Billie and Brandon: Untamed

13

Warning: In this chapter there will be mentions of abuse, violence etc. I have gone pretty vulgar just for the stories sake, so please don't hesitate to skip if it is a sensitive subject to you:) Love you all.

____________________________

When Billie was on the cusp of womanhood, she and Zoe had watched a procession of whores being herded and marched over to the mayor's mansion for a town council meeting. They had traveled from the saloon through the streets of the town and all the way out north where the mayor's mansion was located. Each woman, dressed provocatively, walked regally, heads held high as the town folk stood on each side of the street, jeering and shouting profanities and insulting every single one of the women.

It was a shaming process. A way to tear down the confidence of the women and remind them that they were nothing in their town as long as they remained tethered to their debts.

She and Zoe had been told not to ever participate in the dastardly mocking with the other townsfolk by Mara. She had told them to always respect these women, because they had been dealt a rough hand in life and the fact that they were still standing, even through it all, was plenty enough reason to respect them. A profession did not make a person, Mara had said. The younger Billie had written off Mara's words, not particularly caring, but also not interested in shouting at the women. Indifference was pretty much the only thing she felt. She had vaguely wondered why they couldn't just leave if their lives were so hard at the saloon. She hadn't known any better back then.

If someone had told the younger Billie that years from then she would end up dressed like them-hair curled wantonly, face caked with provocative makeup, lips bright and demanding attention, sultry and tight black dress barely covering her tits, and unbelievably high heeled boots on her feet-waiting in an abandoned stable to join said procession into the mayor's mansion, she would have laughed in their face.

But here she was.

And standing, watching the horizon for them to arrive from inside the door of the stable, Billie suddenly felt wholly exposed and nervous and ashamed of herself, and she was only standing in front of two men. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like for those women who had to make that trip time after time after time and endure the hatred and caustic sassing and mockery from all the people in town. She vaguely wondered if perhaps one time...she'd seen her mother but never known...

Her fists clenched.

"Does your uh...does your horse bite people?" Ezra asked nervously, watching Nightlock warily as the horse bucked and snorted at him. "You okay, Billie?"

"A little nervous. But ready as I'll ever be, I suppose" She nodded, finally turning away from the lantern illuminated night and facing him.

"For the record, you look like a whore, if that makes you feel any better."

Billie's face pinched, and she gave Ezra an incredulous look, "Not really..."

"That was supposed to be a compliment!" He quickly clarified, realising what he had said. "Your disguise is really good. I almost didn't recognise you when you rode up."

"In that case, thank you."

Billie felt pin pricks against her neck and goosebumps rising on the exposed skin on her body. She sighed and turned around, feeling Brandon was watching her. He was casually leaning against the wall, chewing on the end of a blade of wheat, eyes resting on her. She couldn't tell what expression he was wearing on his face.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Billie said, her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. She still had a very vivid memory of the kiss he had given her, and it was making it harder to look him in the eye. Why the hell had he kissed her?