anything in me for anyone.”
    My lips curl. “If they threatened your family, perhaps?”
    “I don't have a family,” she admits in a low voice.
    Ah. We are finally getting somewhere.
    She tilts her head. “Is it because I can speak French?”
    “That must be part of it. However, all mules will transport, kill, and sex the clients. They must also know the etiquette and languages of the men they will serve in any of those capacities.”
    “I—I'm not the right girl for that.”
    I chuckle. She appears to be exactly the right girl. La famille does not choose randomly.
    “This isn't funny. You killed this guy who was sent to kidnap me. And you're telling me they were going to groom me to be this multilingual badass assassin chick who carries drugs and screws whoever? Here? In America. Pfft .” Her fingers spread against her chest, and my eyes linger on the pulse that thrums in the hollow of her throat.
    A place I always wanted to kiss on a woman and could never allow myself to. Too tender.
    I force my glance away at a street sign, see the one that marks her street, and use it. I find a stall and turn the engine off.
    The ticking of the motor cooling is like clinking ice inside shared cocktails.
    I do not wish to alarm her but to warn. It is a fine line. “I am troubled about the American component.”
    Her hand falls on the door handle. “What do you mean?”
    “When I was part of la famille , we took girls who would not be missed, in countries that were blind to such practices.”
    Marissa lifts the edge of the blindfold, sees that we are inside her parking area, and tosses the dark cloth at me. Golden curls with the barest kink cascade around her shoulders and down her back.
    I have never fucked a blond, I muse indifferently. Or an American. I find I very much want to. The novelty appeals.
    I catch the blindfold easily, the corners of my lips twitching with my thoughts.
    “Nice reflexes.”
    I shrug. Sometimes my speed has been all that saved me from death.
    “You say you took girls.”
    I nod, my chest tight, as my erotic thoughts instantly fade. So many girls.
    “So you're as bad as them?” Marissa manages to ask through her shock.
    I hesitate for a few seconds. “Yes.”
    “That's why you told me I was wise not to trust you.”
    I nod.
    I want what I cannot have.
    “You kidnapped girls and used them?” Her expression is sickened, and I deserve every bit of what I see in her face.
    “I did. But I was called a trainer—or some would call me a Handler. I taught the girls how to behave with clients—delegates. How to eat, handle themselves. Fuck.” My tongue clucks on the last word like a hollow drop hitting a full bucket of water.
    Marissa flinches. “What else?” She finally whispers the question.
    “Languages. Four different tongues needed to be mastered.”
    She shivers in revulsion.
    “There must be a demand for cherries from this country,” I say, mostly to myself.
    “Cherries? You mean—are you referring to hymens ?” Marissa asks, outrage flooding her voice.
    “ Oui . You are a cherry, Marissa.”
    She does not confirm my statement. “ Pluck, ” she says slowly. “That's why that jackass said it was his ʻpluck.ʼ”
    I don't answer.
    Her hand lifts the door handle. “Are you still—with them?” she asks softly, her voice strained.
    I shake my head. “I am free.”
    Was free.
    “Doesn't really sound like you are. That name you have—Shepard? Does that mean you watch the flock of girls or something?”
    “It did. But I always understood that was not really representative of who I was.” The next part hurts to say, and I am surprised I can feel any kind of pain. “I did not protect the lambs.” My voice hovers above a whisper.
    “Oh.” Her eyes latch on to mine in the gloom of the car.
    Marissa slides out of the seat and bends inside the open door. The dome light stabs the soothing darkness