by Sweet, Izzy
My old man was one of the rich boy, Harvard elites back when he was young dumb and full of cum. One of those guys from the old-school of business. He and my mom couldn’t have been from more different paths of life. She was the daughter of a mechanic and waitress. Teaching in some edge of the city poverty ridden school. They met at some fundraiser where she was pleading for more school supplies, and soon enough, they found that instant-love thing.
I never understood that shit. Instant fairy tale love.
What crap.
“You ready to get moving?” Andrew’s voice comes over the earpiece.
“Yeah, give me a second.”
Adjusting my tie one last time, I head out of the house and straight to the brand new Lexus. Opening the car door, I get hit by the smell of new leather. Fuck, this thing must have come off the lot as soon as they got it there.
Starting up the engine, I look down at the odometer and see it has less than one fucking mile on it. Holy shit, this is a hot fucking car. I love my bike like it’s my significant other, but she’s not the warmest of women in the dead of winter.
Just feeling this baby start up so quiet and smooth gets me hard.
Pulling out of the driveway, I look up at my two-story house. It’s in the middle of nowhere suburbia. This is the place I rarely, if ever, come to. I don’t have a lot of use for a house. The small apartment over the bar suits me more. This is just a shell for me. A mask that Lucifer likes his guys to have to keep up a sense of normalcy for the men.
Especially since Lilith came around.
He likes us to have the family look about us. I think most of us being single guys, who work the darker side of life, don’t have much in the family way. I don’t. Almost all of the inner circle doesn’t either.
Shit, Andrew and Lucifer are the exceptions so far, and all of us have seen how that’s been going.
Andrew and his wife are all modern family kind of shit. He’s got kids and a wife who fucking adores the shit out of him.
He’s been neutered.
Dude’s got a ball and chain now on him.
Doesn’t go out drinking, only goes to the strip clubs when it’s for work. Shit, man, he doesn’t do anything fun anymore.
Fucking women and the grip they get on men. I don’t know how they stand for it, but they do.
And now I can’t quit thinking about Beth. The image of those hazel eyes closing as she leaned in for my kiss.
The way the tequila mixed with something else that tasted dark and sexy, like she was my own piece of dark, dangerous candy.
Her intoxicating scent as we mashed our lips together. Her tongue hesitant at first, perhaps out of practice, but what she lacked in practice she made up for in almost reckless abandon as she pushed her firm breasts into my chest.
Holding herself to me.
Shit and fuck.
She has no right putting herself in my thoughts like that.
They’re not the kind I want floating around when I’m getting ready to walk into the fucking lion’s den.
Especially since I can’t fucking stand the thought of not being the one who buys her.
Not going to lie, at least not to myself. The thought of buying her gives my cock a little jerk, like he’s looking up to me and saying, that’s right, big guy, we’re about to buy ourselves a fucking little goddess of sexual perfection.
* * *
“Comms check, go for one,” I mutter as I bend over, pretending to tie my dress shoe.
“Go for two,” James says.
The rest of our crew check in as I stand up, looking around the place.
The security to get into this place was fucking intense. There wasn’t a single fucking spot on my body they didn’t feel up except my damn ear holes, thankfully.
Shit, even my freshly dyed hair was ruffled. They got some of that sticky shit Missy put in it on their hands, and I had to crack a grin. Looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t care for the stuff.
As soon as I drove onto the property, I was carefully directed where to park then escorted into the warehouse where the auction will be taking place.
I highly doubt this is the same building they are keeping the merchandise in, though.
They wouldn’t be stupid enough for that.
They’re going to want a way to protect the livestock as much as possible from any potential threat beyond their own.
And fuck me. Yep, fuck me with a damn stick.
They’re putting me into a private booth.
There’s almost a dozen other booths around the one I’m politely, but firmly, shuffled into.
I get a quick look at the other men and women who’ve arrived around the same time as me and it looks like none of them are freaking out.
But shit, this means I’m more than likely going to be watched and monitored.
The armed man who is escorting me into the booth bows to me with his head before asking in a thick Russian accent, “Would you like a drink?”
Pausing a second, I try to think of a way to get word to the guys listening in about the situation I just got thrust into. “Yeah, rum neat. Will I have a viewing monitor of the live auction from this cube, or will they be strictly online? My… client would prefer that I can see the merchandise alive and moving before I buy.”
“It will be on the large monitor.” The man points to the screen. “They will be, as you, say moving. It will be on stage.”
“Excellent.”
“I need the account number we will be taking the money from.”
Repeating off the number I memorized to him, I can only hope we have enough in there.
The man leaves the room and I let out just one grouch. “Fucking stuck in a damn cubicle. How am I supposed to see the merchandise and get a feel for them?”
Simon comes through quickly over the comms. “Clear your throat to answer yes. Are you in a private booth which is most likely monitored?”
Fuck, I feel like a spy or some shit.
Clearing my throat, I hear him curse. “Dammit, this isn’t how they normally operate.”
“Perhaps they’re stepping up the security. The girl’s names could have come up to them somehow and they are ensuring this does not go awry,” Lucifer’s voice comes through in a smooth drawl.
“Find out their bidding method. I was able to hear the representative’s words so we should be able to get a better grasp from what he has to say.”
It’s not long after I take a seat in the comfortable leather chair that the man comes back with my drink. “Your drink, sir.”
Accepting the rum, I take a sip only to be shocked by the taste. This isn’t a cheap drink. No, the smoothness with which it goes down, and the subtle flavor, lets me instantly know it’s a label I probably couldn’t afford to drink more than once a year.
“Since my client was not able to attend, I want to become familiar with the bidding methods for tonight’s showing.”
“I will be with you throughout the bidding, sir. We will bring out the merchandise one at a time. There will be bidding only for that one. Then the next will be brought out. I will be here to send in a bid if you like what you see.”
Nodding my head at the small monitor beside the large one on the wall, I ask, “And the second monitor?”
“It will show current price, and it will show lineup. It updates as progress happens.”
“Ah, so I’ll know what has been bought?”
“Yes.”
As if speaking the words were magic, the second screen blinks on. A panel on the left side displays the faces of many women. Under each face is a dollar amount showing what I assume will be the starting bid.
Fuck. There’s more faces on there than even I can stomach.
It’s only with the grit of my fucking stomach I can ask in an even voice, “How many are for sale tonight?”
“Eighteen, sir.”
“What does he mean eighteen?!” Simon hisses in my ear. “It was twenty earlier today.”
“Has som
ething changed in the lineup?” I ask as I stare at the one face that has brought me so much fucking heartburn.
Beth is there in front of me, on the small screen, her eyes so lost and haunted. This is not the woman I knew. Not the woman whose bedroom eyes had me feeling like a caveman.
“Ah… We had one bought ahead of schedule. My boss was offered something he could not say no to.”
Beth is there, and so is one of her friends. But two of them are not…
“You said one? What about the other?” I ask.
His silence fills the small room and I can’t help but clench my fists. Fuck.
“Damn,” I hear Andrew through the line.
“We need to know who was bought, and what happened to the other,” Simon says.
“Well, I would like to pre-bid on a—”
“It’s not possible, I must apologize.”
“Is it pricing?”
“No.”
Even more fucking silence fills the air as I turn away from the man. I’m radiating calm, cool, and collected.
Fucking radiating it.
But I swear if I could turn around and grab this motherfucker’s balls, and yank them all the way up to shove down his throat, I fucking would.
Looking at the small screen, I watch as the faces scroll past.
It’s starting up now.
I swear I can feel the fear radiating from the captives through the walls of the cubicle as the main monitor pops on. The background on the screen flickers to life, and there on a pedestal, is the first entry for tonight’s auction.
It’s a young woman of Asian descent standing there, trying to cover her naked body the best she can.
Watching her eyes darting around in terror pulls at me, but I’m here on business. And as much as I would like to help, I won’t.
The small screen rolls around again and I spot a face has disappeared.
What the fuck?
The Asian woman’s face is still there while the bidding takes place, but one of Beth’s friends has disappeared.
It’s only Beth there now.
There were four fucking women when she came to my bar, and now it’s down to her, and I haven’t been able to do shit to stop them from disappearing.
Turning my head back to man in the box with me, I ask, “Why am I watching merchandise disappear from the screen? You guys don’t want us to all have a shot at bidding?”
“The merchandise has been sold,” he says with a shoulder shrug.
Motherfucker. Turning away from him, I know I won’t be getting information.
“And it was a virgin. I guess you guys are playing favorites with your buyers,” I mutter to the guy.
“Shit,” Andrews voice comes over the comm in my ear.
“Peter, look for anyone leaving the property!” Simon all but yells.
“James, try to neutralize any opposition.”
“Switch to comms channel two, Peter. James stay on this one,” Andrew orders.
Shit, now’s when things are going to get dicey.
As if Andrew can sense my unease that things are heating up, his voice comes through the comm. “Keep cool, Johnathan. Nothing to do but move forward.”
Fuck! He’s right, but I can feel my hand tightening hard around the glass. If Beth disappears off the screen, I have no clue how many people I’ll have to kill to get to her.
“Got some movement,” James says.
“Roger. Move to comms channel three,” Andrew orders.
The bodies flash past me on the screen as I keep my eyes on her picture. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
When it’s her turn, my eyes snap up to watch her get paraded out just as all the other women have been. She’s been labeled virgin, and it’s why my thoughts keep turning back to our kiss. The way she seemed so out of practice…
The bidding instantly leaves the twenty thousand dollar initial reserve price. Fuck, I can see that even if she wasn’t a virgin, she would reach higher than most of the women who have been sold.
Without turning my head, I say to the man behind me, “Bid until I’ve won.”
“Sir?” the man asks, and in my ear I hear Simon cursing loudly at me to shut the fuck up.
There’s a laugh somewhere on the line, but I can’t figure out who it is.
Turning my head from the woman standing there, naked, her arm across her full breasts with her other hand trying to hide her sex, I say, “I said bid on her until I’ve won. You’ve taken options from my client away. I will win this one. Do you understand or are you stupid?”
Not bothering to look at him any longer than I must, I turn my eyes back to Beth. Fuck, just the thought of someone looking at her naked form is enraging me. I’m trying to remain cool, but I can feel with each bid from someone else, my blood pressure is rising higher and higher.
The bidding is slowing down, but some asshole keeps bidding up by ten thousand dollars a shot.
Fuck it.
“Five hundred and fifty thousand,” I say to the man in the room as I bet past the four hundred thousand mark we’re currently at.
It’s time to put an end to this fucking shit.
“What did you just fucking say!?” Simon screams in my ear so loudly I can barely keep myself from slapping my ear.
“Five hundred and fifty,” the man repeats as he inputs the number into the little pad he’s using.
The number was sitting there, waiting for me to bid. And like the fucking asshole I am, I’ve all but laid my dick out on the table, daring anyone to come and try to measure up to me.
We sit there for a full thirty seconds. I know some asshole out there is probably trying to figure out how high I am willing to go.
“You are the winning bidder. The funds are being taken now.”
Standing up from the chair, I say, “Fine.”
A flicker on the screen catches my attention, and even though I know I shouldn’t bother looking back at it, I do.
God dammit. My stomach drops to the floor and if I could kill every motherfucker here with my bare hands, I would.
There, on the large screen, is a boy no older than six. Blue-eyed, brown hair, with fair skin and freckles. He looks like the Norman Rockwell boy.
The bidding jumps quickly to ninety thousand, but then starts to taper off.
“I want to win this bid too. Put two hundred thousand on the table now,” I say, trying not to growl.
“Yes, sir.” He must be used to my ways because he doesn’t even bat an eye.
“What the actual fuck?” Simon says in disbelief.
Thirty seconds later and I’m now the proud owner of Beth and some little boy.
Looking through the rest of the auction roster, nothing else stands out.
I’m already in way over my head, but fuck it. Sometimes you do what you must.
Standing back up from my chair, I walk over to the man and motion to the door for our cubicle.
“I’m done here.”
“Sir, the auction is still going on. I assure you there are more to bid on.”
Towering over him, I look down in his eyes. “I said I’m done.”
I’ll give the Russian prick some credit, he holds out on me for a full second before licking his lips nervously. “I will take you to processing now, yes?”
Motioning to the door, I say, “Yes. Get my client’s property ready for transportation.”
* * *
Simon continues to berate me as I stand quietly in a corner office, looking out the small dirty window. Walking to this office gave me a chance to look into the windows of others, and while I’m not the only person waiting in one of these booths, there aren’t that many other people.
Behind me, the door opens, and when I turn around I see Beth getting shoved into the office with a black hood over her head. Her body has finally been dressed in a hospital gown. The boy follows behind her in a pair of pajamas.
Fucking hell.
The little boy has his hands clutched tightly on her arm as he whimpers under his b
lack hood.
“Your property, sir,” my Russian aid says to me.
“Thanks. Can we leave now?”
I can see Beth’s shoulders jerk in response to my words. I don’t know if she recognized my voice, but something in her posture has changed.
Fuck, I need to get them out of here.
Nodding his head, he walks forward. He has two chain collars, the kind they put on dogs, in his hands. Dropping them over the two’s heads, he gives each attached leash a test pull.
The resulting gagging sounds turn my stomach into a raging inferno.
Snapping the leashes from his hands, I growl at him, “Do not harm my client’s property.”
Pulling on the leashes, I walk out of the office and head back down the hall they led me through. I don’t yank on the leashes, but I make sure they don’t have time to lag behind.
Marching through the warehouse then out into the pitch-black night, I head to my car. Keeping them close, I start muttering under my breath when I get close to the car. “I’m out. Two in tow.”
“Roger. One is out of building with two friendlies coming out.”
James’s voice comes through the comm. “Got two Russian dicks watching you through the windows. Another five surrounding the property.”
Getting to the Lexus, I push the boy into the backseat and fasten his seatbelt as quickly as I can. Then I grab Beth by the arm and pull her to the front passenger seat.
Whatever she thought when she heard me speak back in the office has been forgotten as she quietly tries to struggle out of my hands.
Her flight or fight response is kicking in as I open the car door.
Grabbing the top of the bag, I yank her head close to my lips and growl in her ear. “Beth, calm the fucking hell down.”
Her body goes limp and I’m thankfully fast enough to catch her. Lifting her in my arms, I settle her in the seat before strapping her into the car.
When I finally get into my seat, I let out a deep breath. Almost done here, I just need to get the fuck out of here.
In my mind, I feel like some Russian prick is watching us, lifting his automatic rifle to aim it at us as he gets an order to shoot.