Sammi takes her usual place next to Hayato. I've always suspected there was something romantic between them, but they hide it well. As I approach the island, Dresden meets my eyes and shakes his head slightly. I raise my eyebrows in question and he looks down at his hands.
"We need to discuss this charity event for next Saturday," Vlad says, refusing to look directly at me.
"Okay, what's the plan?" I lean forward to rest my elbows on the island.
I'm situated between Jax and Blake, careful not to touch either of them by accident, trying to ignore the energy emanating from Blake.
Caleb gives me a tight smile, while Miranda looks like she wants to rip my head off my shoulders. Her cheeks are blood red, her eyes glossy and full of contempt. Vlad straightens himself and I bring my gaze back to his face.
He's the protection specialist, which is what we need for this. This isn't an intelligence mission. The sole purpose is to allow Blake to attend this stupid event and make sure no one tries to kill him while he's there.
"Sammi and Hayato will be in a communications area close to the main location. We'll be going in later this week to set up security cameras of our own while Sammi taps into the ones already in place by the owner."
Sammi smiles. She loves breaking into other people's security systems.
"Jax, Rhett, Dresden, and I will be inside the building keeping an eye on things. It won't be suspicious for Mason to have personal security. Not when the threats on his life have been publicized."
"I'll be staying in the car in case we need to make a quick escape," Jameson chimes in quietly.
"So, that just leaves Lily," Jax says meeting my gaze.
Everyone's staring at me. Talk about uncomfortable. "What about me? Why are you all looking at me like that?"
"We need you to go undercover with Mason, Lily . . . as his date."
"Um, no," I say, standing up straight. I don't risk looking at Blake. My eyes stay locked on Jax and his pleading gaze. "No, Jax. I'm not dressing up and waltzing around some stupid ball. Isn't it enough I follow him around all day as it is?"
"We know, Lily, but we need someone close to him at all times. There'll be over a thousand people at this thing," Vlad says. At least he has the decency to sound ashamed of even posing this as an option.
"Jax, I can't." I let the desperation saturate my voice.
Posing as Blake's date means wearing an evening gown— which means showing my scars. I can't do that. The team has never seen my scars. Plus, this means he'll have to touch me and something says it’ll be more than just my hands. It's impossible— considering the physical reaction I have . . . and being in front of a thousand people. In the ring, shaking to the point of seizure is normal, but at something like this, people are bound to notice.
"Lily, come talk to me," Jax says moving a few feet away from the table. I'm well aware of every eye following us.
"Jax, please," I beg in a whisper, looking down at my hands.
"I know, Lily. I'm not any happier with this than you are— trust me. I'll make sure the dress covers your back entirely, and I'll warn Mason about keeping his hands to himself. Please, Lily, we need you to do this." He places his finger under my chin, sending a wave of tremors through my body, and gently forces me to look him in the eyes.
"Jax . . . "
He holds my gaze until I roll my eyes.
"Thank you, Lily," he says louder for the others to hear.
He walks back to the island and the others gaze at me waiting for me to join them. Fuck this. I turn on my heel and practically run back to my room.
"What's her fucking deal?" Miranda sneers as I open my bedroom door, slamming it shut behind me.
I knew this flirtation bullshit was going to bite me in the ass.
My heart pounds in my ears at the mere thought of dresses and dancing. I walk out to the balcony and grip the railing. The wind's calmer now and barely tosses my hair.
Give the man a chance.
No. I shake myself. I was eight the last time I trusted a man. I'll never forget what that got me.
†††
I barricade myself in my room all day Saturday and Sunday. The first three days of the work week are hell. Blake tries to talk to me about the charity event, but I don’t say anything. Only two days left, and I'm thankful he decides to work from home for the rest of the week. This way, I can avoid him and try to rebuild some of the barriers I need for Saturday.
I've spent the last two hours standing on the living room balcony. Everyone else is still sleeping and my nerves are in overdrive. This charity ball is the last thing I want to do. Why can't we go hunt down some scumbags or something? Anything other than this.
Okay, yes, Blake's good looking and sweet. I'm attracted to him, which makes no sense. I've never been attracted to anyone before and I've spent the better part of the last three weeks trying to ignore it . . . unsuccessfully.
Even if there's something between us, when this case is over we'll be reassigned, and I'll probably never see him again. There's no point in trying to make something out of what can never be. I've had enough pain in my life.
I force my fingers through my hair, taking deep breaths. Walking into the kitchen quietly and flicking the light over the oven on, I scan the counters, spying the Keurig machine. I stare at it, trying to figure out why the hell there are so many buttons.
"You have to put one of the K-cups in the top," Blake says, making me jump.
"Put a what, where?"
"Here, let me show you." He grabs a small cup from a little holder, opens the top of the Keurig, slides it in and slams the top shut. Opening the cabinet to the left, he stretches to reach a mug on the top shelf.
Dear god,
I shake my head. He glances toward me, smiling as he catches me staring. He pulls the mug down and sets it under the spout.
"How strong do like your coffee?" He smirks.
"Uh, as strong as you can get it."
He presses two buttons and the machine kicks on, a stream of steaming coffee filling the cup. Blake taps a beat on the counter waiting for the coffee to finish. I scan him, taking in this very uncharacteristic version. He's wearing baggy sweatpants that hang loose on his hips, hinting at tone muscles. His chest muscles strain the tank top undershirt he's wearing in a really enticing way . . .
He hands me the mug and walks to the fridge. "Would you like something to eat?"
"Uh . . . you cook?"
"I do, very well I'm told."
"Sure, I guess."
"Sit down. How's eggs and bacon sound?"
"Fine." I slide onto one of the stools and watch him as he moves around the kitchen.
He's graceful for a person his size. I stare, transfixed as he scrambles eggs and puts bacon on. I pull my eyes to the balcony, staring at the lightening sky. This must be how normal people spend their days.
"Here ya go." Blake sets a plate in front of me.
"Thanks," I mutter, picking up my fork.
We eat in silence. I haven't had anything in days and Blake's a good cook. The eggs are delicious and the bacon is perfect. I lay my fork on the empty plate, draining my coffee cup. He stands, picking up my stuff before I can protest and sets it in the sink.
"When was the last time you ate?"
"That's really none of your business."
"I'm making it my business. How long?"
"I don’t know, four days…maybe five."
"Five days?" The disbelief oozes in his words. "I understand this is hard for you, but . . . please eat. Don't starve yourself while you're living here."
His concern throws me. Not the anger I expected. "Okay."
"Do you have something to wear for the ball?" He leans casually against the counter.
"Uh, no. Jax and I discussed it, and I'll go out this afternoon to get something."
"I'll get you something." He pushes off the counter and sits on the stool next to me.
"That isn't necessary. I'll take care of it."
"L
ily, you're only going to this because I am. Please let me."
"With a few conditions," I say, my hands trembling.
"Okay."
"Long sleeves. It has to cover my shoulders and back. I don't do the skimpy dress thing. Got it?"
"Yeah." He nods his head.
I stand and place my coffee mug in the sink and walk past him toward my room. I need some distance. Saturday is going to suck major ass.
"Hey, Lily?"
"Yes?" I stop at the bottom of the stairs and turn to face him.
"Why does it have to cover everything?"
I shake my head. "It just does."
†††
"Put her on the phone." Blake's voice travels into the hallway as I pass his office. "Hey, Nina. What's going on, sweetheart?" His voice is soft and coaxing, as if he's talking to a wounded animal or something.
I step quietly into his office, standing against the door frame. He's looking more like his usual self this afternoon— white button down shirt, hair in purposeful disarray. I'm certain he's wearing dress slacks. I look around his office.
It's not what I expected. On the left wall he's got a very large and detailed world map with red, blue, and orange pins stuck in various locations. Next to the map are two freestanding cork boards, each one littered with pictures of girls— all ages and races, scraps with different information scrawled on them.
Missing persons' boards.
I glance over, meeting his deep eyes. I'm rooted in place, unable to look away.
"Nina, listen to me. You’re none of those things . . . No, just because you have scars doesn't mean— Listen to me, Nina. You're beautiful; do you understand me? Scars or not. You need to heal, both inside and out. This isn't going to be a one-day thing."
My hands shake and I tear my eyes away from his.
"Nina, don't be afraid to call me when you need to talk, hon, that's why I'm here."
I stare at the cork boards, scanning the faces of all the missing girls. He'll never find most of them. It's noble he's trying, but the sad truth is most of these girls will die and their bodies will never be recovered. Their families will never know. They'll never have peace.
"Many of these girls have been missing for years," he says.
He steps next to me, too close. I shift to the left, putting more distance between us. He shakes his head slightly.
"You realize you'll never find most of them."
"That doesn't mean I'll stop trying. No one should be given up on regardless of the odds."
I nod, glancing to his face. He's staring at me, eyes darkening with a slight glint in them."What?"
His eyebrows shoot up. "You don't like being looked at do you?"
"I'm not used to it. In my world, when men stare at you . . . they aren't usually thinking nice things."
"Well, you shouldn't assume you know what I'm thinking."
"What are you thinking?" I turn toward him fully, slipping my fingers into my pockets.
"I was wondering why you're so . . . closed off."
I grin, remembering one of our earlier conversations. "Unhappy circumstances."
"Fair enough," he says, chuckling.
"Are you planning on leaving the apartment today?"
"Yes. Jax is sending Dresden, Vlad, and Rhett with me, I believe."
"Good. Follow orders and don't piss anyone off."
He laughs. "Yes, ma'am."
I grin, despite myself. "Have a good day, Mr. Mason." I turn and walk toward the door.
"Lily!"
I turn back around, placing one hand on the door frame.
"I'm looking forward to Saturday." He winks and that strange surge of nerves runs through me again.
I wish I could say the same.
12
~Lily~
Tonight's the night. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fear courses through my body waiting for my dress to arrive. Shaking, I pull a bathrobe from the hook on the door, slipping my arms in and tying it around my waist. I go into the bedroom, and sit on the edge of the bed, placing my head in my hands.
I don't want to do this. I can't do this.
The bedroom door opens with a slight creak.
"Lily?" Blake enters and the door clicks shut behind him.
I look up meeting his eyes. He's holding a long white garment bag and a medium size shopping bag.
"Yes?"
"Here's your dress, shoes, and some other things to wear." He leans over to lay everything next me.
"Thank you." My voice is shaky as I twist my fingers together, sweat sticking to my palms.
"Listen, Jax gave me the third degree about tonight. I think I finally understand how impossible this is for you and I'm sorry. I wish I understood why, but I'll try to make tonight as easy as I can."
His eyes meet mine, and he nods slightly. The door closes quietly as he leaves. I stand, my legs like Jell-O beneath me, and pick up the garment bag. I have no idea what Jax said to him earlier. His demeanor worries me. Blake usually bounces between cocky and sweet romantic, but tonight he seems to be all self-conscious and nerves.
I slide the zipper down the bag, and pull the side open, revealing a long navy blue dress. Removing it from the bag, I smile. It has a square cut neckline with long sleeves.
No scars will be showing tonight.
I would take a hundred auctions over this. At least I know what to expect from the people there. Tonight . . . it's like jumping, covered in blood, into a shark tank. I don't know anything about Blake's lifestyle or the people he mingles with other than Miranda and Caleb, and I can't anticipate how they'll react or what they'll do.
My stomach heaves and I barely make it to the bathroom.
God help me.
†††
My makeup's light with the only color coming from the shimmery blue eyeliner, matching my irises. My lashes look longer from the mascara, but I pass on the blush. I've thrown up several times while trying to get ready, so my cheeks are red enough without help. My lips shimmer with clear gloss, and my hair frames my face, falling over my shoulders past my breasts.
The dress is snug. Every curve I have shows, and I keep double-checking to make sure I'm actually wearing a dress. The only downfall is the slit that goes from the bottom of the dress to my hip on the right side.
Thankfully the slit isn’t on the other side. Tiny, burned crosses scar my left leg, from hip to knee. These are my scars though. I put them there. Fifty-three in all. They're the constant reminder of my life on the auction block . . . of why I am the way I am.
I sit on the edge of the bed, and pick up the largest box, removing the shoes Blake bought. They're black pumps, simple yet elegant, with a shimmery gem in the center of the toe. I slide them on and find them surprisingly comfortable. I've only worn heels once, so I pray I don't fall and bust my ass tonight.
Inside the bag are three smaller boxes. I open the largest of them and gasp. My fingers trail over the beautiful black onyx and white gold choker. With shaky fingers, I remove it and clasp it around my neck, letting it rest against the chain from my keepsake necklace hidden inside my dress. The next box is a matching bracelet that jingles as I clasp it around my left wrist. In the last and smallest box is a set of large onyx stud earrings, weighing down my lobes, but they're so beautiful.
I don't even look like me anymore . . . I almost look . . . normal.
The bedroom door clicks as it opens and I walk into the main area, coming face-to-face with Sammi. She stares at me with wide eyes, breaking into a sincere smile I've never seen before.
"You look stunning, Lily."
I smile, looking down at the floor. No one's ever said that to me before.
"Thanks," I mumble.
"Don't look down. Have a little pride, girl. You're beautiful. The guys are going to drool."
My face falls, and my breathing increases. I don't want that reaction.
"What's wrong?" She takes a hesitant step toward me.
"I'm out of my league, Sammi. Th
is isn't an auction. I don't know how to act around these people."
"Relax. Just be yourself."
She opens the bedroom door and steps into the hallway waiting for me. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and exhale, opening them again. It's now or never. All the worries are prominent in my mind, and more than anything, I want to run back to my room and lock the door.
Sammi and I stop at the bottom of the stairs. She clears her throat, and I keep my eyes on the floor. My hands shake, and everyone will notice my nervousness. I try to still my body, but it ignores me. A hand comes into view, pressing a light touch under my chin. I shake harder.
"Look at me," Blake says quietly, tilting my head up.
My eyes meet his, my breath catching in my throat.
His eyes are . . . beautiful.
He drops his hand back to his side and turns, letting my team get a full view of my newest look. I scan each of their faces, my eyes locking on Jax. He looks pissed, glancing from me to Blake and back.
"Well?"
Jax’s eyes soften as he walks over, and gently takes my shaking hands into his steady ones. "You look beautiful, Lily. You always do, with or without the expensive clothes."
My face heats and I'm sure my cheeks are a deep red.
I give Jax my sly grin and he gives me a full megawatt smile. Taking a deep breath, I turn to Blake, trying to ignore the wide-eyed stares from my fellow team members.
"Let's get this over with before I change my mind."
He saunters next to me, and holds his arm out for me to take. Nervously, I stare at his arm. My hands shake again as I place one in the crook of his elbow. Tonight's going to be hell on my nerves. I don't drink much, but I might make an exception at this point.
Blake leads us to the elevator, and I try to steady my breathing as we move down to the lobby of the building. I glance up at him, and he smirks down at me.
"I think you're going to make several men swoon tonight, Lily," he whispers.
I open my mouth to retort just as the elevator doors widen. My smart-ass reply is lost as we step into the lobby amidst a throng of photographers and journalist.
The Auction Block Page 7