The Auction Block

by Courtney Lynn Rose

  "Lily, no. It doesn't matter," Sammi, pleads.

  "What ring?" I take a step forward.

  "The Taurus," Jax says with finality.

  I sigh. "What do we know so far?" I gesture for us to move to the kitchen. We each take a spot around the island, Blake and Vlad staying on either side of me.

  "They're filling the pool. They'll auction off at least twenty girls, maybe more. You know how this works."

  Yes, I do.

  "Sammi, Dresden, thank you for trying, but this is my choice. Leave this alone guys, I know what I'm doing."

  Blake touches my arm and my insides tighten."Lily, what’re you thinking?"

  "She's thinking about getting her things ready. She has a job to do, Mr. Mason," Jax hisses.

  "Fuck you and her job." Blake slams his fist on the table.

  "Calm down," I say in a low voice. I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Jax, but this assignment comes first. I'm not going this time."

  I glance up and several mouths hang open.

  "What?" His eyes narrow, sweat beading on his forehead.

  "I said, no."

  "You're going to do what you're told."

  "My job is here. Now, if you'll excuse me."

  I stomp to my bedroom and slam the door. I need time to myself, time to think about what I just did. I've never told Jax no before. Sharp pains shoot through my chest, my lungs constricting. It's like I've betrayed him in some way. He's going to go to Hyde, and this time, I doubt I'll be able to talk my way out of it. Leaving Interpol wouldn't be such a big deal if I had something to fall back on, but I don't. I never went to school, never learned anything other than what Jax taught me.

  I lay on my bed for hours thinking of what to do. A soft knock brings me back to reality and I sit up, huffing. "Come in."

  "Lily?" Sammi pokes her head in my door.

  "What's up, Sammi?"

  "Can I see you in my office for a moment?"

  My eyebrows shoot up. She's tapping her foot rapidly and chewing the inside of her cheek.

  "Yeah, sure." I follow her quickly.

  Sammi ushers me inside her office, locking the door behind us. My eyes widen.

  Something's wrong . . . seriously wrong. "Sammi . . . you're starting to worry me."

  "I did some digging in the Interpol files for Mason," she says, hurrying to her desk. "I think you need to read this." She hands me a manila folder with the label Shannon Mason on the tab.

  I open the folder to a briefing.

  Department: International Affairs and Covert Operations/Human Trafficking Taskforce

  Agent: Edmond Bates/Hyde Monroe

  Subject: Shannon Mason

  Matter: On June 23, 2011, Mr. Blake Mason, of Baltimore, Maryland contacted us concerning the kidnapping of his younger sister, 19-year-old Shannon Mason. A man identifying himself as ‘The Procurer’ contacted him, demanding a ten million dollar ransom for Ms. Mason. He instructed that if the ransom were not met within twenty-four hours, he would sell Shannon Mason to a human trafficking ring. Upon our orders, Mr. Mason did not pay the ransom, and a team of agents tracked Shannon to the holding facility for the trafficking leaders. When we arrived at the location to extract Ms. Mason, the leaders and their captives were already gone.

  "Fuck me."

  Turning the page, I find a picture of Shannon from the year of this report. "She hasn't been found?" I meet Sammi's eyes.

  "No, but I did some digging into the ring Jax mentioned."

  "And?"

  "Come look," she says taking a seat at her computer. "I hacked the city cameras in the area of the auction. They've got twenty-seven girls, at least, but I ran face recognition using that picture."

  Sammi moves her mouse over the images, clicking rapidly. Slowly, the image of a dark haired, sullen girl enlarges on the screen. There's no mistaking her . . . it’s Shannon Mason— alive, and still in the ring.

  My blood boils. "Why weren't we given this case?" I flip through the papers again.

  "I don't know. Looks like Jax turned it down. We were finishing up in Moscow at the time," she says, venom in her voice.

  "We should've been told regardless. Though . . . "

  "What is it?"

  "We've never taken a case involving The Taurus. That's why you guys didn't know who they were. Why didn't Jax ever take a case involving them?"

  I think back through the cases we've worked over the last ten years, and the oddness of it all hits me like a freight train. When I was seventeen, Jax promised me revenge against The Taurus . . . but they're the only ones I haven't got the chance to go after . . . until now.

  "That doesn't make sense, Lily."

  "Does anyone else know about this?"

  She meets my gaze, her eyes cold. "No, mate."

  "Sammi, I think I need to go into this auction."

  "Lily, no. There's no guarantee you'll get to her."

  "I have to try, Sammi."

  She sighs. "I never should've told you."

  "I would've been pissed if you hadn't."

  "Promise me you'll be careful." Pain and sadness flood her eyes.

  "Sammi, you've seen what I can do. You know me."

  "I know. When will you tell the others?"

  "Tonight. I'll be back within a week of going in, with company." I give her one last grin.

  †††

  Letting Blake go, for now, is the only way I can do this. It's the last thing I want, but I can't tell him about his sister. Not when the odds are against me. I still have to try to rescue her though. Sammi and I agreed not to tell anyone, and I know she'll keep her promise no matter what happens.

  I walk down to the kitchen where everyone's quietly finishing dinner. I stop a few feet behind them and clear my throat. My heart's pounding in my ears as they turn with their faces expectant.

  "I've given a lot of thought on this in the last few hours, and I've decided to go in the auction."

  Gasps erupt around the table.

  "Lily, no," Dresden hisses.

  I hold my hand up. "Yes, Dresden. This is my job. No matter what, there's no denying that it's what I'm made for and the one thing I'm good at."

  Blake stands and walks to my side, eyes full of hurt and longing.

  "Lily . . . " he whispers.

  Tears pool in my eyes. I still can't explain the connection I feel to him, but it doesn't matter. This morning was all smiles, giggles, and flirtation, but that's nothing but a dream for now.

  I square my shoulders and turn to him, my intentions sending waves of pain through my body. I can feel the other's staring, making this harder . . . but I've no choice.

  "Don't, Mason." His eyes widen at the name usage. "Jax is right. This," I gesture to him and me, "is nothing more than an impossibility."

  "Bullshit, Lily," he growls lifting his hand to touch me. I grab his wrist and his jaw tightens.

  "No," I whisper. "Trust me. You can't begin to imagine the depths of my depravity, and I'll never be able to give you what you deserve. You'll never be able to fix me."

  The pain and hurt in his eyes matches my own. Choking back sobs, I walk briskly to my room, slamming the door behind me.

  Falling on the bed, burying my face in a pillow, pain radiates through me, shattering my core as if for the first time.

  17

  ~Lily~

  I sit up, screaming.

  Where am I?

  My eyes dart around the room, the white walls glow eerily in the muted moonlight. Shadows from the deep oak furniture dance around me as my body shakes violently. My head's fuzzy and confused.

  Blake's apartment.

  "Fuck!" I rub my hands across my face. I haven't had a nightmare in years..

  Throwing the deep blue blankets back, I force myself out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom. Fuck, my head's pounding. I splash cold water on my face, and dry off with a towel. Flipping the light off, I walk to the balcony doors, and push them open. Cold air off the bay caresses my face soothingly. My lids droop as I inh
ale the crisp, salty, breeze.

  I don't want to say goodbye to this . . . or him. Not yet.

  Blake's standing behind me, his unique energy giving him away. I need to reign in these emotions. A few weeks ago, no one would’ve entered this room without me hearing them. I sigh, squeezing my eyes closed until I see black dots dance behind my lids.

  "Hi, Blake," I whisper.

  He chuckles softly. "How'd you know it was me?"

  "Lucky guess." A sly grin creeps onto my face. Opening my eyes, I turn my head. He's standing next to me, bathed in moonlight. He's not wearing a shirt, so it reflects off his mocha-colored skin, giving it an almost luminescent glow.

  "I need to talk to you."

  "I figured as much. I didn't think you came into my room at this hour to play chess." I laugh quietly.

  "Why did you change your mind, Lily?" He tilts his head toward the sky, the breeze shaking his mussed up hair.

  Wow . . .

  "Because I need to do this." My voice cracks with unshed tears. "I don't expect you to understand."

  "Tell me."

  Looking at him, knowing the reality of the coming days makes my chest hurt. I reach out and take his hand in mine, shaking slightly. Pulling him to the bed, I sit on the edge, dragging him to sit in front of me. "The Taurus is a very dangerous ring. You’ve no idea how deadly."

  "Explain it to me then."

  "The girls they capture don't survive. The Taurus caters to the sickest buyers. Sadists, pedophiles, degenerates of all types. The girls spend their time beaten, raped, on the verge of death. They always retain their slaves. Once an owner's done with her, he gives her back to the ring to be resold, assuming that she lives through her recent owner."

  "Jesus Christ . . . "

  "Some of the girls get used in snuff films. It's madness."

  "Why were you screaming tonight?"

  Shit. "How did you hear that?"

  "I was on my way up the stairs. I'm surprised you didn't wake the whole house." He tilts his head trying to catch my gaze, but I avert it. I can't look him in the eyes right now. If I do, I'll break and confess everything. It'll ruin the only chance to save his sister.

  "Just a nightmare. First one I've had in a long time."

  "What was it about?"

  I shake my head. "I can't, Blake. Don't."

  "Lily," he pleads quietly. "I'm not giving up on you. Please don't shut me out."

  "I'm not shutting you out. I don't talk about this shit— to anyone." I bring my gaze up to meet his. The skin around his eyes is tense and he bites his bottom lip gently, running his fingers through his hair.

  "You can't hide forever, Lily. You gotta let someone in."

  I huff, rolling my eyes. I haven't let anyone in for nineteen years. It works fine. Well . . . it did until this shit happened.

  "I was abused as a kid," I whisper, staring at my hands.

  "Is that what you dreamed about?"

  "Yes." I sigh.

  "You don't have to say anymore. I don't want to push you," he says tracing my fingers with his.

  His hand glides over mine, feather light, leaving warmth in the wake of each pass. I shake slightly, but his touch . . . it feels good. I quiver, looking into his eyes.

  "He made me take all my clothes off, and beat me with a belt," I say, closing my eyes. Blake's body goes stiff. "After the beating, he tied me to a bed . . . I'll spare you the details of that."

  "Jesus Christ, Lily," he hisses. "How old were you?"

  I swallow thickly, almost choking on the imaginary lump in my throat. "Eight."

  He grabs me by the arms and pulls me against his chest. I struggle against him, but he tightens his embrace.

  "Blake, stop. I can't. Let go." I push against him harder. He doesn't let go.

  "Lily," he says in soothing tone. "Please."

  His words are calming, like a sedative administered through my ears. My body relaxes as my mind screams in alarm. I wrap my arms around his neck, my body trembling in protest. "No one's ever hugged me before," I whisper against his skin.

  "I don't want you to go, Lily. I want you to stay here with me."

  "I know."

  "Tell him no."

  "I can't." I run my fingers into his hair. It's soft. A shiver runs through him under my touch. His lips brush my shoulder and I still.

  "Blake . . . please don't. You deserve better."

  He leans backward, placing his hands on either side of my head, and forces me to look at him. "Stop telling me what I deserve and accept what I want." He leans in, pressing his lips to mine, and my body practically seizes. Desire courses through me, mixing with the ever-present fear.

  My hands fist in his hair as his mouth possesses mine. Pain and pleasure are two sides of the same knife and Blake is twisting it in my soul.

  I pull away, clamping Blake's face in my hands, resting my forehead against his. Our breathing is labored and rough, my body on fire. He trails his hands down my sides, resting them on my hips.

  "There's somewhere I need to take you and your team tomorrow. Before you decide to follow Jax's orders," he says, out of breath.

  "Okay."

  I've only got four days left. Breaking my own heart and maybe his in the process seems like a rude thing to do, but after tonight, I know it's inevitable.

  I never should’ve let you in.

  †††

  Blake wanted us to go with him to his halfway house. He refused to shut up until the entire team agreed to come. Jameson pulls up in front of the fifteen-story sandstone building. Catching my gaze, he winks at me. I roll my eyes.

  Jax and I fought over this for two hours this morning, after Blake talked the others into it. I’ve no interest in seeing or mingling with other survivors. I spend every day fighting my own damn demons. I don't need to be surrounded by everyone else's too.

  "Breathe. Mason is just trying to make us understand," Jameson says, leaning over the center console.

  He's close enough that his breath tickles my ear, and my body goes rigid. He notices, and pulls back slowly as if he's spooked a wild animal. He's never invaded my personal space before. Not even during the few weeks we had a break that I spent with him and Rhett. Even then, Jameson was cautious of my boundaries. The longer we're with Blake, though, the more my team forgets those boundaries.

  I get out of the car and step back, waiting for Blake. Exiting a moment later, he buttons his suit jacket. He looks down at me, and smirks. I tangle my fingers together.

  Keep fucking smirking, and one day I'll slap it off your face.

  "Shall we?" He sweeps his hand toward the door.

  I roll my eyes, and stomp to the glass doors like a petulant child, yanking them open. His smugness irritates me.

  "After you, Mr. Mason."

  I hold the left door, allowing him and the other members of the team to enter. We file through a second set of doors, and I breathe deeply.

  I can do this. Just breathe.

  The team stands together a short distance inside the building. I clear my throat, and they make a small path for me to move through. Nothing could prepare me for what's inside the first floor.

  No wonder the windows have mirror tint on them.

  I stand, stock still, next to Blake, scanning the room. My chest tightens and it hurts to breathe. Beds line the walls, and nurses bustle about tending to girls and women of all ages. In the center of the room is a sitting area with a few sofas, large chairs, and one large chaise lounge. Several younger girls sit, staring at their hands. The room is eerily quiet, except for a petite, dark haired girl on one of the hospital beds.

  "Destul! Destul!"

  The woman tending her wipes a cloth down her back. I take a step closer. Her face is pale, tears soaking her sallow cheeks. The thick drops slip from her chin onto her thin legs, leaving wet pools on her dirty pants.

  "Honey, you have to hold still," the woman says in a harsh tone.

  I can't take it. I jog over to the woman and before she can touch the
towel to the girl's back, I grab her wrist and squeeze.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Leave her alone," I say through gritted teeth.

  "Lily, she's just doing her job," Blake says, his jaw and eyes tight.

  He and the team move quickly to the side of the bed. They leave room around it, probably not wanting to frighten the little, shattered girl, staring at me in disbelief.

  "Do you want her to stop?"

  "She doesn't speak English, she speaks Russian," says the dumb bitch, glaring at me.

  "Are you stupid?" I let go of her wrist. She steps back, and Blake moves to stand next to her. "She's Romanian, not Russian. Destul means 'enough'. She was telling you to stop."

  "Lily . . . you know Romanian?" Sammi steps closer to me.

  My gaze finds Jax. Tears shine in the bottom of his eyes mixed with anger. Our deep, dark secret is about to be unleashed, and the aftermath is sure to be just as ugly.

  "I'm Romanian, Sammi."

  "Wait, you said you were from Texas," Jameson blurts out, his eyes sweeping from me to Jax.

  "All part of the lie, Mamba," I whisper, reaching into my shirt and pulling out my necklace. Everyone takes it in, and then returns their horror-stricken glares to my face. I swallow, rubbing the back of my neck nervously.

  I lock eyes with the girl sitting on the table. She's wearing a bra and loose fitting jeans. Her tears have stopped, but her hands clamp down so tightly around the edge of the hospital bed her knuckles are white.

  "Care e numeletău?" I haven't spoken Romanian since I was seventeen, but it isn't something I'm likely to forget.

  "Sorina," she says in a weak voice. She shifts her body and winces.

  "Vorbesti engleza?" I can't stand here and speak in Romanian all day. Blake and the team need to understand what people like her are feeling. They think they understand, but they don't. Not truly.

  "Yes, ma'am," she says.

  I give her a weak smile."Thank you, but I'm no ma'am. I know this must be scary for you— "

  "You know nothing," she hisses at me.

  I steel my gaze on her. A little underneath her collarbone, I recognize the brand of the Taurus.

  "I know more than you think."