Door was open, so I let myself in." Marco said.Marco was a fit young Italian guy from two doors down. He worked nights at Tops Bakery, making the next...day’s bread. His wife, a paralegal at Jimms, Tale & Wesseley. Marco was of average height, with a swimmer’s build. Black hair and blue eyes. Full firm lips. Sicilian.He was wearing black boots, tight bell-bottom jeans, and a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled high on his arms.'This guy looks like he just stepped off Ellis Island,' Braxton. Those first days of sheer horror might be two years in the past, but she continued to feel, each time her eyes opened to face yet another day of hopless captivity, the despair of her first seconds after stepping into that tiny cell. Her days were still devoted to forcing her mind to enter another world and leave this claustrophobic hell behind her, but the effort was growing harder each day her ordeal came that bit nearer the end. At the back of her mind was a growing fear that her last few. ." he said slowly, "I don't think Irma would care for that too much, ya know?" Excuse me?" Brad asked."Oh, Irma is kinda used to me having sex with a woman right at the start and then coasting for the rest of the evening until she's done." Oh really?" Brad said. It wasn't a question.Raul nodded. "I guess it's just more comfortable for her that way," he explained."So... while Irma takes the opportunity to make her way through most of the men here, you're watching and waiting on her to finish so. Behind Claude was another man, tall and hawk-nosed. He examined his surroundings almost with the air of one who is never pleased."It did look rather larger outside," he said nasally. "Are you certain you have enough room?"Claude smiled, and it was not a smile she had seen before. It was ... amiable, no hint of cruelty underneath."You've barely seen the rest, Henry. Relax."He sniffed dubiously, but then he spotted Renee."That's her?" he asked Claude."Yes." Hmph. A bit skinny, wouldn't you say?".