Studenstein (Love-Bots, Book Two) by Daisy Harris Page A

“There’s one right there. Don’t let Jake give you a hard time or charge you extra.” She looked Shani up and down.
    Closer to civilization, the lifers had wanted to believe Shani’s story about a couple of steins traveling alone. But no one in these lawless parts would buy it. The heavyset guy behind her leaned closer. Shani felt to her marrow that he was getting ready to proposition her. “Thanks.” She nodded at the girl and mentally repeated the directions in her head.
    Ignoring the whistles of the guys in the parking lot, Shani returned to the van and climbed into the cab next to Royce. He leaned back in his seat, his body relaxed and a hand draped along the open window. But his eyes kept darting around. Lines tensed between his eyebrows.
    “You holding up?” She started the van and pulled onto the street.
    “Yeah…” He shifted in his seat. A rueful grimace tilted his lips. Royce adjusted his cock, through maybe he was just trying to rub the ache. “It’s not so bad.”
    “There’s a place up the road. They have a two-hour rate.” The price didn’t matter, but she felt the need to warn him about what type of place they were going to. When his clients took him to a hotel, it was probably four-star, not a roadside shithole.
    “Doesn’t matter to me, baby.”
    She was positive he was doing that on purpose, making his words drip like syrup. Rolling his neck, and his muscles, and his long limbs so he looked like a wet dream.
    “It should be right up there.” Shani turned onto the side street the girl had described. The motel was worse than she thought—a rusted monstrosity of lined-up doublewides. A broken sign flashed tiredly, only three letters still working. It read Wankin’ Steins . Shani realized why the place looked so familiar. Royce may never have worked in a dive like this, but Shani had a million times.
    “Funny name.” Royce reached for the door handle before she stopped the car. “And kinda fitting, huh?”
    Shani’s breath rushed out, her heart beating as if it would burst right out of her chest. It was all she could do to hit the brakes before dots of light and darkness filled her vision.
    “What the hell, Shan?”
    She held up a hand to stop him before he said anything to make it worse. “Don’t make light of this shit. You know what this place was?”
    He peered up at the sign and then around the parking lot to the various corners of the hotel. “Oh!” He cleared his throat, deepened his voice. “You think this was a brothel?” He backpedaled, hands up in surrender. “The type of place they had before… I mean—things were worse when you…” He shook his head. “You know what I mean, right?”
    “Don’t kid yourself,” she spat. “The new guidelines have improved things for love-bots, but there are plenty of places like this still in operation.” Panic fluttered in her chest and she made a harsh connection. “Oh, if they’re still working slaves in this place…” Her hands fisted, furious tears springing to her eyes. Her mind spun, thinking about how they might find a horde of girls, or boys, stashed in some dirty back room…
    “Hey!” Royce snatched up her hand and squeezed it. “Shani, you okay?” He rubbed her arm, but Shani had a hard time focusing. In her head, Shani scrolled through all the places like this she and Frank had busted. All the empty-eyed, half-dead steins they’d found.
    The place Frank had found her flashed in her memory—clear as a horror film. She’d been locked in that motel room for months, covered in her own blood and other peoples’. The dirty handprints on her skin—she hadn’t known which were from the people she’d eaten and which were from the men who fucked her.
    “Shaniqua!” Royce’s firm voice cut through the haze of her panic. “You have no reason to think they’re still housing slaves here.” He spoke slow, clear, every word a hammer through her armor. He stroked her arm, pushing up her sleeve to find