by Trent Evans
No way in hell are you getting that lucky.
But the fact that Derek was still there, and hadn’t fled the building in disgust, gave her hope. Perhaps her plan wasn’t as outlandish as she’d feared?
As twisted as it would sound to someone who didn’t understand, Kurt had done all of this for her. The least she could do was to be brave, endure, and meet the next few minutes with grace.
“Do I have further bids?” The man’s voice sent chills down her spine. It was definitely one of the voices from her first weekend here. “Price stands at one hundred twenty seven thousand.”
The man who’d bid that exorbitant amount, the hard, cruel man with the graying hair, took a step closer, his gaze locking upon her like an executioner regarding the condemned.
“I bid one hundred thirty thousand,” the young man said, grinning like a wolf at the older competitor. The older man blanched, stepping back and dropping his hand.
“One hundred thirty thousand then,” the man at the lectern intoned. “Any others?”
The crowd held its collective breath, the tension growing more unbearable by the second.
She watched Kurt say something to Derek, who looked back at him, eyes wide.
Oh my God. This can’t be happening.
Chapter Six
“I’m your friend. I’ll do anything for you, Kurt … but I’m not bidding on your goddamned wife.”
The night had begun strangely, and had now slid fully into all out surreal. Here he was standing in a barn full of complete strangers, looking upon a naked woman being sold at auction — a woman who happened to be his friend’s wife.
“If you don’t, then who knows who gets her?” Kurt’s voice lowered an octave. “I don’t know if I can take her going to some … stranger.”
“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before slapping a ‘for sale’ sign on her ass.”
Derek cringed as soon as he uttered the words.
Fucking motor mouth.
Truth be told, the visual image his words evoked disturbed him, bending her over, that breathtaking ass vulnerable, writing the words across her skin, then sending her on her way with a smack to her ass. Callous. Cruel.
“Do I have any other bidders? Do I hear one thirty five?” The man at the lectern slowly raised his gavel, his eyes scanning back and forth over the crowd.
“Derek, you’ve got to. I can’t stand the thought of her being away for months.”
“Dude, you set this up!”, Still feeling like half the house was watching both of them, Derek elbowed his friend. “She … agreed, right?”
“Yeah, but not to this. Place a bid, seriously.”
“With what money? That’s more money than I make in two years salary, dick.”
“You’ll have backing.”
“What the fuck?” Derek turned. Kurt smiled, giving him a quick nod. “Backing?”
“Backing. Come on, Derek.” Kurt lifted his chin toward the young man whose expression was a mixture of triumph and menace. “Don’t let that little prick turn her into his little toy.”
“And if I do? What then?”
Kurt’s eyes met his. “Then she’s yours to do with as you will.”
Derek looked to Breanna again, trying to keep himself from looking at her incredible breasts. Her eyes were still locked on the both of them. He wasn’t sure what he saw in those eyes. Fright? Pleading? Lust?
“Derek, it’s okay. Doesn’t the idea interest you? At all?”
Of course it did. Very much so. And that was entirely the problem. He knew it would just end in disaster, confusion, heartache — just like the last time.
“You have any idea how fucking awkward this is?” He didn’t really care anymore that the people around him were watching, whispering to each other at the spectacle. “She’s your wife.”
“And she’s about to be led off in chains to some little shit who has no idea what she needs, who won’t know what to do for her. Is that what you want?”
Goddamn him.
“Kurt, I—”
“I’ll help. It won’t just be you and her, Derek. Give this to her. Give this to yourself.”
As if he were a puppet, Derek’s hand raised, the design on the placard catching and reflecting the harsh light in a dazzling pattern. “One hundred … fifty?” He glanced at Kurt, who nodded, smiling. “One hundred fifty thousand.”
The young man spun on them with a baleful flash of cold eyes. “I bid―”
“Sold.” The gavel came down twice, a startled titter rippling through the crowd. “For a term of service of no less than thirty days.”
“What are you … you had other bidders!” The young man strode toward the lectern, waving his placard plaintively. “Why’d you close the bidding?”
The man at the lectern moved his baleful gaze to the brash young man. “The session observed no further bidders.”
“Me!” The boy stepped right up to the front, thrusting the placard in the older man’s face. “What about this don’t you understand, old man?”
The man at the lectern snapped a glance toward the back of the chamber. Derek looked back to see two pairs of black-suited men moving toward the front, the crowd wisely making way for them with alacrity. Then the older man turned to the angry young man. “You’re out of order. Step back, now.”
“Go fuck yourself.” He tossed the placard, bouncing it off the sloped lectern, to clatter against the wooden floorboards. “I’m sure my father will have something to say about this bullshit.”
The man at the lectern drew himself to his full height, and advanced on the young man. “We’ll be having a word with your father very soon, and we’ll ask him why he shouldn’t be sanctioned for the disgraceful behavior of his rogue son. Would you like that, boy?”
“W-what?” The color drained from the young man’s face. “No. That’s not—”
The massive men moved up to either side of the kid, but a quick negative movement of the older man’s head stopped them. “Then I suggest you step back, you foolish boy, and remove yourself from the premises. Your night is over, I should think.”
The older man swept an arm toward the stalls, tilting his head toward Breanna. “Take her to the pens. One hour display, no restrictions.”
Derek sank to his chair, the slap on his back from Kurt barely registering, as if his consciousness were fading slowly away. What in god’s name had he just done?
Realizing a fantasy you didn’t know you had.
He looked up at Kurt. The man’s lips were moving, his arm pointing toward the row of stalls, eyes dancing. But Derek wasn’t hearing any of it. This wasn’t going to work. Any of it. This train needed to stop. Now.
Standing, he dropped the odd placard to his seat, ignoring the people around him. A beautiful woman with raven black hair leaned into his aisle, reaching for him. Her smile was radiant. He passed her by as if she weren’t even there.
Finally, Kurt’s voice could be heard behind him. “Derek. Derek, what are you doing?”
“Leaving.”
Derek made his way to side, trying not to see the puzzled looks, the appraising glances. He looked around for an exit, any way to get outside, the massive barn seeming smaller by the second. What he’d done … he didn’t know what to think about it. Didn’t want to examine what it might mean. Not now. Maybe not ever. This was how things had fallen apart. Allowing himself to indulge this part of him, this … need.
Not again, goddammit. Not ever again.
Derek found the exit, not surprisingly guarded by more of the same black-suited tough guys.
A hand closed on his shoulder. “Derek, wait man. What the fuck are you doing?”
“I gotta get outside,” Derek growled, shaking off Kurt’s hand. “Let me go.”
He walked up to the two guards, who made no effort to allow him through.
Derek glared at them, the tension gathering in his muscles, preparing for a fight if it was required. “You guys gonna move? Or am I gonna move you?”
“It’s okay,” Kurt said from behind him. “Let him by boys. No problem here.”
The cold night air filled his lungs, innervating, and at the same time, calming. The fog had cleared and aside from a few lights in the small parking lot next to the barn, the night was inky black, the stunning panorama of the Milky Way arrayed across the sky.
The door closed behind Kurt, shutting out the low buzz of the crowd inside the building.
“You can’t … you can’t expect me just to jump into this without batting an eye, Kurt. This shit is heavy.”
“I know it.” Kurt walked past Derek, looking up at that incredible spray of stars. “I should’ve explained things to you better. But I thought just showing you would be better than explaining. Maybe I was wrong.”
Derek leaned against the dark, sleek plane of one of the cars in the parking lot. “This is a lot. A LOT for me to think about.”
“I know, especially considering … what you’ve been through.”
How would he know?
“What are you talking about, Kurt?”
Kurt turned back to him, his eyes lit with starlight. “Cassandra. The bitch fucked you up, royally.”
“I don’t want to talk about her, man.”
“Don’t you think we should?” Kurt moved to the car, leaning against it too, his arms crossed over his chest. “Christ, it’s fucking cold out here.”
“Should’ve picked a warmer spot for your little auction house.” He knew making light of this — any of this — was probably in extremely poor taste, but he wanted to steer the conversation in another direction. Talking about her wasn’t going to make any of this any better. Quite the contrary.
“This isn’t the only place like this. Not by a long shot, Derek.”
“Jesus, seriously?” He looked at Kurt, watched him peering up at the night sky once more, the starlight imbuing a ghostly illumination to the strong lines of his face.
“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you, my friend.” Kurt jerked a thumb toward the barn. “Bringing you in there was supposed to at least give you a hint at it though. Probably not the best idea I’ve ever had.”
Derek placed his palms against the freezing metal of the car, the cold making him shiver. “Just tell me one thing, Kurt. Is all of this … voluntary? This isn’t kidnapping, human trafficking shit is this?”
Kurt was silent a moment longer than Derek liked.
“Breanna wants this, if that’s what you’re wondering. I didn’t force this on her.” Kurt’s gaze lowered from the night sky, locking with Derek’s. “But if I wanted this for her, or anything else for that matter, she’d agree to it. Any of it.”
“I’m not sure … I don’t know what to think about that. It doesn’t feel right.”
Kurt’s head tilted. “Really? Now you tell me something. Why did Cassandra really leave you?”
Derek wasn’t sure whether he wanted to flee or put his fist through Kurt’s face. This was exactly the shit he didn’t want to be talking about, reopening old wounds not quite scarred over.
“I told you already. I don’t want to fucking talk about it.”
“She freaked out didn’t she?”
“No.” Derek shook his head. “Yes. Christ, why are you picking at me on this? Why does this matter?”
“Because it does. Who you really are matters a great deal. It’s why I showed you all of this, asshole.”
“She — I have no idea why I’m telling you this — she told me I was wrong for her.” Derek pushed himself away from the car, his ass numbed from the freezing metal. “She was right, really. Probably the best thing for her.”
“Stop being a pussy and tell me what she said. Come on.”
Derek turned on his friend. “You getting some kinda sick thrill from dredging this shit up again? Why? I tell you I don’t want to talk about it, and still you keep going!”
“Tell me, Derek. You need to say it as much as I need to hear it.” Kurt’s jaw clenched, but his eyes were sympathetic.
“Fine, you want to hear it? Fine.” Derek began pacing along the car, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “I told her what I really wanted. Told her I wanted to be in charge — of everything.”
“That’s it?”
“Shut-up, there’s more.” Derek shot a hard look at his friend. “You asked for it.”
“So I did,” Kurt said, holding up a hand with a smile. “Sorry.”
“At first she seemed maybe open to it. She wasn’t repulsed or anything. Then I told her about … ”
“Sex.”
Derek exhaled harshly, his breath almost a wheeze. “Yeah, that part. Fuck, to her it was like I told her I wanted to chop her up and store her in the freezer.”
He still felt the pain of it, the shame of that rejection. All the fears he’d ever had about being broken, a freak of nature, all of them had flooded back as he’d stood there in their kitchen and listened to her scream and rant at him.
“It was … it sucked, Kurt. She said I was a sick fuck, should have my head examined. Deviant. Perverted. You name it.”
“Jesus,” Kurt breathed, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, man.”
Her words had stung, yes, but more than that fact, he’d feared she was somehow right. Deep inside, he’d wondered if it wasn’t simply the sting of truth. That possibility made him sick. What if all of it had been a giant, twisted charade, an exercise in his selfish quest to ape being “normal”? Yet, he’d been ready, wanting to open himself up to the possibility that perhaps he wasn’t the aberration he’d feared he might be. But when he’d walked out onto that limb, she’d chopped it out from under him. Cruelly. Viciously.
And it wasn’t until that very moment, as he paced under the breathtaking luminescence of those stars that he’d realized he’d never recovered from it.
“Do you see it now though?” Kurt’s voice was softer, barely audible over the rumble of noise from inside the barn. “You know now, don’t you?”
“Kurt, the only thing I know now, is that I’m fucked up. Badly.”
“She fucked you up, Derek. You didn’t start that way.”
Derek shoved his hands in his pockets, propping a boot on one of the tires of the car. It was a dark BMW, the fucking door on it likely worth more than his life. “How the hell would you know?”
“Because I’m just like you. And once you find the right situation, the right woman, you’ll understand.”
“Understand what?” It was Derek’s turn to stare up into a sky so immense the awe of it washed over him, drawing the very breath from his lungs. How many other Dereks were out there, tiny specks of consciousness wondering why the hell they existed? Pondering what the point of all of this was?
“That there are those who were made for you, that complement you, that need what you have to give.” Kurt laid a palm on Derek’s shoulder. “And then you’ll understand why you’re here.”
“I’ve never known the answer to that.”
“You’re about to find out, Derek.”
Derek grunted. “And how’s that?”
“By getting your ass back in there.” Kurt smiled. “Time to claim your prize.”
Chapter Seven
Never before had she so fervently wished for a blindfold, even a hood. Anything to spare her the mortification of her current predicament. The goons had frog-marched her through the crowd along the stalls, her hobbled feet completely unable to keep up with their long strides. She’d tried to not to see what was going on in the stalls she passed, did all she could to tune out the hushed commentary about the attributes of her physique from passersby.
She’d succeeded until a frightening man had ordered the two guards to halt. They’d turned her to this strange man, and she’d frozen as his hard hands took the weight of her swaying breasts, pinched her nipples until they stood hard. His keen eyes had stared into hers as he’d done this, his growled warning to her to look at him an order she knew must be obeyed. He’d trailed a single finger through the folds of her
sex, bringing it to his mouth to taste. Then as quickly as it had begun, he’d dismissed her with a slap to her breast, the stinging blow sending the vulnerable globe swinging.
Hustled along once more, she’d spotted Lino, and for once, the sight of the man inspired relief rather than fear. She’d take the “evil” she knew, infuriating though he might be, over the unknown.
This time, he’d bound her differently within one of the stalls. She’d had one last longing look at the bar the stretched across the back of the small space, knowing that even bent over it, she’d still have the illusory comfort of being able to conceal her face. But it wasn’t to be.
“No hiding this time, fulana.” Lino roughly forced her to her knees, unlocking her cuffs, then wrapped her arms even tighter behind her back, heavy, pungent leather encircling them. She’d grunted as he forced her arms higher just to the point of discomfort, then loosening them a fraction less than that. She didn’t even want to think about how she looked then, how the position threw out her breasts into exaggerated prominence. Once he’d cinched the last buckle of the harness, she knew she might as well have a fucking neon sign over her breasts.
Free Tits! All you can eat!
He chucked her under her chin. “Be good. If they want to touch, you don’t fight. If I hear you have?” His whip caressed one of her nipples, and she held her breath. “Then you’ll get more of this.”
She stared up into his smiling brown eyes. He’d be a handsome man in another situation, another world. But here, he was retribution personified, the effect to her cause. She knew he meant every word, and she nodded meekly, even if inside she pictured introducing that whip to his testicles.
He left her there on her knees, her breasts on display like melons at a produce stand. People walked by her stall and she looked away when they lingered, willing them to move on, leave her at peace. Though the auction itself was every bit as disturbingly hot as her fantasies had prepared her for, the aftermath had been like a splash of ice-cold water, a shock to her senses.