The Auction Block

by Courtney Lynn Rose

  Her eyes widen as I undo the buttons of my blouse with shaking hands. I let my shirt fall to the floor and several people behind me gasp. They've never seen my scars. Blake's eyes widen as he reaches up and grasps the back of his own neck, his chest still as if he's stopped breathing.

  I pull over a stool and sit directly in front of Sorina, tilting my head back. Her eyes bulge as she takes in the brand under my collarbone. It matches hers.

  "I was taken by the Taurus when I was eight," I say quietly, bringing my head back down to meet her eyes. Slowly, she reaches her hand out toward my brand mark. "Don't, Sorina. Please. I can't stand to be touched."

  She drops her hand back to her leg.

  "They flogged me," she whispers, her head sagging.

  "Beaded or hooked?" The stares aimed at us pulse like a current on my back.

  "Beaded."

  "Can I look?"

  "Yeah."

  I stand and move around to the back of her. The gashes on her back are healing. Most of them are scabs with thick callous coverings. No wonder she screamed. Cotton against this feels like sandpaper. A few of the scabs peeled off, leaving tiny trails of blood running down her pale skin.

  I pick up the towel and walk to the sink. Returning to Sorina, I take in the fact many of the other survivors have joined my team around the table. I lay the cold, wet rag over her back and she sighs loudly.

  "Don't wipe their backs if they've been flogged. Beaded floggers cause terrible scabs. You'll pull them off wiping them with these. Use cold compresses and light pressured water to clean them," I say directly to the woman standing next to Blake.

  Her mouth's hanging open. Pity and confusion linger in Blake's eyes. This is exactly why I hide my scars.

  "Do you have scars like mine?" Sorina looks confused as I sit back in front of her.

  "Yes," I whisper, hanging my head. I don't want to think about mine.

  "Beaded or hooked?"

  "Hooked." I swallow the lump in my throat.

  Slowly, I turn so my back faces her. After a moment, the gentle touch of her fingers traces one of the scars on my shoulder. My body clams up and I start to shake. Her fingers moves to the next scar and my hands tighten on the sides of the stool. I hear a sob from my left, and I'm certain it's Sammi. My body jerks as the shaking increases.

  "Please . . . . stop," I whisper, barely audible.

  She complies. I stand, my body still racked with fear, spinning around to face her.

  "How long has it been for you?" She hops down off the table to stand in front of me.

  "Not long enough." I stare down into her eyes. "I'd tell you it gets better, but I'd be lying. It hasn't got any better for me. But everyone's different, Sorina."

  She lunges toward me and wraps her arms around my midsection, squeezing me in a tight hug. I start to shake again, but slowly, place my arms around her shoulders. Tears spill from my eyes, and I plant an unsure kiss on her hair.

  I uncoil her hands from around me, and step out of her embrace. I scoop my shirt off the floor and slip my arms back through. Her eyes never leave mine. She sits on the stool, and I kneel in front of her.

  "Don't be like me. Don't let them win. If you let it consume you, you'll never be free. You still have time. Use whatever resources Blake Mason has here, and build a new life for yourself."

  She nods as tears roll down her cheeks. My hand shakes terribly, but I reach up and run my fingertips down her face. Her eyes close at my touch, and I need to leave. I can't stay here any longer.

  I stand, and close my eyes taking a deep breath.

  "Lily . . . " Blake whispers.

  I turn on my heels and run for the door.

  Fuck this shit.

  18

  ~Lily~

  Black spots disturb my vision as I push hastily through the halfway house doors, into the blazing morning sun.

  My head's pounding with Sammi's sobs, Blake's whispers, and the look on Jax's face. Knots form in my stomach and it's as if someone made me swallow dirt. I might puke.

  I can't go back right now. The last thing I want to see is the pain on everyone's face, and I'm certain things with Blake are over. I'm not in any state to deal with that right now. I turn left and speed walk away from the halfway house.

  My chest aches like someone hit me with a sledgehammer. The past is in the past, and dwelling on it does me no good. It hurts, physically, to think about. Being here, and with Blake, is turning my world on its head, my past, present, and possibly future slamming together in ways I never thought possible.

  A green canopy catches my eye as I pass by storefront after storefront. I stop and look up. The Green Turtle, a bar with an advertisement for having the best bartenders in Baltimore. I open the door and step inside. The air conditioning raises goosebumps on the back of my neck. I glance around the room as my eyes adjust to the inside light.

  An older woman stands behind the bar. She looks over and smiles as she wipes a rag along the counter-top. I move toward her and slide onto one of the stools, fishing my credit card out of my pocket.

  "You look like you're having a bad day, hon. What can I get ya?"

  "I'm not much of a drinker. What do you recommend?" I twist my head to crack my neck.

  "Depends on what you want outta drinking."

  "I want to get so drunk I forget my name," I say unable to hide the pain.

  She gives me a sad look. "In that case, let me introduce you to one of my favorite shots, and a mixed drink that could put a grown man on his ass."

  She pulls four bottles of liquor out and a container of tonic water. She mixes the three dark booze in a double shot glass, and the water and clear booze in a tumbler. Setting them in front of me, she gives me one last grin and walks to the other end of the bar.

  She refills beer coolers as the shot sits ominously in front of me.

  Here goes nothing.

  The glass is cool against my fingertips, my hand trembling slightly, and I throw it back. I cough as it burns my throat, slamming into my stomach. Fuck, that's some strong shit. I set the glass down and pick up the tumbler taking a long gulp. The clear booze burns worse than the shot.

  "You want another?" The bartender smiles.

  "What the hell is that?"

  "The shot's called a Three Wise Men. All big booze. The drink's a gin and tonic."

  "Another of both," I mutter downing the rest of the tumbler.

  She brings another round, and I throw back the shot without hesitation.

  Three hours later the lunch crowd comes in, and I decide to find a new bar. I'm already buzzed and it’s just past midday. The fact I'm still thinking about Blake tells me I haven't had nearly enough booze. I take a cab from Towson to Fells Point, stumbling upon a bar called, The Horse You Came In On.

  That sounds promising.

  My feet aren't working the way I want them too, and I stumble, slower than normal to the door and step inside. I take a seat at the end of the counter and flag down the bartender. This place is dark and cool, and close to Blake's apartment. It's a good place to finish getting shit-faced.

  †††

  It's 5:00 PM and so far, I've got twenty-eight missed calls, sixteen voicemails, and thirty-two text messages. I press my voicemail code and bring the phone to my ear. The first message kicks on and my chest tightens.

  "Lily, it’s Blake. Please call me, hon. Don't do this. Don't run. I'm still here." The message is from 9:00 AM, ten minutes after I left the halfway house. I delete it and listen to the next one.

  "Viper, call me. We need to talk about this." Dresden. I press delete.

  I order another round and continue to listen to each message. I'm startled at the second to last one.

  "Lily, I’ve watched you for the last half hour. You’re going get sick. Stop drinking."

  I whip around, the room blurring and my stomach heaving. My eyes eventually find Hayato, sitting at a table in the back of the bar. I pick up my drink and stumble to him, flopping down in the chair across from
him.

  "Where's everyone else?"

  "They’re at Mason's apartment. I told 'em I’d find you." His face is hard and full of agitation.

  "Well, you found me. Should've left my cell phone in the damn car."

  "Lily, I didn’t tell them where you were. You need to come back. Got to face this eventually."

  "Yeah, no shit."

  "Listen, I know you care for Mason. This mission is important to you too. Why don't you do the assignment for Jax, come back and resign. Go live a normal life. You’re still young, like me. People like us, still have a chance for life after Interpol." He gives me a hard stare.

  "You thinking about leaving too?"

  "I don't know. I’ve done this a long time. There are other things I want to do."

  "I don't know what to do, Boomslang. This shit has me all fucked up."

  "Follow your heart, Lily. It always leads you in the right direction."

  He stands and pats my shoulder, sending a wave of tremors through my body. I sit for a while, thinking over his words. Hayato's a good person, and it takes a lot to defy Jax just to help me. Not telling them where I am speaks volumes to me of his friendship. My team really is better to me than I ever realized.

  Time for something stronger.

  I meander back to the counter and flag down the new bartender. Shift change.

  "What can I get ya, sweetie," the younger gentleman asks, smiling happily.

  "Something stronger than this." I hold up the little bit left of my Jack and Coke.

  "You ever try any of our bombs?"

  "Your what?" I down the rest of my drink.

  He walks away smiling. A moment later, he sits two half-full glasses in front of me. One filled with a dark liquid, the other a clearer one. Next to each, he sits a shot glass. I eye them apprehensively.

  "This one's a Jagerbomb," he points to the clear liquid duo. "And this one's an Irish Car Bomb. Drop the shot in the large glass and chug it."

  I take a deep breath, hoping these things don't taste like shit. I pound back the Jagerbomb first, swallowing the last bit and hold my mouth closed. Once I'm sure I won't puke, I down the other one, which is much better. Slamming the glass down, the bartender reappears.

  "Two more of the Irish ones. What's the beer in that?"

  "Guinness."

  "A bottle of that too."

  Waiting on my drinks, I pull my phone out and open my text messages. The most recent two catch my attention.

  8:25p Caleb: Lily, please go back to Blake's. He's beside himself. He loves you. Don't do this to him.

  8:30p Miranda: Caleb messaged me. Told you, bitch. You'll never give him what he needs.

  I growl at the phone, holding the power button, fuming as it shuts down. The bartender sits my next round in front of me and I grab the first bomb, downing it without hesitation. I take a deep breath wrapping my hands around the second.

  She's right. I'm so done right now.

  †††

  "The bar closes in twenty minutes, hon. Can I call you a cab?"

  I glance up at the short woman who's been aiding me in my goal for the early morning hours. I'm thoroughly drunk.

  A cab?

  "Sh-ure," I stand, unsteady, grabbing the bar top for balance.

  Fuck, I'm drunk. Really drunk.

  I giggle. Jax is going to be pissed. Fuck him. My head's sloshy, like a bowl of Jello. I laugh again, stumbling to the bar door.

  A yellow and black cab sits at the curb. I shuffle to the door, open it and fall inside. Pulling a twenty out of my pocket, I hold it over the seat. "You know who Blake Mason is?"

  "Yes ma'am," the cabbie says, sliding the money out of my hand.

  "You know his apartment?"

  "Yes."

  "That's where I'm going."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  I lean my head back and close my eyes as the driver pulls into traffic. Baltimore is busy at two in the morning. The cab stops often, and my head feels like water in a bottle. I clamp my hands to my temples.

  Fuck, this blows. Hard liquor is bad . . . good, but bad.

  "Here we are, ma'am. Do you need help inside?"

  "Nope, I got this shit. Thanks."

  I fling the door open and stumble onto the sidewalk. Grabbing the railing to the front door, bent at the waist, I stare up. Steps and drunk, don't mix. I stumble and fall on my knee twice, but manage to get into the lobby. Using the walls to hold myself upright, I practically drag my feet toward the elevator.

  "Weeee." I giggle as the elevator moves to Blake's floor.

  Coming to a halt, my stomach jiggles inside. Oh, that's fucking weird. The doors open, and I trip into the foyer, catching myself on a table. I laugh.

  "She's here!" Someone yells from the kitchen . . . I think.

  The pounding of feet echoes through the hall, getting louder with each second. I stand straight, swaying from side to side.

  Oh, this is going to be so much fun. I bet I can still throw a knife. Ha . . .

  "Where the fuck have you been?" Blake snaps a few feet away. "Are you drunk?"

  I laugh, running my hands over my face. "Way to notice, Captain Obvious."

  "Don't get smart with me! You've worried us all half to death."

  "Don't scold me, rich boy. If I wanna get smashed, I don't need your permission." I point my finger at his face.

  Movement to my left catches my attention. Dresden has slowly crept too close. Trailing my thumb across my bottom lip, I grin wickedly. "Don't even think about it, Dres. You touch me, and I'll cut your balls off and throw them over the balcony."

  He holds his hands up. "Lily, you're about fall over." His voice is soft and brings me up short. I shake my head, still swaying.

  "Don't." I hold my hand up toward him. "I'm going to change." I stumble toward my room, slamming my hip into another table. "Fuck!"

  Falling into my bedroom, I'm vaguely aware of someone behind me. I struggle out of my shirt and bra, and throw them on the floor, pulling on a sports bra. Shimming out of my pants and damn near falling over, I grab a pair of boy-shorts and slide them on.

  "Lily, do you need help?" Sammi asks in a hushed tone.

  "Nope." I turn to face her. "Let's go finish this, shall we?"

  "Alcohol seems to make you brave and stupid," she says, scratching next to her ear.

  Everything's fuzzy and the room spins slightly. "No sense in hiding anymore, you all know the truth now."

  She sighs loudly and turns to leave. I follow her, unsteadily, back to the living room where the team and Blake wait. I stop in the middle of the room and spin slowly, my arms held out.

  "Take a good fucking look. You wanted to know what I've been hiding. Here it is."

  I face them. Jax's shoulders slump, defeated. I shake my head, refusing to feel sorry for him. I'm the one drunk and flaunting my shame to the world.

  "What are the crosses down your leg," Dresden asks.

  Slowly, I run my finger along the brands littering my skin from hip to knee. "My reminder."

  "What," Blake says, shock evident in his voice.

  "One cross for every owner for the last nineteen years."

  Several gasps echo around me.

  "You did that to yourself," Vlad says, his mouth hanging open.

  "Yeah," I chuckle darkly. "Soon I guess I'll have to add another one."

  Jax's head snaps up. I want to scream at him. Sammi's thoughts invade my alcohol-addled mind.

  "You could've said no, Lily," Jax snaps, standing. "I gave you a choice."

  I laugh, short and sharp, knowing he isn't talking about the current undercover assignment.

  "Choice? I was seventeen." I take a step toward him, anger unraveling from deep inside me. "I'd just fucking stabbed someone to death."

  "What?" several voices say at once.

  "We needed someone like you. You wanted revenge. Win-win," Jax says with no emotion in his voice.

  "What did I win, Jax? A life back in the auctions? Ten years and the only f
orm of touch I've been able to tolerate is taking another person's life."

  "You're point? You didn't have to kill them, Lily."

  You're right . . . I wanted to kill them. Every one of them.

  "How many people have you killed?" Blake folds his arms across his chest.

  "Six hundred sixty four in ten years," Sammi says.

  I shudder. That's a lot of bodies.

  "Jesus Christ," he breathes.

  "See, Blake. You've no idea what you want . . . because you have no idea who I am, or what I'm capable of," I whisper.

  The energy runs from my body. My knees buckle and I'm spent— deflated, a popped balloon. The floor rushes up to meet me, pain lancing through my head as darkness closes in.

  19

  ~Lily~

  Every time a voice reaches my ears, I stir from my sleep, but my eyes won't open as if I'm in an alcohol induced coma. They echo and sound distant, but I can still make them out.

  "What are you going to do, bro?" Caleb.

  A stuttered breath makes my chest tighten. I want to see what's happening, but my brain is in nothing but darkness.

  "I don't know," Blake whispers.

  "I think she loves you, man. Don't give up on her."

  Quiet cries bounce inside my head, fading as the blackness closes in. I will my eyes to open, but nothing happens.

  Fuck!

  Voices rise again, but I'm still in some alternate place.

  I'm never drinking like that again. Ever.

  "Why does she have to go into the auctions? If you can find them, why not just have them raided?" Blake's pissed.

  "Honestly, this is the way Jax has always done it. We don't question it," Dresden says conflicted.

  No, Dres, don't tell him about that shit.

  "So, she gets used as bait and no one stops to wonder why?"

  "Blake, we're a very efficient team. Lily never complained and in ten years, we only had a couple fuck ups," Dresden says, sighing.

  "Is there a chance we can get her to change her mind?" His fingertips lightly caress my cheek.