The Auction Block

by Courtney Lynn Rose

  He runs his hands down my back and I cry out. My skin hurts from him hitting me.

  "Oh, Mihnea, I'm so sorry."

  I shoot up in bed, sweat dripping from my forehead as I gasp for air.

  What the fuck? It can't be true . . . it was a dream.

  I know it's true though. My dreams have always been the same. They aren't dreams. They're flashbacks.

  "Mihnea?" I whisper to myself.

  "Who's Mihnea?" Blake says, brushing my hair back.

  I look over at him, eyes wide. We'd come to bed a few hours ago, but it feels like longer. I run my hands over my face, the name repeating in my head. Mihnea. My heart starts to race, my breath quickening.

  "Me . . . "

  I jump out of bed, wearing nothing but boy shorts and a sports bra. Blake is right behind me, yelling my name as I bolt down the stairs into the living room. Thank God, Dr. Saladinya decided to stay the night here.

  "Hastin," I scream as I romp through the living room, toward his bedroom. "Hastin!"

  He comes running out of his room, stopping just short of colliding with me. "Lily, what is it? What's wrong?"

  "Mihnea. It's Mihnea."

  "What? What's Mihnea?"

  "My name. My birth name. It's Mihnea."

  His eyes widen as he glances over my shoulder. I turn my head to Blake standing next to Vlad and Dresden, their mouths slightly open, shocked expressions on their faces.

  "Let’s go in the office and talk, okay?"

  "Okay."

  I turn and hurry to Blake. I reach up, grip my hand around the back of his neck, and pull his lips to mine, giving him a hard but brief kiss. My heart's pounding in my ears at this new revelation. Nineteen years and I've never been able to recall this detail of my formative years. It's like something has lit a fire under my ass, and for once, I'm eager to share this with my good doctor.

  I rush into his office and shut the door, more forcefully than I intend.

  "I was asleep and had a flashback. I don't want to use that name, but I wanted you to know. It was Mihnea. My name was Mihnea," I say quickly.

  "Well, Lily, I think, for once, you're moving in the right direction."

  I smile at him, running my fingers through my hair. "I don't know if I want to remember, but . . . maybe it will help me figure all this shit out."

  He grins. "I think you're right. Tell me about the flashback."

  I sit on the chaise and take a deep breath.

  Here we go . . . again.

  39

  ~Lily~

  The team is huddled in my office for last minute planning. Blake's charity event is two days away and he's spent the last four days putting this thing into overdrive. After our family dinner the other night, he dove into planning headfirst.

  "So, are we missing anything," I ask, shuffling through all our paperwork for a fourth time.

  "No, ma'am," Vlad says, straightening himself from the front of my desk.

  "Well, let's all get some rest. This event is going to give us all gray hair," I say, dismissing them.

  I rest my elbows on the desk and tangle my fingers in my hair. Blake is going to give me more reasons for therapy. This was supposed to be a small event. No more than two hundred attendees. He handed me a guest list this morning with close to a thousand and informed me he'll be selling tickets to late comers at the door. We know how important this event is for him, so we're trying to be lenient, but he's pushing my patience for what I will and won't tolerate.

  I sigh, leaning forward to rest my head on the cool surface of my desk. The framed picture to the right is a sketch of Blake, Sorina, and I. She drew it, framed it, and gave it to me after dinner. It's my most prized possession.

  Grabbing the frame, I stare down at the picture like sketch. Sorina has a gift. I'd love to enroll her in some art classes once we're on safer ground. Blake bought her a shit load of canvases, paints, and other stuff yesterday while he, Dresden and Vlad ran out. Somehow, he sweet-talked his way into going without me. I was a nervous wreck the entire time.

  Sitting the picture back, I quietly make my way to Sorina's room. Her doors open, and the soft beat of bagpipes drifts to my ears. She's taken a liking to the Celtic style music Jameson introduced her to the other day. She's standing in front of her easel, a pallet of paint in her left hand, brush in the other.

  Her movements are small and precise as she adds colors to her work. She's fluid and graceful, no hesitation or second-guessing. We received her paperwork this morning. She's only thirteen and wise beyond her years. Her folks sold her when she was ten. Regardless of her maturity, I've made her take sessions everyday with Saladinya.

  She deserves the best of everything, and all the help she can get to overcome her time in the rings. I don't want her to end up like me. Angry, bitter, resentful . . . she deserves so much better. She and Blake both do. I still don't understand why they're willing to settle for me, but I'm selfish enough not to change a damn thing.

  Sorina turns around, meeting my eyes and smiles. She sets her tools down and skips to the stereo, cutting off the music.

  "What are you painting today?"

  "You, actually," she says, moving to block the canvas.

  "Can I see?" I sit on the edge of her bed.

  Her lips curve downward, she taps her toe, something she does when embarrassed.

  "I'm afraid you'll be angry."

  "Sorina, I could never be angry with you for your art. This is your therapy, the way music is for me," I say, tilting my head to the side.

  "I heard Mr. Dresden say Blake is your therapy," she blurts outs.

  Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Dresden!

  "In a way, yes, he is," I say, heat rushing to my cheeks.

  "Why do you always blush when someone mentions him?"

  "Because I'm not used to having feelings for people, Sorina. I care for Blake very much, and for me . . . it causes a very wide range of emotions I'm still struggling with."

  "Oh," she glances at me with a shy smile.

  "Now, may I see your painting?"

  Slowly, she steps to the side. My eyes move across the canvas, my hand flying to cover my mouth. In the top corner is my neck, down to a little past my collarbone with the Taurus brand prominent. On the other half of the canvas is a mural of my back . . . each scar in grave detail. I swallow the lump in my throat, tears stinging my eyes.

  My breath moves unsteadily in and out of my lungs, as I stand, involuntarily moving closer to the painting. I blink, spilling the moisture down my cheeks.

  "Can I call you Mom?" Sorina says, startling me.

  I whip my head around to face her. She's so young and frightened. It's like staring in a mirror, my chest tightening, remembering the pain and anguish that consumed me at that age. "Is that what you want to call me?"

  "Yes. Blake says I can call him Dad too, but I want to be able to do that with both of you, not just one or the other."

  I open my arms, and she darts into them, nuzzling her head against my chest. "Of course you can kiddo. Whatever works best for you."

  "Okay . . . Mom."

  My heart constricts. It's a title I never envisioned belonging to me. The word from Sorina's lips is music to my ears, and happiness overwhelms me. I press my lips to her hair as the faint echo of footsteps stops outside her door.

  "There's my girls," Blake says in a deep voice.

  "Dad," Sorina exclaims, darting from my arms to his.

  I wipe the tears from my face as he hugs her to his chest.

  He pulls a small, black box from his pocket, holding it out to her. "I got you something to wear to the event."

  She smiles up at him, taking the box from his hands. Skipping to her bed, she plops down and opens it, squealing with delight. She pulls out a shiny necklace and clasps it around her neck.

  "Look, Mom," she says, leaping off the bed.

  Fuck that sounds strange. Mom . . . what the hell was I thinking?

  She stands in front of me, tilting her head back. A sterl
ing silver necklace with cursive lettering spells out her name— diamonds adorning the "S" glitter up at me.

  "It's beautiful."

  "And this is for you," he says holding another box out to me.

  "What's this?"

  "Just a little something," he says, smirking.

  I take the box from his hands, raising my eyebrow. Opening the lid, my heart stutters. A silver bracelet with the words ‘pentru totdeauna’ engraved on the surface lies inside. On the clasp are three, diamond encrusted letters— L,B, and S.

  "Blake . . . it's beautiful."

  He takes the bracelet from the box, and holds it out. I extend my left wrist and he secures it against my skin. It sparkles as the light catches the diamonds.

  "Every time you look at this, I want you to remember that I want you and Sorina, forever."

  "Pentru totdeauna," I say, smiling up at him.

  "Forever sounds good to me," Sorina says, wrapping her arms around both of us.

  Blake leans down and kisses her hair, and then my lips.

  †††

  We spend the rest of the day with Sorina. She's more inquisitive than Blake, just less annoying about it. She bombarded both of us with a million questions. I tried to keep up and answer everything truthfully, but some subjects are still too touchy for me to discuss in detail.

  Surprisingly enough, when I refused to answer certain things, she simply says okay, and moves on to the next question. We got a lot of the rules and expectations down at least. I lie in bed, well past exhaustion and smile. He's going to be the nicer parent. Go figure, I'm the strict one.

  Blake's standing in the door leading to the closet, a towel wrapped around his waist looking like some GQ model. He sifts through his clothes, the muscles in his back rippling from the movement. My belly clenches and I bite my lip.

  "Just drop the towel and come to bed. You've been standing there forever," I say in mock irritation.

  He looks over his shoulder and smiles. Turning to face me, he lets the towel go and my eyes wander greedily down his body as I lick my lips. He looks better than brandy to an alcoholic. He saunters over to the bed, his eyes never leaving mine, and lowers himself on top of me, running his nose along my jaw.

  "We need to go to bed," I whisper, tilting my head back as he gently nips my neck.

  "Then you should let me put clothes on," he says in a husky tone.

  "Blake, I like you without them for more than just sex," I say seriously.

  He sits back and looks at me, the questions dancing in his eyes.

  "You forget you're the first person I've had this with. I really just like the way your skin feels against mine."

  His eyes soften and without another word, he sits up, pulling me with him. In one swift movement, he pulls my shirt over my head and twists, lying on the bed with me on his chest. I close my eyes and drift. This is the only place I want to be.

  †††

  ~Blake~

  I sit up straight in bed, panic choking me. I flip on the bedside lamp and look over. Lily isn't in bed . . . again. As I run my hands over my face, somber tones from the piano reach my ears. I sigh and climb from bed, grabbing a pair of sweats.

  The music gets louder as I walk quietly down the stairs. My heart stops as I take in the two, most beautiful women sitting there. Lily is in her bra and a pair of shorts with Sorina next to her in a tank top and sweats. Both their backs are clearly visible, and my chest tightens.

  Most men would shudder at the sight, but they're both perfect to me in every way. I know they hate those marks, and looking at them now, as Sorina, my new daughter, sways to the music, while Lily, the woman I want to be my wife, sings like an angel, I'm reminded how much they’ve been through, how similar they are, and how much I still have to learn about their pain.

  I walk as quiet as possible toward them. Lily doesn't stop singing but her head turns ever so slightly and I know she's aware I'm here. Sorina looks up at me as I gently lay my hands on Lily's shoulders. She doesn't even tense up. I'm so proud of how far she's come in the last five months. She's so much stronger emotionally than she knows.

  "You should be in bed kiddo," I whisper to her as Lily finishes singing.

  "I couldn't sleep. I'm sorry," she says looking upset.

  I reach over and tip her chin up. "Don't apologize. Tomorrow's a big day for you, Shannon, and the other girls. I want my girl to be well rested so she can enjoy herself."

  She stands, walks around the bench and crushes herself to my side. Trusting men is hard for both of them. They have no idea how much it means to me that I'm the one they trust. I've never thought about having kids until the day Lily decided to announce she wanted to adopt Sorina. I'm not sure what kind of father I'll be, but I know I'll be better than my father, that's for damn sure.

  I kiss Sorina's hair and she skips off to her bedroom. Lily's shoulders rise and fall, a signal she's sighing at something. A grin plays on my face, and I massage her arms gently. She's so tense all the time. Even when we make love, which is when she's the most relaxed, I can feel the knots in her muscles.

  "What's wrong, baby?"

  She leans her head back, looking at me somewhat upside down. "Nothing. Just nervous about the event . . . and Sorina."

  "What about Sorina?" I bend down to kiss her lips. They're soft and warm, and elicit a reaction in my body I couldn't fight even if I wanted to.

  "I'm glad she's here, but . . . what kind of mother can I be, Blake? Seriously, I can't even remember my mother, not that I'd want to. I've nothing to base myself off of," she says in agitation.

  I clasp her head in my hands and kiss her again. "Lily, you'll be an amazing mother. Between you and me, Sorina will want for nothing for the first time in her life. She'll be surrounded by people who love her and want nothing but the best for her."

  She pulls her head from my hands, stands, and wraps her arms around my neck. I kiss her with all the passion I can, her fingernails running against my scalp, sending a wave of shivers down my body.

  Damn, what this woman does to me.

  I glide my hands down her body, gripping her firm and beautiful ass in my hands. She pushes onto her tiptoes and I lift her over the bench with ease. We move backwards as she wraps her legs around my waist, grinding into my erection. I bite her bottom lip and she moans. It's one of my favorite sounds in the world.

  I sit her on the kitchen counter, letting my hands trail over every inch of her body. Touching her is like feeling the finest silk. I wish I could get her to wear stuff like that to bed.

  Maybe I'll surprise her with some.

  Lily leans forward and gently bites my neck. "I love you."

  I moan. Those words from her lips make me drunk. "I want you, Lily."

  She opens her legs wider and pulls me against her body, grinding into me. I capture her mouth with mine, and forget everything but her and the way she feels against me.

  She's my siren, my calling, my undoing.

  40

  ~Lily~

  "Ladies, please move your asses," Blake yells up the stairs.

  Sorina and I are getting ready for the charity event together. She's wearing the most beautiful dress— strapless, pale pink with silver sequins scattered across the top. We allow her to wear minimal make-up, consisting of light pink eye shadow and lipstick. He bought her pink diamond stud earrings to match, and of course, she's painted her nails pink, too. She will be, without a doubt, the most beautiful girl at this party.

  "Mom, are you coming out of the bathroom, or do I have to get Dad to drag you out?"

  I sigh, staring into the mirror. "Just go down. I'll meet you there."

  My breathing is uneven. The team agreed to wear formal attire for this, with our weapons and badges, and I feel ridiculous.

  Blake bought me a very revealing black gown. The dress is strapless and stops at the middle of my thighs. The overlay, which goes down to my ankles is black, flower designed lace. I've never shown so much skin, but I've decided not to hide my sc
ars any longer. I can't expect Sorina to be okay with her body if I'm not okay with mine.

  Around my neck is a single diamond secured by a black ribbon. On my right wrist is my watch communicator and on the left is the bracelet he bought me the other night. I have on diamond stud earrings and my hair is styled in a sleek, tight bun, courtesy of Teresa. I've kept my make-up minimal, like Sorina, with mascara and beige lip-gloss.

  I walk into the bedroom and pick up my shoulder holsters off the bed. As I strap them on, Blake walks in, his gaze moving from my face, down my body. His eyes dilate, darkening with lust. I stand straight, slipping my Interpol badge over my head, resting it against my stomach.

  He closes the door, walks over to me, and runs his knuckles lightly down my cheek. Electricity sings through me at his touch. I bite my lip.

  "You seem nervous," he whispers.

  "Is it that obvious?"

  "Yes. You're . . . stunning," he says, leaning down to kiss my neck, just below my ear. I shiver.

  "So are you," I say as he straightens himself out. He's wearing a tuxedo, his hair in sexy disarray.

  "Sorina is afraid I'm going to have to drag you downstairs," he says, smirking.

  "That girl is too much. She's beautiful, though."

  "Yes she is. I'm a lucky man, to be surrounded and loved by such beautiful and talented. women."

  I give him a sly grin, running my hands up the lapels of his jacket. "Promise me you'll be extra careful tonight."

  "I will," he says, trailing his hands down my sides.

  I take his hand and we make our way downstairs. As Blake and I hit the bottom stair, several people gasp. I look up, smiling shyly. This is only the second time I've worn a dress and it's more awkward than before. My Taurus brand is in full view , as are the scars on the top of my back. My gun holsters cover some of it, but not enough to make me comfortable.