The man in front made a confirming grunt. “To the whore house for you then if you don’t shut up.”
My knees shook violently and hard sobs burst from my chest.
“Ah,” the one in front continued, “yes. Do that instead. Some might like it.”
Both men laughed, the sounds grating and taunting.
We slowed to a stop, and my head bowed as grief ate at me.
“Look at me. Look at me,” one of them demanded, and a hand grasped at my cheeks, forcing my face up. “One last time. You listen, bitch, okay? Cry if you want. Some like that, they will pay for that,” he said quickly, his voice still muffled. “You talk, you beg for help, they won’t want you. They don’t want a talking bitch. Got it?”
When my head shook, his free hand roughly cupped my sex, and I cried out, “Don’t touch me.”
“You talk . . . this will be used day and night, day and night, by anyone. You will be forced into a room to wait for the next man who pays for you. Got it? Got it?” he barked when I didn’t respond.
“Y-yes,” I said, trembling. A man who wasn’t Kyle was touching me, and it was crushing something inside me.
“Let’s go.” He released me quickly only to take my arm in his grasp.
I heard a door open, and I bit back a cry as we stepped through it. Wherever we were now made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The silence here was heavy, wrong.
“Three steps right . . . now,” the man at my arm said softly, but it still crashed through the weighted silence of the room and made me jump and trip over the first step.
No one laughed as the man brought me to an abrupt stop, and I wondered briefly where the second man was. Then I thought about the other girls still on the plane, and realized I didn’t want to know.
My heart raced and stomach swirled with disgust, fear, and horror as I wondered again how I had ended up here. But as I waited for something—anything—I stood completely still with my jaw clenched tight, determined not to let my emotions show.
The man holding me squeezed my arm and hissed a low reminder to stay quiet, but just as quickly his grasp loosened and he breathed, “Yes. Yes.”
I didn’t want to know what had made him excited. His words were making me lose my hold on my fragile composure.
His hold disappeared altogether, and suddenly his voice came from in front of me. “You do not move; you do not speak.”
I can barely breathe.
“Do not react,” he commanded urgently, but soft enough that I barely heard him.
My jaw shook and my breath came out in a hard rush at his words. I didn’t want to know what I wasn’t supposed to react to—his threat alone was more than enough to make me want to.
The thin material covering me was pushed from my body, and I fought against my zip ties to cover myself.
“Don’t,” he hissed. “They like you; do not mess it up now, bitch.”
“Ple—”
“Don’t!” He waited for a few beats before his fingers went to the back of my head, and I wanted to beg him to leave the blindfold alone.
I didn’t want to know.
I didn’t want to see.
The material fell away, and I blinked against the dim light in the room. It felt as harsh as the sun after being in pure darkness for so long. Once my eyes adjusted, I saw what my captor had been seeing, and a cry fell from my lips.
I was surrounded by dozens of one-way mirrors—each one taller than me, and just as wide. Every handful of seconds, a small, round light would turn on above one of them, only to turn off when another lit up. Then another. Then another. Faster and faster, like the lights were at war with each other.
Without realizing what I was doing until the grip on my arm tightened, I began quietly singing. All the lights stopped blinking, and another hiss came from the man beside me.
“Bitch,” he said on a breath, “stop.”
Just before I dropped my head and squeezed my eyes shut, a light to my left came on and didn’t turn off.
Chapter 3
Day 1 The Auction
Lucas
Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I waited for the auction to begin, but despite the fact that I couldn’t see any of the other bidders and they couldn’t see me, I kept a calm front of indifference.
I glanced around the box of a room I would stay in throughout the process and took note of everything. It was small, but clearly no expense had been spared. The chair was more comfortable than some beds I’d slept on, and I considered sleeping through the first few girls as I rubbed at my eyes.
No, I couldn’t. I knew if I fell asleep now I probably wouldn’t wake up until this entire thing was over, and then I wouldn’t have anything to show for a second round. My mentor told me it would be unacceptable if I came home empty-handed again, and frustrating him wasn’t something I could afford.
I changed the music channel in my room until I found one to settle on, then continued looking around the room. There was a mini-coffee station, a fridge filled with water and energy drinks, and a phone with a menu next to it, but I didn’t feel like I could eat now. On the other side of the room, closest to the window, were a basket of lotions and a jeweled box of Kleenex.
I rolled my eyes and drummed my fingers against the desk.
My phone chimed, and I glanced at a text from my mentor reminding me not to choose the first girl.
I nodded to myself and dropped my phone on the desk before resuming my anxious drumming. My fingers paused briefly when the door to the viewing room opened but continued as I reminded myself to be patient.
“The first girls are never worth it,” my mentor always told me. “They’re the ones the sellers know will bring in the most money, so they put them up first.”
I would wait.
I dropped my head into my other hand and rubbed at a headache forming from lack of sleep. I was starting to think about that coffee maker again when the lights on my built-in desk screen went wild.
I straightened in the chair and watched in surprise for a few seconds as the bids poured in. Not once had they come in that fast during my visit six months before.
My head jerked up when the bid for her rose faster than expected, and my mouth slowly fell open.
Despite her small build, she stood tall and fearless, although I had no doubt she was anything but. I moved around my desk toward the window and let my eyes roam over her.
Her blonde hair was long, falling to her waist. Her legs were slender, and now that I was staring at them, I could see they were shaking. My gaze snapped up, and I noticed her jaw was too.
The man holding on to the girl released her to step in front of her, and although I had been turning to go back to my chair, I couldn’t move. I needed to see this girl.
The man pushed the robe from her body, and immediately the girl thrashed against whatever was binding her hands. Gone was the bravado; in its place was trembling and fear.
She looked to be in her mid-twenties—just a few years younger than me, as most of the girls here today would be—and so completely pure I had no doubts that every man here was drooling at the thought of having her.
I glanced away from her long enough to see rooms light up with bids. When I looked back, I wished I hadn’t. The blindfold was gone from her eyes, and now all I could do was stare at her face.
Her body bent and it looked like she cried out—and for some irrational reason, I wanted to go to her. I wanted to protect her from what she was seeing. And that was something I couldn’t allow to happen. Not there, not ever.
I forced myself to turn away from her and clenched my hands into fists over and over again as I went back to my chair.
I had seen dozens of faces from a room like the one I was in. Not one of them had pulled any kind of reaction from me. They weren’t supposed to.
“And she didn’t either,” I mumbled as I loosened my tie, trying to play it off as some side effect from my lack of sleep.
My eyes stayed focused on the sc
reen as bids continued to come in, so I saw the second they halted. I stared at the screen, confused. There hadn’t been two or three bidders going back and forth over her, and it hadn’t slowed to a stop. There had been at least ten or more men bidding . . . and then nothing.
Although I tried to keep myself from it, I glanced at the girl, then leaned over the desk to look more closely at her. Her full lips were moving slowly, methodically, and I felt my own tug up in response.
It took a few seconds before I understood, and then a low laugh built in my chest. “Are you singing during a bidding war?” I whispered to myself. “You are brave.”
As if being compelled by some force I refused to acknowledge, my fingers flew over the desk screen, and my blood pounded through my veins when I pressed the submit button. No one attempted to outbid me; I hadn’t thought they would. I’d offered double the last bid to shut the other bidders down before they could decide to start up again.
Looking at the brave girl in the viewing room, my face slid back into that practiced mask of indifference as I thought of how she would soon be broken.
Chapter 4
Day 1 with Girl
Lucas
I pulled on the cufflink at my left wrist as my mentor droned on over the phone ten minutes later. “Because there wasn’t a point in staying, like I told you before.” I let out a slow breath through my nose to calm myself when he scoffed, as if I was a kid who didn’t know any better. Before he could inform me of all the reasons to stay, I reminded him, “After everything I had to fix for you last night, I’m exhausted and ready to go home. I got what I came for; I’m leaving with a girl. There isn’t a reason to buy another.”
“You will grow bored with one.”
My jaw tensed in frustration. I doubted that. “There will be another group in six months. If you’re right, and that’s the case, then I’ll buy my second at that auction.”
Another scoff. “I wonder about you, Lucas, I do. I wonder about your ability to do what you’re supposed to. I think I put too much faith in you . . . I’m not sure you can do this.”
I narrowed my eyes at the fogged privacy glass in front of me. “Only an idiot would question the man he’s trained to pass as his shadow. Only a man with a death wish would question me.”
There were a few beats of silence before he said, “I will need to come inspect her.”
“Like hell you will,” I said with a surprised laugh. “That is not how any of us do this, don’t even attempt to deny that.”
“How dare you tell me what I will and will not—”
“Did your mentor ever once come to inspect any of your women?” I asked quietly. Dangerously. There was warning in my tone of what would happen if he went against the rules.
“This is different, things are expected of you. You are my protégé,” he yelled, and I laughed bitterly.
“Don’t deceive your old mind into believing that you’re someone greater than you are, with more power and holding than you have,” I sneered. “No. This is no different, and you are no different than the rest. You are a mentor—nothing more—and mentors do not visit or inspect. I will visit you with her when she is ready.”
“Lucas—”
“Trust that you trained me well, William, and remember that it was you who trained me. Mentor or not, do not cross me. You already know the consequences, since they came from your own mind.” I ended the call before he could say anything else and dropped my phone onto the seat next to me.
I’d just rested my head on the back of the seat when there was a light tap on the back window of the car.
My eyes shot open, and I raised my arm to glance at my watch before leaning over to roll down the window. It hadn’t been fifteen minutes since I’d finished buying the girl; she shouldn’t have been ready yet.
“Sir?”
“What?” I growled, and narrowed my eyes at the seller trying to get a glimpse into the car.
His eyes darted back to me, and he scrambled to grab something out of his pocket. “You purchased 48-1, yes?”
I only continued to glare at him. Considering we had talked just minutes after the purchase had been finalized, he and I both knew I had.
“Yes. Here. As requested.” He shoved an old, crumpled piece of paper into the car and jerked his arm away as soon as it was in my grasp.
I didn’t offer my thanks. I looked away in dismissal and waited until the window was back up before I allowed myself to read the scrawled notes about the girl.
Atlanta, Georgia.
Loner.
Only goes between work (restaurant – Glow) and home.
Dad only. Abusive.
Dad deals out of home.
Girl does not use.
Perfect!
There wasn’t anything to help me know more about the girl I’d just bought, but I had figured it was too much to hope for. The sellers’ jobs were to study girls, finding ones who fit a certain profile and would be easily forgotten from their old lives. Nothing more.
Once I’d read the few descriptions they’d given me on her enough times to memorize them, I balled the crinkled paper into my hand and let it fall to the floor of the car.
My mouth twitched into a grimace when I thought about the girl again, trembling and crying out. The initial reaction she’d forced from me—the one to go to her and protect her—rushed to the surface and was quickly met with old memories.
Not the same, I told myself harshly as I rested my head on the back of the seat again. Not the same.
“Mr. Holt?”
I slowly cracked open my eyes and immediately noticed that the privacy window was down.
“Mr. Holt?”
I tensed when I realized the voice was coming from next to me and the back door was open. When I tilted my head enough to notice the driver standing there, I relaxed. I straightened in the seat as I cleared my throat and fixed my tie, though it was fine. “What?”
“They’re coming with her—I thought I should warn you. You aren’t going to be happy.”
I stopped trying to fix my tie. “Why?”
My driver looked nervous to deliver the news, as if he was worried about my reaction. But I was already getting frustrated with the way he hesitated and scrambled for words. “They said she was screaming . . .” He looked at me uneasily when I stilled.
“You have exactly three seconds to tell me what happened if you want to keep your life and your job.” My voice was deceptively even, but it still had the desired effect.
I wasn’t to be ignored. Ever.
I watched the man turn into a scared kid. He swallowed thickly and his face paled.
“Yes, Mr. Holt. They uh, they said she was fighting them and she was uncontrollable.”
“What happened?” I demanded harshly, each word clipped.
“They knocked her out; s-she’s still unconscious. I’m sorry, Mr. Holt, I—”
“Move,” I ordered, and barely waited until he was out of my way before I got out of the car. “How did you find out?”
“One of the men came to tell us.”
I nodded, accepting his answer. I shrugged out of my jacket and threw it into the car, then shoved my hands into my pants pockets as I stared at the building ahead. My body vibrated as I resisted the urge to pace. “Knocked her out how?”
“Some drug, he didn’t say what.”
A growl built in my chest and cut off abruptly when a few men exited the building, one of them carrying the girl. She looked lifeless.
Barely concealed rage pounded through me by the time they reached us, and I gently took the girl from the man’s arms. I studied her chest until I saw it rise and fall a few times, then I let out a slow, relieved breath.
“You bought a wild one,” the man who handed her over said.
“She was uncontrollable, huh?” I tried to make my tone light but knew I didn’t succeed.
“She’s been trouble since we took her,” another man responded. “All the others stayed silent, this bitch wouldn’t
shut up.”
All three men laughed. My driver and I joined in, but my driver shot me a nervous look when I turned to put the girl in the backseat of the car.
He was worried. He was smart to be.
I paused from straightening out of the car and glanced over my shoulder when one of the men behind me said, “I had to drug this bitch constantly just to keep her quiet. Surprised anyone wanted her.”
“Surprised she’s still alive,” another said with a laugh.
“Surprised you are,” I added coolly. I wrapped my hand around the handle of one of the guns I had hidden below the seat and took aim when I turned around.
The three men began yelling and backing up, but I just spoke calmly over them. “We don’t ask in this business, right?” I didn’t wait for them to answer. “You don’t ask what I do; I won’t ask what you do. You don’t judge me; I won’t judge you. But you just harmed something that now belongs to me. I did not pay all that money for you to bring me an unconscious girl or for you to decide what happens to her when she acts out. Do we understand each other?”
The men were still slowly backing up, hands now raised, and murmuring their agreements and apologies.
“Next time I won’t be so forgiving,” I warned, dropping the arm holding the gun.
The men exhaled roughly, and one even laughed nervously.
The same man who had bragged about drugging the girl joked weakly, “My life just flashed before my eyes.”
“Why would I kill you?” I mused darkly. “She’s still breathing.”
And there are rules . . .
Before he could react, I lifted my arm and fired once, hitting him in the knee.
Chapter 5
Blackbird
Briar
I rolled over in bed, lifting my hands above my head to stretch, but paused when my body ached in protest.
Why do I hurt?
I tested out my muscles slowly, starting with my arms and working down to my legs. The entire time I tried to remember what I had done to be aching so much and when our bed had ever felt this incredible.
I absentmindedly ran my fingers over the cool sheets as I went through what had happened yesterday, but I couldn’t seem to get a grasp on it. Everything was foggy and just out of my reach. I would get glimpses before they drifted off. Something about Kyle and phone calls in the kitchen. Work and worrying about someone . . . someone . . .