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don’t want you to do this.” But despite his words, his tone held resignation. “We can get the girls to safety once we’re inside the safe house. The problem is there’s a master key for the alarm system that is only released by Carlos’s fingerprint.”
    I watched him, waiting.
    “He won’t exactly be cooperative with us,” Tyler continued. “In fact, if all goes according to plan, he won’t even be there when we’re extracting the women. So there’s this—” He held up a small rectangular box, black plastic with a shiny metal strip on one side. “That has the capability to record not only the form of the fingerprint, but also the heat patterns. Using this we’ll be able to replicate it and unlock the system without his presence. You need to press his right thumbprint to the metal surface for five seconds. Without him noticing.”
    “Yeah.” An incredulous laugh escaped me. No blow job was good enough for Carlos to miss me taking his fingerprint with a device. I wondered if Tyler saw the irony, that he was using my body for his own purposes. I almost hoped he didn’t, since at least that way it would be accidental.
    Tyler paused as if biting his tongue.
    “There’s more,” I said.
    “You’ll need to get out. There are a few different ways this might play out, but no matter what he’ll suspect you had something to do with it.”
    I scoffed. “Carlos thinks of me like a dog. Animals can’t be informants.”
    He ignored me. “They’ll set you up with a new name, a new life, the whole bit. All you have to do is cut out when Carlos leaves for the drop. Just get the hell out of here and drive to the station. Zachary will be waiting for you.”
    That wasn’t the plan at all. The plan was to free the girls and then let Carlos do his worst. I had no doubts that it would be painful, nor did I have any doubts about how it would end. With the sweet release of death. I couldn’t tell Tyler that. He wouldn’t understand.
    “Okay,” I said. “Get his fingerprint. Get out when shit goes down. No problem.”
    He gave me a lopsided smile, heartbreaking with its hopefulness. “Just two more days, and then it will all be over.”
    An answering smile, more pathetic than anything, flickered on my face. Because I was desperate for the same thing, just not in the way Tyler was. The day I stopped being a whore was the day I died. And I really needed to dissuade him of the notion that everything would end with sunshine and roses. It would only make the inevitable let-down harder. So I used my best whore’s smile. The plastic-looking one. “Really? So you and your men are going to carry me off into the sunset, with not a single thank-you blowjob in sight?”
    His smile died a quick death.
    I was a little too exposed, a little too raw, but I couldn’t stop myself, couldn’t be strong anymore. “Or, wait, will I even see you again once I meet up with Zachary? Or are you going to be too busy with the operation to even say goodbye?”
    “God, Mia. Give me a little credit.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said, somehow immediately contrite. It was a practiced thing, apologies, demurring to a man, but in this case I meant it. He’d given me no indication not to trust him, not counting the bulge in his pants whenever he looked at me.
    “No, I’m sorry,” he said tightly. “I don’t deserve any credit. Let’s just get this over with.”
    He stalked from the room, all angry male pride. I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t look at his ass as he went. I didn’t lust after men’s bodies. They’d brought me way too much pain to ever make me want them, to desire them. But I could appreciate Tyler’s body in a remote kind of way. Like if I had to lie with a man—and women, we did have to—his wouldn’t be such a bad one to do it with. If a body had to hurt me, I wouldn’t mind as much if it were his.
    Only it seemed he didn’t want me. Not back then and not now. But it didn’t matter, because no matter what