by Nicole Fox
There are only three men in the room aside from the Tiger, but the space is so small that it feels like there are more of them. For a second, I am too overwhelmed to really see anything. I’m skimming the surface of the space, trying to get my bearings, to understand on some level what is happening to us. Then, I skim over his face.
His face.
Seeing it feels like hearing a long-forgotten line from my favorite book.
I know it instantly, and my heart swells with relief.
He blinks at me, but otherwise, his face is stoic, unruffled.
He has a beard now, and I realize that the man Annika described that night we were on the deck was Dmitry after all. He’s been here all along, ready to save me. Even when I didn’t know it.
My eyes fill with tears, and I want to cry, but I can’t. Not here. Not now.
I’m in Dmitry’s presence, and even though he’s clearly in disguise and in as much danger as I am, I feel safer with him around. I don’t want to do anything that would make the Tiger want to send me away.
The other two men at the table all but lick their lips as we line up in front of them, and even with Dmitry sitting five feet away from me, my stomach drops when I realize what this is.
“Well, men,” the Tiger says, shutting the door behind us. “Let the bidding begin.”
I try not to stare at Dmitry, but it’s difficult. I want to know if he has a plan. I want to know if he has enough to buy me, and what the plan is after that.
I don’t have Tati or Olivia with me, so we can’t just jump in a life raft and hope to hit land. Even if we do get to be alone together, what is the plan?
“Hey, where’s the other one?” the Tiger asks, gesturing to an empty chair in the corner.
The other man.
The one Dmitry killed last night to save Sadie.
My eyes widen in understanding, but Dmitry stays calm. He looks completely unaffected. The two men next to him shrug, and Dmitry just lolls his head to the side, looking kind of bored.
“I saw him shooting up in the stacks. If he hasn’t passed out from the heroin, he’ll be drunk by now. I doubt he’s going to make it.”
The Tiger frowns and then shrugs. “That’s fine. Three women for three men. It might not be as exciting, but this way, everyone will be happy.”
Clearly, the Tiger is not taking the feelings of the women into account, because we certainly will not be happy. I pray that Dmitry will win the auction, and I, at least, will be happy. For a little while.
“Can we call dibs?” a man with a thick mustache asks. It’s hard to tell in the dark, but he looks closer to my dad’s age than to mine. His eyes are pinned on Sadie.
“That is what the money is for.” The Tiger grabs Sadie’s shoulders and jerks her forward violently. “The bidding will begin at—”
“Wait,” the third sailor says. He’s a large, round man with ruddy cheeks. “Don’t we get to see what we’re bidding on first?”
“Put your glasses on and maybe you’d be able to see something,” the older sailor jokes. Dmitry laughs but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His hands are folded tensely in his lap.
The third man rolls his eyes and stands up. Suddenly, his attention catches on me, and his mouth falls open slightly. “I just want a little touch.”
The Tiger thinks about it for a second and then nods. “One minute.”
In an instant, the man is standing in front of me. He is oily and unshowered, and when his hand slides down my waist, I cringe away from him.
The man is not dismayed, however, and he slides his hand down further, resting on my hip for a moment before sliding across the front of my pajama pants. Just before his palm can find my center, I lift my own palm and slap him.
It wasn’t anything I planned to do. Simply an innate reaction to being sexually assaulted. I gasp as my hand connects with his face.
His entire face goes red. “You bitch.”
He lifts his hand, but before he can bring it down, The Tiger stops him with a quick tsk tsk.
“You buy it, then you break it,” he says sarcastically, gesturing for the man to back away. “No damaging the merchandise until it’s yours.”
The man’s nostrils flare as he glares at me, and I pray I won’t have to go anywhere with him. If I do, I’m not sure I’ll ever make it back.
When the man finally backs away and returns to his seat, I see Dmitry sitting on the edge of his. His hands are clamped on his thighs, his knuckles white. When he looks at me, I can see the fire burning inside of him. I tip my head forward slowly, trying to show him I’m okay, but he tears his eyes away as the Tiger once again claps his hands on Sadie’s shoulders.
“Enough delay,” he says. “Money out, men. It’s time to start.”
9
Dmitry
I make one starting bid on Sadie just to ease any suspicion that could arise, and then sit back and let Jake and the head chef bid on her.
I hope the chef will win. After the way he touched Courtney, there is no way I’ll be able to sit back and let them leave together. I’ll kill him and everyone else in the room before I let that happen.
He usually doesn’t join us for poker, but apparently the Tiger reached out to him personally about the auction. Now, his eyes are trained on my wife, and this entire auction feels like a terrible idea. I can’t believe I came up with it.
“Three hundred,” the Tiger says, waving a hand in front of Sadie like she’s the shiny new car on a game show. “Do I see three hundred?”
Jake raises his hand and wags his eyebrows in Sadie’s direction. She turns away to look at the floor, and the chef groans.
“Have her, Jake,” he says with a dismissive wave. “She isn’t worth it.”
I only have five hundred dollars in my pocket, so I hope the chef feels the same way about Courtney. Though, of course, he would be wrong. She’s worth everything.
“One snarky bitch to the snarky bitch,” the Tiger teases, pushing Sadie towards Jake.
Jake doesn’t seem to mind the insult and claps for himself, reaching out to grab Sadie’s hand and pull her into his lap. She sits stiffly, holding her head high even as Jake wraps his arms around her and curls his fingers up her thighs.
Sadie isn’t my wife. She isn’t really even my friend. And still, I want to break every single one of Jake’s fingers.
How much worse will it be if I have to watch Courtney be touched by someone else?
I grit my teeth and block the possibility from my mind. I’ll win. We’ll leave together and have an entire night. Everything will be fine.
The Tiger moves behind Courtney and reaches over her shoulder to grab a handful of her dark hair. He pulls it behind her shoulder. “This one is a fireball, and you can only hope she’s the same way in the bedroom. Let’s start the bidding a little higher at one hundred and fifty.”
“Here,” the chef says immediately, sitting up in his chair.
“Two hundred.”
I raise my hand.
Back and forth it goes, each of us increasing the bid by fifty without hesitation or pause.
“Five hundred,” the chef says, winking at Courtney before turning to raise a brow at me. “Will you challenge me, boy?”
Boy.
I should kill him just for that. If this chef had any idea who he was really talking to, he’d cower in fear. He’d beg me for mercy.
“Five fifty,” I say with a tip of my head.
I can find the money. Jake can spot me something. I’ll give the Tiger my—or rather, Andrew’s—next paycheck. I’ll sell the clothes on my back to the other sailors to make up the difference. I’ll figure it out.
“Five sixty,” the chef says, wavering for the first time.
Courtney’s eyes are wide, and I can see the fear in her face. I can’t fail her.
“Six hundred.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees, and wait for the chef to increase the bid. Wait for her to challenge me.
Instead, he growls in frustration and turn
s to look at the third woman standing in the row. She’s noticeably thinner than Sadie and Courtney. Her hair is thin and stringy, eyes sunken in. It looks like the chef would break her in half the moment they tried to touch.
“Fine,” he says, throwing up his hands and falling back in his chair. “The sickly one for cheap is better than the beautiful one for my entire savings. The way I do it, it won’t matter what she looks like anyway.”
The third girl shivers, and I don’t blame her. I’m only sorry she and Sadie will have to suffer for me to be with Courtney.
The Tiger claps his hands once. “Great. Hand over the money and take your prizes.”
Jake jumps up, his arm firmly around Sadie’s waist, and hands over his cash. I casually pull mine from my pocket and hand it to him in a wad.
My hopes fall when he begins to count it.
“You’re one hundred short,” the Tiger says.
Courtney was moving towards me, but now the Tiger’s arm is over her chest, holding her back.
“Then she’s mine,” the chef says immediately. “If he doesn’t have the money to pay, then he doesn’t get to play. I’ll take both women.”
“You wouldn’t know what to do with two women,” I snap. Then, I turn to the Tiger, my voice level. “I’ll pay you when I get paid next.”
He shakes his head.
“With interest,” I add.
“This isn’t a leasing program,” the chef shouts. “It isn’t rent-to-own. Either you have the money or you don’t.”
A hand claps on my shoulder, and I turn to see Jake looking at me, his mouth twisted in regret. “Sorry, man. But he’s right. You lost.”
The Tiger hands me my money and then pushes Courtney towards the chef, whose eyes are sparkling with excitement.
My heart is pounding in my chest, my fists clenched at my side, and my vision is going dark. I can’t see anything, can’t hear anything. Rage is flowing through me to the point I’m surprised smoke isn’t coming out of my ears.
“Don’t worry. I won’t be too rough,” the chef laughs.
Suddenly, I’m across the room with a fistful of the chef’s shirt in my hand. “I’ll fight you for her.”
He is surprised by my sudden movement, and then one of his thin eyebrows arches up. “You’re kidding.”
“If I win, then I get to take her with me. If you win, you keep them both.” I let go of his shirt and hold out my hand to shake. “Deal?”
He starts to shake his head, but before he can say anything, the Tiger barks out a laugh behind us. “I thought that auction was a bit too tame. This is exactly what we need. A little brawl to liven things up.”
I can tell the chef wants to refuse, but no matter how superior he feels, he knows the Tiger outranks him. If the Tiger wants to see a fight, he’ll see a fight.
His top lip pulls back in a sneer, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine.”
Courtney is standing with Sadie and Jake at the edge of the hold with the Tiger near the door, ensuring no one comes in to interrupt us. The third woman is leaning against a wooden crate, looking bored.
The room is small, which makes the chef look even larger. Standing across from me, he looks like a wild bear.
I assumed a lot of his girth was fat, but when he takes off his shirt to fight, I’m surprised by how solid he actually is. I still think I can beat him, but it may be tougher than I expected.
I peel my shirt off, too, and toss it to Courtney.
She catches it and the chef snorts like an angry bull. “She isn’t yours yet.”
“Yes, she is,” I say with a cocky smile. Courtney is mine. In every sense of the word. The ring on her finger is one I put there. I don’t need to pay for her affection, I already have it. If the chef knew who I was and who she is to me, he wouldn’t be fighting right now. He’d be begging for mercy on his knees.
“The rules are that there are no rules,” the Tiger says. He waves an arm. “Fight.”
Chef knows he’s larger than me, so he stands his ground, forcing me to approach him. I stay low, hands up and ready.
The room isn’t large enough to outrun him or tire him out. I’m going to have to fight hard and dirty.
As solid as Chef looks, he stumbles when I first strike him, and I quickly follow with a few quick jabs, giving him no time to reset.
He stumbles again, falling back into the wall, and I think that perhaps this fight will be over even faster than I anticipated, when suddenly, his body is hurtling towards me.
He used the wall as leverage to push himself forward, and I fall back, head slamming against the metal floor of the ship before I can understand what is happening. Then, there is a blow to my cheek.
Light explodes across my vision, but I have enough wherewithal to lift my hands and protect my face.
Chef is too heavy for me to roll him off me, but he’s balanced in a strange position, leaned slightly forward, and I see my opening. I pull my knee up hard and fast, catching him in the hamstring, and he has to stop hitting me long enough to catch himself before he falls. It gives me enough time to slam my hands into his chest and push him over.
He grumbles as he falls, and for the first time, his heft has given him the disadvantage. While he’s still trying to get himself up off the floor, I’m on my feet.
I move around behind him and kick him in the spine. He arches his back and falls again, this time flat on his stomach.
As he lifts himself, I wrap an arm around his neck and squeeze, tightening my hold with my right arm, and spreading my legs to brace myself.
Immediately, his hands tug at my arms, and he tries to break free, but I keep a firm grip, gritting my teeth against his struggles.
His fighting becomes weaker and, slowly, he slumps forward and to the floor.
I know he’s down, but I can’t make myself let go.
He had his hands on my wife. He wanted to take her back to his room and do God knows what to her. He is a piece of scum who wants to buy and sell women, and he deserves to die. That is all I’m doing. Delivering justice.
“Hey, man.” The Tiger tries to loosen my hold, but I don’t respond. I know I should, but I’m so close. Just another minute, and he’ll be dead. Sixty seconds. That’s nothing.
“Let go,” he warns, voice low and threatening. He kicks my leg, but I don’t feel it.
“Andrew,” Jake says. “Let him up.”
I’m going to do it. I’m going to kill the chef.
Then, I hear a female gasp.
I look up, remembering Courtney is in the room, but see Sadie instead. Jake is holding onto her, his hand spread across her hip. Her hand is over her mouth, eyes wide.
When I see Courtney standing next to her, she shakes her head slightly, calling me off, and I let go.
I fall back, pushing myself away from the chef, so I’m not tempted to grab him again.
“Shit,” the Tiger says, rolling the chef over onto his back. “I thought you were going to kill the poor bastard.”
I laugh but it’s humorless.
I want to kill them all.
The Tiger turns on me and lifts his foot as though he’s going to plant it on my chest. Before he can, I shove it aside and stand up.
I should be meek, quiet. I need to fly under the radar.
But my adrenaline is pumping, and I can’t remember the last time I was disrespected like this.
“Don’t fucking kick me,” I spit. “Don’t you dare.”
“You have no fucking idea—”
I catch sight of Courtney over the Tiger’s shoulder. Her eyes are wide, and she’s glaring at me, speaking volumes with no words at all.
“No fucking idea what?” the Tiger asks, puffing out his chest and getting in my face. “You may have taken down this fat sack of shit, but you don’t want to fight me.”
He is wrong. I do want to fight him. I want to kill him.
But I can’t.
Not yet.
I press my lips together and breathe slowly
out of my nose. I shake out my shoulders. “Adrenaline. Sorry.”
The apology is like acid in my mouth, but the Tiger steps away, somewhat appeased. “Take your bitches and go. I’m done dealing with you all tonight. Have them back at the poker room by sunrise.”
The Tiger grabs the third woman, who will no longer be going with the chef, and leads her out of the room without another word. Jake extends an elbow to Sadie, who does not accept and only goes with him when he grabs her arm. Then, Courtney and I are alone.
Despite the small size of the room, the distance between us seems insurmountable. She’s steps, yards, miles away from me, and I can’t fathom walking over and being able to touch her.
Then, a sob breaks out of her, and I’m across the room in an instant.
“I’m here,” I whisper, rubbing a hand across her dirty cheek. “I’m here. I’m sorry.”
She falls against me, and the feel of her body in my arms is familiar. She’s thinner than I remember, but she’s warm, and her cheek rests in the hollow of my neck perfectly.
“Come with me,” I whisper into her hair. “Let me take care of you.”
I walk her through a maze of hallways back to my room. Thankfully, my roommate is on duty for the night, so we have the place to ourselves. I pull Courtney into the small bathroom with me and begin to wash her.
Clearly, she hasn’t bathed or been taken care of in days, so I strip her clothes off and push her into the lukewarm water of the shower. She stands in the flow, her tears mixing with the water, and lets me wash her hair and lather soap over her skin.
I move gently, almost as though she’s a stranger.
How many days has it been since we’ve seen one another? I’ve lost track. It feels like years.
I dry Courtney off and help her dress in some of the clothes Andrew had packed.
“These aren’t yours,” she says, sniffing the shoulder of her shirt and frowning at me.