Taylor was the friendliest, perkiest, most generous person I’d ever met. Two of the bedrooms were occupied by unnaturally beautiful friends, Ivy and Quinn, both of whom oozed similar compassion and support. They were so kind that, at first, I was convinced they were insincere. My hackles went up, terrified that my naivety had lured me into a trap. I wondered how long it would be before the organ harvesters showed. But no. Instead, it was something far rarer. They were just really good people. Taylor, Ivy, and Quinn were escorts.
Except is was a trap. Within 24 hours they’ve recruited you to be an escort. It was just a pretty trap. Flies, honey, you know how it goes.
