Embracing Fate: A Captive Hearts Novel Page 11

  She scanned the room and when her eyes met mine, she skipped over me to the next in line. We were all monsters here. That’s what her gaze said.

  But those eyes.

  They were like the stars themselves.

  I owned her. The bid was fixed. All the rest was simply an elaborate ruse.

  The music played and I resisted the urge to leap up and claim her as mine. There were protocols and procedures which kept my hand fixed to my seat. The most painful period in my life was watching her stand beside those whose lives were sold.

  She smiled, a weak and pathetic thing, but it was as if the heavens spoke to me. I decided then and there that I would do whatever it took to free her from the abomination of her fate. And while I could do nothing for the eleven others who shared the stage, I would ensure this degradation would never happen again.

  To do that, this beauty must bend to my will. If she didn’t, we would both be dead.

  Clara may not have been born to serve, but I wondered if she realized the power she held. The hesitation of her body as she took that stage called out to me and stirred darker urges.

  The need to claim and to take rose within me. Her defiance demanded it. I needed to dominate her and take what she wouldn’t give. My soul screamed at her to hide, to flee, to run away from a man like me.

  Mitzy’s screechy voice played in my head. C.L.A.R.A.

  The girl’s dark eyes, fathomless like the ocean, were mine. Her long, wavy auburn hair, smooth and silky, was mine. I would own every inch of this beauty. She turned to face me, not knowing I held her future in my hands, and her expression ghosted past me. Tears spilled down her cheeks as the bidding began.

  A tap.

  That’s all it took to escalate the price. Seven girls had already been dragged off stage. Clara stood before us as the number on the screen climbed.

  I watched the room as much as her. Her eyes widened as the bidding began at five-thousand. It didn’t stay there. A flurry of activity forced that number to ten thousand. It fluttered there for a time, rising in small increments. I had yet to place my bid, but scanned the room to see who dared challenge my right to this girl.

  Her fidgeting increased when the number hit fifty thousand, but it didn’t stay there long. Moving much more quickly, we jumped by sums of five thousand and more. When the number hit six digits, I joined the fray, doubling it immediately.

  Clara swayed on the stage and would have toppled if not for the strong-armed grip of the man standing there for precisely that purpose. Two hundred thousand became three hundred before the majority of the bidders dropped out, but there were still two persistent bastards ticking the price higher.

  I watched the room, trying to see who sought Clara. These would be men to watch, enemies I would have to settle with one way or another. At the four hundred thousand mark, a possessive rage built within me.

  Only one girl had fetched a sum higher, going to her fate for a hundred thousand shy of half a million. Clara’s price closed in on that number, ticking up in ten-thousand increments.

  I kept my hands on the armrests, rubbing my restless thumb over the button embedded in the armrest. Sitting in the second row gave me an advantage. I could survey the entire room, but couldn’t tell who bid against me.

  This was becoming tedious.

  When the number hit half a million, I acted, adding a hundred thousand. To my surprise, that number jumped to seven hundred thousand. I didn’t know who set their sights on Clara, but they would not take what belonged to me.

  I bumped the number to a million, a bold move which found Clara crumpling on stage. Tears ran down her face as her gaze jumped around the room. Then she turned to stare, not at us, but at the screen displaying the end of her freedom. The number didn’t budge.

  One million. An insane price to pay for anything, but well worth the reward. The screen flashed red.

  First warning.

  The number held steady. My competitor weighed his options and sized up the remaining girls.

  Second warning.

  The urge to lean forward nearly overwhelmed me, but I maintained my composure. None of these men would see me blink, and none would know Clara would be mine.

  The third and final flash on the screen sealed her fate.

  She was dragged off the stage, a shocked expression filled her face. I didn’t dare blink as the next girl came forward. As with Clara, the number on the screen began at five thousand and climbed from there.

  We didn’t know which of us had bid on which girl, or if one or more of us walked out of there with two girls or none. Maybe one of these bastards bought more than one girl. But in looking at the faces of the men as they were escorted out, a sense of satisfaction filled every face.

  One by one, we were led out of that room. Accounts would be settled before possession was transferred. As the last to arrive, I was also the last to be led outside.

  I waited my turn. A minute passed and then two, but then the door opened. I didn’t rise from my seat. He wasn’t here to lead me to Clara. No, we would have a different conversation.

  “Mr. Davenport,” the new arrival said, “an interesting night.”

  “It appears that way. You did very well, from the numbers I saw.”

  “Better than hoped for, but we could have made more. Giving this girl to you cuts into our bottom line.”

  “Doubtful. I pushed the bidding on several of the girls, that more than made up for it. But you already know this.”

  He arched a brow, confirming what I suspected. Our bids were anonymous only to us.

  “You will give me the names of the men who bid on my girl.” My demands came out with force and the man blinked at my audacity.

  “Bids are anonymous.”

  “Not in this case.” I needed to know who to keep an eye on. Not that they would know who Clara went to. I wouldn’t be taking her from this place tonight. Not on the back of my Harley.

  I had other plans.

  “You’re incredibly demanding, Mr. Davenport.”

  “I’m also saving your ass. Now, has everything been arranged?”

  “Per your instructions, although I’m surprised you aren’t eager to take her tonight.”

  “I know what I’m doing.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told, although I’m skeptical what you say is possible.”

  “You’d be surprised what’s possible with the proper motivation. Right now, her mind is conjuring a hundred horrible scenarios. I will not feed in to any of those. Deliver her as instructed. I’ll meet you on Monday.”

  “And your FBI friend?”

  I gave a smirk. “I will report my success and your very generous offer. I suggest you take this time to tie up loose ends, discover where your leak is, and prepare for what comes next.”

  I didn’t give a shit what he did.

  Chapter 13

  I’d been sold.

  My entire body trembled, and I felt like I would fall. My frayed nerves and that gnawing hunger, not for food, had returned. I needed a fix, and despite knowing what was going to happen next, all I could think about was the juice.

  Focus!

  They led me offstage.

  Weakness pulled at me. An insane, itchy, hunger boiled in my veins, distracting me. I had thought to steel my mind against the degradation to come, but the horror of my situation wasn’t something I could escape.

  Or the craving building inside of me.

  Peering out into the room, I tried to see the faces of the monsters who traded in human flesh, but the bright lights blinded me. Nothing but dark silhouettes stared back at me.

  Worse than the bidding was the final number reached. A man willing to pay such a sum…my mind refused to head in that direction.

  What was I to do?

  Be smart! The voice in my head screamed at me.

  I don’t know what that means.

  Taken to a small room, I was left with nothing but my thoughts. I didn’t know where the other girls were, but I suspe
cted we all waited for the unthinkable.

  To be taken.

  Did that mean I belonged to…? No. No. No. I refused to allow myself to believe this lie. No matter the sum, whether one dollar or a million, I belonged to no man. My freedom may have been sold to the highest bidder, but I belonged to no one.

  Would he rape me on sight? Or would he torment me first?

  Was the man violent?

  The bruises and the awkward bend of my pinky finger came from my captors. They didn’t think twice about inflicting pain.

  Would pain become my constant companion? Would I become a punching bag for a man who had no restraint? A cry escaped me as my heart slammed against my rib cage. What if he intended something much worse? I could survive rape, but what about mutilation or worse? What if he intended to kill me?

  How quickly did my end approach? I had heard of horrible things. Everyone has, stories of girls sold, raped, and…killed. Was that my fate?

  My lower lip quivered, and I felt sick to my stomach. My skin felt like it was moving, becoming desperate and hungry, craving a fix.

  What was taking so long?

  Where was my juice?

  Wrapping my arms around my body, I slid against the wall and huddled on the floor. I held myself and cried while I pressed my forehead against my knees. I needed to get this fear out of me. But, before I could put myself back together, I needed to fall completely, and utterly apart.

  I don’t know how long I rocked. Tears leaked out of my eyes. But eventually, the tears stopped. My wretched sobs slowed until I gave a final gasp. The rocking of my body stilled, and I sat in complete silence as I took stock of my new reality.

  I had been sold.

  I belonged to a monster, but I would never give him my mind. My body might not be something I controlled, but I could choose what happened next. I could meet him as his victim or as something else.

  Honestly, I didn’t have the strength for that, but I wouldn’t meet My Monster as a blubbering idiot. He would see me as a person and not a thing to be owned; this I vowed.

  My entire body ached as I took stock. Closing my eyes, a deep breath filled my lungs, where I held on to it, fed it pain, then breathed all of it out. Another breath surged into my lungs and I grounded myself in the moment, beginning with my toes. The hard floor chilled my feet and I allowed myself to experience every sensation.

  Another breath.

  My shins throbbed, splotches of purple marred the flawless skin.

  Another breath.

  The scrapes on my knees hurt, and scabs tightened the skin.

  Each breath brought awareness of a new part of my body. I traveled the path of bruising from my toes to my hips, across my belly and up to my chest. Down my arms, I focused my mind, cataloging each and every injury until I reached that pinky finger.

  No one had seen fit to straighten it, and I came to a decision. This was something I could control, or I could wait for the monster to decide whether I received care.

  With an odd, clinical detachment, I stared at my finger. I felt the knuckles and the odd angle. Doctors did this all the time. All I needed was to—snap!—a screech escaped me as my pinky straightened beneath the firmness of my grip.

  This was the new me. A girl who wasn’t afraid to do what was necessary. A ripple of pain flooded my body, but it felt good to have done something.

  My mind drifted after that, following the throbbing river of pain from my pinky finger all the way down to the cold, unyielding tile beneath my toes. How long were they going to keep me here?

  I think I fell asleep because the sound of the door opening jolted me awake. Two men came in. One paused at the door, blocking my escape, while the other approached with a needle in his hand.

  “You know he’s not taking her tonight.” The man with the needle glanced at the other.

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So…” a low chuckle escaped the first man. “So, we have her to ourselves…all night.”

  A wide grin spread across the pockmarked face of the man at the door. His hand ghosted down to the waistband of his jeans where his fingers picked at the button of his fly.

  I tried curling in on myself. Whatever these two planned wouldn’t be something I could escape, but maybe the man who bid on me would rescue me. Odd how I prayed for rescue from the man who bought me and intended the very same defilement.

  I didn’t know who he was, and yet already I sought his protection, but I knew one thing. He wouldn’t want these vile men to touch what now belonged to him.

  Right?

  But the man with the needle said my new owner wasn’t taking me tonight. Which left all night for…my eyes widened as the man at the door stepped inside, shut the door, and turned the lock. I scrabbled back into the corner as the men shared a depraved look.

  This was happening, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  “Wanna flip for firsts?” The man guarding the door crossed his massive arms over his chest.

  “You not a fan of sloppy seconds? She’s got more than one hole.”

  “I’m not sticking my dick in her mouth.”

  I scooted back into the corner, seeking what little protection the small room provided.

  None. There was no protection.

  “We can knock her out?”

  “Do you want to fuck a dead fish?” The man at the door bumped his chin at me. “I prefer them kicking.”

  Say something!

  But I couldn’t find my voice. I held my injured hand against my chest and listened to the mewling sounds issuing from my throat. Pitiful, I sounded weak and defeated.

  “Fine!” The man nearest me tossed the needle and syringe away from me.

  It rolled on the floor, rocking ever so slowly back and forth. Back and forth, I fixated on the syringe. It was better than facing what waited for me with the men.

  If he’d thrown that needle anywhere near me, I would’ve jabbed the thing in his neck. There would still be one of them to deal with, but I’d rather one of them rape me than both.

  “Please don’t.” I tried to inject strength into my voice, but it squeaked like a pitiful thing.

  “Baby doll, you play nice, you hear? John and I are just going to have a little fun.”

  I shook my head. “He won’t like it.”

  “Who?” Needle Man scrunched his brows.

  “The one who bought me.”

  I may not be strong enough to defend myself, but my new owner might be all I needed. Unfortunately, their grins widened. I was well beyond freaking out, and if they got any closer I would lose my shit completely.

  “He’s not going to give a shit, baby doll. I hear the one who bought you likes things rough. Consider this a practice run.”

  I screeched as he grabbed my ankle and dragged me out of the corner. My fingers clawed at the hard floor. My poor pinky finger throbbed as I tried to yank myself free.

  John reached into his pocket and pulled out a quarter. “Heads, you get pussy. Tails you take her in the ass.”

  “You going second after all?”

  “Yeah, let’s say I like to watch.” His gaze cut to mine. “You can scream all you want, sugar. No one is coming for you.”

  They showed no fear about what my new owner might do to them. I wish I shared a tenth of their confidence. Kicking and screaming, I managed to land one kick to Needle Man’s chin. A grunt escaped him and his grip around my ankle tightened.

  “You fucking cunt.” He yanked me to my back and struggled to lower the zipper of his fly. He turned to his friend. “You going to toss that coin? Or stare at me?”

  “I was just wondering about that ugly ass mole on your butt.”

  “Asshole. Flip the damn coin.” He leered at me. “I favor pussy over ass, but I bet you have a nice tight asshole. I bet you’re an ass virgin, aren’t you?”

  My skin revolted when the heat of his breath blew in my face. The fetid stench nearly made me black out. I wish I had.

  John leaned back against the do
or, a smug expression on his face. He tossed the coin into the air, and all three of us watched its trajectory as it rose in the air and crashed back to earth where it landed with a tiny clink and spun in a tight spiral.

  Needle Man grinned at me, watched the coin, then turned back with a look of victory on his face. “Pussy it is.”

  Something inside of me snapped. I screamed and kicked. My voice rose in a howl, but none of that would stop what came next. I was going to be raped.

  He leaned over me, violating my personal space, and the way he looked at me brought bile to the back of my throat. My heart tripped on a beat, losing its rhythm to the panic surging in my blood.

  I never knew how fine the line was which separated the sane from the insane, except to say I moved right past it. I stumbled far over that line, losing a piece of myself in the process.

  They wanted my pain. Hungered for my screams. And while I initially gave that to them, the moment Needle Man pushed the ivory gown up my legs my vocal cords gave out.

  A small voice inside of me said I needed to fight. To scream. But why? When no one would hear me? When no one would care? Fear choked me, but then that voice in my head told me all I needed was to survive. I could pick up the shattered pieces later.

  I couldn’t scream though. Although I wanted to. Part of me wished for some of the juice sitting not three feet from me. This would be easier if I could slide into oblivion with the prick of a needle.

  It’s just pain. You will survive this.

  I hated that voice. It wanted me to be strong when I was the weakest I’d ever been.

  The most alone.

  I wanted to give up. It would be easy. To give up. Right?

  No! Don’t ever give up!

  Needle Man’s rush to expose me ripped at the delicate fabric of the gown. He hesitated for a moment, but then tore at the seam. A loud tearing sound filled the room as my entire world narrowed in on that damn coin.

  Fear wrapped its clammy hands around me, constricting my chest, strangling my breath. My stomach buckled, and my throat slammed shut. I couldn’t breathe, but did I want to? I prayed for release from this moment, wishing I could black out and pretend this wasn’t happening.