by Geri Glenn
Astor
After proving my virginity, the two men leave me alone in the cold room once again. After pulling my pants back on, I curl into the corner, my knees hugged tight to my chest, and I cry. I cry in defeat. I cry in shame, and I cry at the fact that I know without a doubt that Vincent is never going to let me go. I knew it the moment he’d heard I was a virgin. Dollar signs might as well have sprung into his eyes like a cartoon character.
Eventually, I’ve cried every tear I have left in me. I fall asleep that way. I’m curled on the cold stone floor, still wearing the nightgown I’d gone to sleep in two nights ago, but it’s not white anymore. The lace is covered in brown smears, and my tears have stained the material covering my chest.
I wake to the sound of a key once again going into the lock. I don’t have time to stand before the door is opening, so I press myself farther into the corner, wishing for the gift of invisibility. To my surprise, it’s a woman that enters the room.
“Hello,” she greets with a pleasant smile, as if she hasn’t just walked into the room I’m being held captive, but as if she’s meeting me for a cup of coffee at some fancy coffee shop. When I don’t answer, her smile fades a little. “Your name is Astor, right?”
I slowly come to my feet, my eyes on the open door behind her.
“I wouldn’t,” she warns quietly. “There are two armed guards out there, and even if you made it past them, there are dogs. Lots of them.”
For the first time, I meet the girl’s eyes and see the sadness in them. She’s wearing a dog collar around her neck. “Where am I?” My voice is scratchy from crying and screaming, and my body trembles from the cold in the air.
Her shoulders lift in a sad shrug. “I was blindfolded the day they brought me here. That was years ago…” She cocks her head to the side. “I think. I stopped keeping track of time.”
“What do they want from me?” She presses her lips together in a tight line.
“These men, Astor…they’re businessmen, but their business is bad,” she whispers. “They sell women. A lot of them. I was sold a long time ago, but the man who bought me couldn’t pay up, so Vincent took me back. I’ve worked here ever since.”
It amazes me she can tell me this with so much strength. Her voice, though sad, doesn’t waver.
“So, what is it that you do now?” I ask, not so sure I want to know the answer.
“Well, I get new girls ready for their pictures, which is what you and I are going to do now. I also service the men on the compound, if they decide they like the look of me.”
I blink at her. “Service?”
The woman nods and confirms my worst fear. “Sexually.”
I shudder. “Have you tried to get away from them?”
The sad smile is back on her face as she takes a step closer and tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “There’s no getting away, Astor. None. Many women have tried, but not one’s ever made it.”
I sink down onto the bed and clasp my hands between my knees. “What do they want from me?”
“Honey,” she says, taking a seat beside me and clasping my hand in hers. “You’re all they’re talking about. I’m here to get you ready for your photo shoot, and Javier is already getting the website updated with your info. You’re going up for auction…tonight.”
Cory
I press the barrel of my gun deeper into the man’s temple and ask again through gritted teeth, “Where did DeCarlo take the girl, Reggie?”
“Fuck, man,” he mutters, trying like hell to shrink farther away from the gun, but the brick wall behind him makes escape impossible. “I told you, I don’t fucking know. The boss is very private about that shit. Only certain guys know where he takes them.”
I’d prepared ahead of time for that answer. Holding up a picture of Reggie’s wife, I pull the gun away and use the barrel of it to tap on the image of her face. “Your wife’s a lovely woman.”
“Please, no,” he begs. “I swear, I don’t know anything. All I know is he has the girl and he’s got her protected. Says she’s gonna bring him in a fortune.”
Using a carefully controlled tone, I ask, “Bring him a fortune? You mean, he’s gonna sell her?”
Reggie swallows hard, his entire body trembling as he nods his head. “He always does.”
My vision clouds with my rage and my chest aches as I struggle to maintain my cool. My eyes lock on his, like a set of high-power magnets as I push the picture of his own wife directly into his face. “You love your woman?”
Reggie closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before nodding his head.
“I have two men sitting outside of your house as we speak with eyes on your lady. I just have to give the word, and depending on what it is, she either lives or she dies.” Reggie’s gaze darts from me to the picture of his high school sweetheart. “You find my woman, Reggie, and I’ll let you keep yours. Deal?”
“But—”
I cut off his protest by slowly and deliberately stepping into his space, my nose only inches from his. “You have four hours to get me that location.”
Astor
“I’m not wearing that.” I stare down at the barely-there negligee dangling from Natalie’s fingers. Over the last hour, we’d gotten to know each other a little as she’d bathed me, done my hair, and plastered makeup on my face. I’d learned her name was Natalie St. John, and that she’s been the property of Vincent DeCarlo for more than eight years now. I’d learned that she’d been in law school when they’d taken her as she walked home from the library late one night.
“You must, honey. It’s what he wants.”
Nausea rolls through my empty stomach. “It hides nothing.”
Natalie lets out a long, low sigh, her shoulders rounded as she holds it out to me again. “That’s the point, I’m afraid. Please, don’t fight this. It will be so much worse if you do.”
Tears prick from my behind my eyelids, and my arm feels like lead as I lift it and take the tiny garment from her hand. With Natalie’s help, I manage to get the little outfit on, just as the door swings open.
A low whistle sounds throughout the tiny room as Vincent’s eyes rake over my body, taking in my new makeup, sultry up-do, and now, my tiny nightie that barely conceals the dark roundness of my nipples.
“You look good enough to eat,” he says, flashing his teeth at me in a wolfy smile. I don’t answer him. I just peer sightlessly at the wall directly behind him, my heart thudding dully in my chest. Vincent doesn’t seem to notice, or care.
He holds the door open and motions for us to pass. “Come. We have the studio all ready for you.”
I don’t move an inch until Natalie takes my hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze as she tugs me through the door and down the hall behind Vincent. We don’t have far to go. The studio is set up just two doors down from us, and as I enter, I realize just how serious of a business Vincent is running down here.
Professional photography equipment is scattered throughout the room. Tall lamps and tripods, reflectors and drop cloths are everywhere. Behind it all is a small man with thick glasses and a dead stare. He shows zero emotion as I step inside. The tears that are always present now, fall over the edge and slip down my cheeks.
“No crying,” he snaps. “I can only edit out so much. Tears are a pain in the ass. Now,” he says, pointing to a chair covered in faux fur in the center of it all. “Go lie down in that chair.”
Please, don’t fight this. It will be so much worse if you do. Natalie’s words from before replay in my mind, and with one look at Vincent, I know she’s right. If I fight him on this, it won’t end well for me.
With weak knees and heat burning my face, I slowly walk to the chair and sit on the edge. The faux fur isn’t as soft as it looks, and it scratches the bare skin of my upper thighs and buttocks. The camera flash blinds me as it goes off over and over again. The photographer orders me to sit in different poses, and I do so, fighting back the burning shame I feel as Vincent leers at me from the c
orner.
The final shot is one I almost fight over. He orders me to put my foot up on the edge of the chair, spreading my knees wide. He then takes my hand and positions it over my mound, with my other hand cupping my own breast.
My hands tremble, and I look away from the camera, wishing more than anything that all of this is just one very bad dream. When my eyes meet Natalie’s, she gives me a smile and a nod that I’m sure is meant to be encouraging, but actually just breaks what is left of my spirit into a million, tiny little pieces.
To see this woman, one who was once destined for a career as a lawyer, encouraging me to do something so degrading, so personal, believing more than anything that it’s for my own good is the final nail in the coffin for my faith in the human race. I don’t blame Natalie. I blame Vincent. He’s conditioned her to think this way. He’s conditioned her to be his slave, and conditioned her to like it.
As Natalie wraps a small robe around my shoulders, I can hear the two men standing over the camera.
“Great shots. Damn, she is one sexy little thing, isn’t she?”
The photographer smirks in my direction. “I might be putting in a bid or two of my own.”
Vincent laughs, like this is the most hilarious thing he’s heard all week and claps a hand on his shoulder. “You do that. But first, get these shots up to Javier so he can get the auction up and running.”
Astor
I don’t sleep well that night. I’d been left alone in my room, still wearing that ridiculous excuse for a nightgown. I’d allowed myself to cry, but those tears were ghost tears. There wasn’t enough moisture left in my body to properly form real ones, but the sobs and emotion were there.
The next morning, Natalie returns to my room, this time with a change of clothes and a warm breakfast. Surprisingly, I’m not hungry, but I practically snatch the clothes from her hands the moment I lay eyes on them.
Once I have the jeans and T-shirt on, I feel more like myself. “Eat up,” Natalie says. “Vincent will be here any minute, and he expects you to be ready to go.”
I blink back at her, not sure I heard her right. “Go? Go where?”
Natalie’s sad smile makes another appearance. “I’m sorry, Astor.”
“Tell me,” I snap, tired of the mystery that surrounds this entire operation. “Please. I can’t take any more surprises.”
Natalie’s eyes fall closed for a beat before she opens them and meets my gaze. “I heard Vincent talking on the phone a little while ago. I didn’t hear much, but I heard him say something about Lucifer’s Bastards. He said he was moving you to a secondary location because the Bastards somehow learned you may be here, and they’re not happy.”
Cory. My hand flutters up to my chest as I try to contain the small bloom of promise I feel growing there. Cory’s looking for me. Cory knows I’m here.
In that moment, I know exactly what I need to do. I need to stall. I need to buy as much time as possible, to give Cory and his friends time to get here and—
The door opens before I can even finish that thought. “Come,” Vincent orders, standing in the doorway like the angel of doom.
“But I haven’t eaten yet,” I say softly, unable to meet his gaze, for fear he’d catch onto my play.
“You can eat when we get there,” he replies. “Now come.”
My gaze darts to Natalie, who just motions me forward with a flick of her eyes. I look back at Vincent and stand tall, my feet planted in place. “No.”
The shock on his face doesn’t go unnoticed, but it also doesn’t last long. “Don’t fight me on this, Astor,” he says. “You will lose.”
“I’m not going anywhere else with you,” is all I say.
Vincent’s shock turns to anger. “Fine,” he grounds out through gritted teeth. “We’ll do it the hard way then.”
He steps back into the hall and slams the door behind him. The feeling of victory sets my heart soaring, but Natalie brings it back down with one word. “Why?” she says in a shocked whisper. “Why did you do that?”
“He’s a monster, Natalie. A mon—”
Three men are in the room before I can finish that sentence. I fight. I fight like hell. I scream and kick, punch and bite, but my attempts at protecting myself are futile. Before I know it, I’m bound, gagged, and blindfolded, then tossed into the trunk of a car, again.
Cory
“What the fuck is this place, man?”
“Looks like a goddamn meat market to me,” Grizz offers, looking around the room filled with women. They all sit on the floor, their dead eyes on us, none of them able to answer the questions we’ve been drilling them with for the last twenty minutes.
I kneel in front of the young woman who seems to be in charge. “Where is Astor?”
A tear slips down her cheek, and she refuses to meet my gaze. “He took her. He heard you were coming and he took her.”
I pinch my lips together and attempt to rein in my frustration. “Took her where?”
“I don’t know,” she sobs.
“I think I might,” Butch says as he walks into the room, a laptop in his hand. “I don’t know where he took her, but I have a pretty good idea why.”
He sets the laptop on the table in front of me and wipes away a splatter of blood. I don’t know who’s blood it is, but at this point, I don’t care. The only thing I care about are the pictures on the screen. Pictures of Astor. She’s practically naked, her eyes sad. And beside her picture is a number, and that number is steadily rising before my eyes.
“He has her virginity up for auction.”
Astor
“Put this on,” Vincent says, tossing yet another skimpy outfit in my direction. We’re in a motel this time, and a questionable one, with mold on the window sills and stains on the carpet. “We’re going live in ten minutes.”
I don’t pick up the outfit, and I don’t move an inch. “Live?”
Vincent grins. “You’re a star, baby. Your auction is getting more hits than any other girl before you. We’re gonna sweeten the pot by having a live feed, where guys can ask you to turn certain ways or bend in others. The men go fucking crazy for that shit. Now go.” He flicks his hand toward the bathroom door. “Change your clothes.”
I bend forward and snag the outfit off the ground, but before turning to go into the bathroom, I meet Vincent’s gaze and stare brazenly back at him. “Cory will find me, you know.” Vincent’s jaw ticks, but he doesn’t answer. “He’s going to find me, and he’s going to kill you.”
I don’t really know what Cory will do if he finds us, or if he’s even still looking for me, but given Vincent’s reaction, I’ve said the right thing. Fear is often masked by anger. He storms toward me, grabbing me by the upper arm and shoving me inside the bathroom. “Change your fucking clothes.” And with that, he slams the door shut.
I stand in the bathroom, holding the teeny little dress—if it could be called that—in my hands and think about what Vincent wants me to do. A live feed? He wants me to pose and bend over for a bunch of horny men that are willing to pay to rape away my virginity. I can’t. There’s no way I can bring myself to do it. Vincent will have to shoot me before I put on this outfit and go out there in front of the camera.
The gentle chirp of a song bird sounds from my left, and I pull back the shower curtain to discover a small window, set high in the wall. My eyes dart to the door and my ears strain to hear any sounds from the main room. Vincent and Javier are talking, getting the website ready to go.
My gaze slides back to the window. It’s too small for a grown woman to crawl through. Luckily, I’m smaller than the average grown woman. Stepping up on the edge of the tub, I stretch my arms and slide the window up. It’s filthy and covered in watered-down dust, but thankfully, the moisture from the shower makes it go up without a sound.
I’m going to have to jump to get my body on the edge to hoist myself up and out, and if I miss, it’s going to make more noise than I can afford. Vincent will hear it for sure. I only
have one shot at this.
Balancing on the edge of the tub, I bend my knees and raise my arms, ready to scramble my way up and over the lip of the window. My knees shake and my heart thrums inside my chest. I take a deep breath, and then I jump.
My chin hits the track of the window at the same time my fingers do. Pain shoots through my jaw, and as I hang from the window by my fingertips, I feel the blood trickling down my neck, but I don’t waste a single second.
Using every ounce of strength I can muster, I pull and heave, using my feet on the wall to push my body up and over the edge of the window. When half of me is outside, I look down at the ground below. Lucky for me, we’re on the first floor, but the window is still really high.
A knock on the door startles me, nearly sending me headfirst out the window. “Two minutes, Astor. Get a move on.”
I lean back into the room as far as I can and call back, “Almost done.” I screw my eyes shut and wait, sure that the high tone in my voice has given me away. When it’s clear that Vincent has gone back to his chat with Javier, I go back to my current situation.
Squeezing my leg into the window with my shoulders is nearly impossible. It’s an act of contortion, and I force it through until I have a leg on either side, and am able to sit up a little. Slowly and carefully, I ease my other leg out and lower my body from the window, until I’m dangling above the brown grass that surrounds the motel.
Finally, I let go, and my knees buckle as my feet hit the ground, but I roll with it, tumbling a little until I come to a stop. I’m out. Rejuvenated by adrenaline, my heart races as I jump to my feet and scan the area around me. There are more woods to the right, and a convenience store to the left. Directly behind the motel is a freeway.
I glance down at my feet that had already been torn up during my run through the woods the other night and weigh my options. I don’t think my feet can handle another trek into the wilderness. The convenience store is likely the first place Vincent and his cronies will search. That leaves the freeway.