Sold to the Hottest Bidder

by Layla Valentine

  Outside, the van was too far away. The sidewalk was full of people who were staring and pointing. My name was being uttered like a soft chant among the crowd: “Alice, Alice Pryce.”

  But Jake’s hand was a shackle around my wrist, throwing me into the front seat and slamming my door. After running around and hopping into the driver’s seat, he slammed his foot on the gas and the van took off down the street. Far-off sirens wailed, but the van was careening in the opposite direction. Jake was forced by red lights and cars to slow down, and he maneuvered onto sidewalks when there wasn’t enough room on the road. The far-off sirens were constant; they knew where we were going even when we didn’t.

  Blocks and city streets merged into one never-ending obstacle course, where every car was too slow and every pedestrian was just fast enough to get in the way. But our advance was relentless. Jake drove purely with the gas, letting up to break but never stopping, always careening and wheeling around cars coming from the opposite direction at the last second.

  I was so harried that, even by the time we were out of the city and on the highway, my head was swiveling from one window to another, searching for the cops who were bound to still be on our tail. After a few more minutes, however, I sank back in the seat as the enormity of what had just happened settled upon me.

  “What…was that?” I asked.

  Jake kept his eyes on the road and didn’t even look at me.

  “Owed a guy a favor.”

  I eyed his cool profile incredulously.

  “You owed a guy a favor. That’s it?”

  Jake twisted his head to look at me, and his face was once again a tense mask of rage.

  “I don’t have to explain anything to you, princess. You weren’t even supposed to be here, remember? What were you thinking? You almost got yourself killed!”

  Under the furious inquisition of his emerald eyes, I could only lower mine.

  “I…don’t know,” I admitted, turning to stare out the window.

  “Why didn’t you escape?” he asked, more quietly this time.

  The same answer popped into my mind, but I didn’t bother saying it. I kept my gaze on the clear, oblivious sky, which knew as much as I did. Why on earth had I felt drawn to the one man who had done this to me when the obvious thing to do would have been to run away, escape? What was wrong with me?

  During the rest of the ride, the sky went from light blue and clear to gray-clouded and drab. Some trees and buildings and more roads rolled past, and still Jake’s unanswered question filled the car. Why hadn’t I escaped? Even once we’d gotten back to the cabin, it followed us up the steps and inside. I sat down on the couch and Jake sat beside me. His face was expressionless; what would happen next was anyone’s guess.

  Suddenly, he rose and walked upstairs. I heard the sounds of shuffling and furniture being moved, and then Jake appeared at the top of the steps with an old box TV in his hands. I got up to help, but Jake only shook his head as he continued to descend the steps.

  Placing the TV in front of the couch, Jake plugged the cord into a socket in the wall and then walked over and pressed a button on the top. The screen flashed to life, showing…us. It was footage from the bank: Jake and the others in ski masks and my small, tentative form. Jake pressed another button and the TV’s sound blared to life. He flopped onto the couch beside me, and we watched as a presenter with a bushy beard spoke in front of the footage of the Bank of the West. It was surreal, watching ourselves like this.

  “Bungled bank robbery in downtown Denver this morning, where one thief mysteriously pulled out and fled at the last minute.”

  A picture of me from happier times flashed on the screen.

  “But what is puzzling police the most is the apparent involvement of Alice Pryce, daughter of superstore magnate Heston Pryce, whose kidnapping, earlier this week, has been a high priority for local and state police.”

  They showed more footage of the bank robbery, with my wandering, disheveled form.

  “In the video, it appears that Ms. Pryce is familiar with the robbers, and she even escapes with one of them. Gail, over to you.”

  A scowling woman with a bun so tight it looked like it was pulling up all the features of her face appeared on the screen. Her voice was high and nasal.

  “Well, Ronald, this has some wondering about the validity her alleged kidnapping.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “Well, some are positing that it might all be a hoax on Ms. Pryce’s part to avoid responsibility for her involvement in this criminal gang, this group of individuals who attempted to rob the Bank of the West this morning.”

  “Well, that is a theory. What about the robbers themselves? Any information on their identities?”

  “Not at present, but police are asking anyone with any information at all to come forward. In fact, Heston Pryce himself is offering a 10,000-dollar reward for anyone with information on his daughter’s kidnapping or whereabouts—”

  Jake got up, pressed a button on the top of the TV to turn it off, and then flopped back on the couch. We didn’t say anything for a minute.

  “Who’s paying you?” I asked softly, but he only shook his head.

  “I call him Sunshine and he calls me Green Eyes.”

  I nodded and glanced over but couldn’t make out the expression on Jake’s face. He wouldn’t just keep me here indefinitely, would he? Suddenly, the whole situation seemed terrifyingly real, and words spilled out of me.

  “When are you going to bring me home? My father, my friends, they must be so scared…”

  I glanced over again, but Jake was staring at the blank screen of the TV.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could return you home. The job’s almost over; I’m sure you father will pay up soon. I’m sorry.”

  All of this he said in a dead, cold voice, as if he were reading lines from a movie script. I stood up.

  “Sorry isn’t good enough, Jake.”

  After staring into his eyes for a moment, I turned on my heel and left.

  I walked into the forest, not seeing where I was going and not caring. I walked not to go anyplace but to get away. From that cabin, that man—that selfish beast of a man who was systematically destroying my life piece by piece.

  It was already getting dark out, but I didn’t care. Let it rain, let it pour, let it hail for all I cared. At least then the weather would match how I felt. The whole forest was alive with the upcoming storm. Birds squawked, squirrels and mice chattered, trees creaked, and on I walked. I slammed my feet into the dirt, tripping over tree roots and getting my feet entwined in thick ivy. I didn’t care. I wouldn’t stop, or couldn’t.

  The rain finally came, the sky going black. I didn’t care. Let the icy drops dash against my face. Let them slide with the angry tears spilling down my cheeks. Let my legs run on and on and on, achingly, trippingly so.

  The forest was black. The trees were blacker, but my eyes were blurry—the very air was blurry.

  My legs were fast becoming dead. It was so cold, so very cold. Each raindrop was like an icicle, but I couldn’t stop. I ran through the darkness, seeing nothing and feeling nothing but those deathly cold drops, the coldest I’d ever felt.

  At some point, my legs stopped, and a cold, wet mass of moss was my pillow. I couldn’t move. Huddled in a ball, my legs numb, images rolled in and out of my mind. Papa holding my mother’s lifeless body in the hospital. The dean of Brown University’s double chins jiggling as he handed me my diploma. A little girl running after me, her arms extended with the whole flag of Sierra Leone on her back. Paul’s empty, lifeless smile. The smell of Lux’s ever-changing hair dye. How Jake’s lips had felt on mine…

  Chapter Ten

  Jake

  The storm was going to let up and Alice was going to come back. I glanced out the window and told myself this for the fifth time. But what if it doesn’t and what if she doesn’t? the insidious voice inside my head asked.

  Pip barked, and I walked out the front
door. Damn, it was coming down pretty hard. If she was as reckless and as furious as she had looked when she had stormed out, it wouldn’t be hard for her to get lost.

  I went back to the couch and sat down. There was no point in worrying; it’d been less than half an hour. The storm was going to let up, and she was going to come back. She had to. I cooked some ramen I’d found in the back of the pantry, saving a bowl for her. As I sat and ate, Pip came up and pawed my leg anxiously. Even from where I was sitting, I could see Gerald staring at me with accusation in his black little eyes. Pip trotted to the door and started whining. Then she ran back and scratched at my leg again.

  Finally, with a sigh, I rose.

  “Okay, you win. What is it, girl?”

  When I opened the door, she ran out. I sighed. Running upstairs, I grabbed a raincoat and then set out behind Pip. As soon as she saw me, she took off, setting off into an unfamiliar patch of trees.

  “Pip!” I yelled soon after, but already she was just a whitish blur at the edge of the rain.

  As I ran after her, cold raindrops slapped across my hands and face. But I didn’t slow down. I was starting to have a really bad feeling about this.

  The forest was a nearly impenetrable black. Several times I realized I was about to run into a tree only moments before actually doing so. Everything seemed to want to stop me. The branches all extended out at me, the shrubs snagged on my pants and jacket, the tree roots angled out when I least expected them, and the rain dashed against my face with increasing intensity.

  But there was a black hole inside of me, blacker than this night, colder than this rain, worse than anything Mother Nature could throw at me. It was the possibility of losing her, of never again seeing that crinkled, laughing face, those dancing, vibrant blue eyes, that sprinkle of freckles on her nose.

  No, I would run as long as it took, venture on as far as I needed. Anything to get to Alice, to bring her back to me. My legs plodded on, becoming increasingly numb and as foreign to me as sticks, but there would be no stopping. I had to find her.

  Finally, when my legs had just about given out, when my breath had started coming out in gasps, I came upon her. Pip. She was whining, pawing at something in the grass. Something so black it almost merged with the ground. A curled-up ball of a person. One series of shivers. Alice.

  Immediately, I picked her up and pressed her to me. I took off my coat and shirt and threw them over her body.

  Her eyes were closed.

  “Alice? Alice?”

  Her eyelashes fluttered, but her eyes stayed closed.

  I picked her up and started to run, carrying her limp body. Pip galloped on ahead, the light at the end of my dark forest tunnel. She knew the way; she’d show me the way home. I’d make it—I had to. Somehow, carrying Alice, as freezing as I was, I felt light, airy. Everything was numb, so maybe that was why it was easier. I wanted to kiss her, but it could wait.

  She had to be all right.

  My legs flew on, and my only thoughts were to go faster, to throw my legs ahead farther, to not stop for a second. I had Alice in my arms, and she was still shivering, but she was there. I couldn’t lose her, not now. As I ran, I knew only this: If I lost her, everything would be lost.

  Pip was always just out of sight, waiting for me around the latest mass of trees, the single flash of light in this forest of black. Ever running, ever chasing, I followed without expecting to stop, without needing to. As long as I had to run to keep Alice alive, I would. Then, finally, the white was joined by less black. The cabin. I was there.

  Inside, Alice and I were one shiver, but I couldn’t stop walking now. I carried her upstairs, put her in my bed, and wrapped her in every blanket I had. After a minute, her shivers stopped and she fell into a restless sort of breathing. She was okay. I lay down beside her, closed my eyes, and thanked my lucky stars.

  I awoke to her soft breath. Tickling my lips, it smelled like vanilla. When I opened my eyes, hers were closed. She was smiling slightly.

  “Alice?” I said.

  She didn’t stir. Light was slanting in through the window. My limbs were still numb and achy.

  So I lay there, watching that soft breath slip in and out of those parted lips. I didn’t know how long I lay there, only that, at some point, with one eye squinting open, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  Sitting up and glancing away, I said, “Nothing.”

  Alice only gave a sleepy nod and pushed herself upright beside me. Her lids still half-lowered with sleepiness, she brushed her fingers across mine.

  “Your hand…”

  To her inquisitive glance, I gave a flippant nod. When her drowsy smile fell, with a sigh, I told her the story.

  “One day when I was a kid, I acted up. My dad got really angry at me and smashed my hand into the wall. I had to go to the ER afterward. He told them I fell.”

  Now her drowsy smile was a full-on expression of horror. Her eyes filled with tears, Alice took my scarred hand and ran her fingers across it once more.

  “Jake, I…I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

  I withdrew my fingers and got out of bed.

  “Yeah. I guess this fits your hard life expectations better, doesn’t it?”

  Alice winced as if she had been struck, and I made for the door. In the doorway, I paused.

  “Want to play Guess Who?”

  “What?”

  I turned to see Alice’s face as puzzled as her voice had sounded.

  I addressed my answer to the slant of light falling on the floor.

  “You know, the board game thing. Tom—one of my weird-ass friends—left it here. We like to get really drunk and play it.”

  To her still-confused look, I continued. “You can play it sober, too, though. We can—if you want. I’ll make some breakfast. Might have some instant coffee left too if you’re okay with it black.”

  She nodded slowly.

  “All right. Why not? And yeah, I’m starving.”

  I escaped to get the supplies. I had enough coffee left for exactly two mugs, and there was some old but still good peanut butter to put on the last two pieces of bread I toasted. I found the game stashed away in my kitchen cupboard among strange bowls and stranger books I didn’t remember buying.

  I carried everything upstairs, and when I got to my room, Alice was standing. She looked at me in surprise.

  “Oh, so…you wanted to play here then?”

  I shrugged.

  “I just thought you might be tired since…you know…”

  She blushed, and more words spilled out of my mouth.

  “Alice, last night, I…”

  She shook her head, refusing to look me in the eye.

  “I was an idiot, running out there like that into the storm. I’m lucky I didn’t die of hypothermia or something. Thank you.”

  She still wasn’t looking at me as she said it. I put the plate, mugs, and game on the bedside table, then stepped forward and put my hand on hers.

  “It was my fault; I shouldn’t have said what I did. I’m sorry. I have a knack for pushing people away, especially when…”

  Her eyes met mine. “Especially when what?”

  I didn’t answer her. Instead, I sat on the floor and slapped the box down in front of me. She joined me on the floor, and I handed her a mug of coffee and a piece of peanut butter toast. Then we both ate and drank in silence.

  After our sad little breakfast, she asked, “So, are we gonna play or what?”

  It didn’t take long to set up the game; I handed out the two playing boards, and we picked out our cards. I got ‘Arnold’—a card showing a red-haired man with purple glasses and a peculiar, unsettling smile, and she got some other person I had to guess. And so we did, narrowing each other’s person down by gender, skin color, hair, and eyes until she guessed “Arnold” and whooped with glee at her right answer.

  But as she sat there laughing at my furious loser’s scowl, something happened. Her voice cracked, as if she had remembered something
. As if something was lurking inside her, preventing her from being happy.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t run. Back there in the bank,” she said.

  I said nothing, because that was the right answer this time.

  “Another game?” I asked after a minute. She nodded and then proceeded to beat me a second, third and fourth time.

  “Be careful,” I warned as she proceeded to taunt me with her card.

  “Or what?” she asked, her victorious grin still wide.

  “Or this,” I said, standing up.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alice

  He picked me up and, as I squealed protests, tossed me onto the bed. Back and forth we shoved each other, laughing, swearing, tossing, and turning. Until, finally, I flopped back, curled myself into a ball, and faced the corner of his small bedroom.

  I felt him do the same beside me, our legs touching just the slightest.

  Once again, I was in the same position as before, wondering if he was going to touch me, what he was going to do to me, what I wanted him to do to me.

  “I think I know why you didn’t run,” he said after a minute.

  I said nothing.

  “I think it’s the same reason I had to save you,” he said softly.

  His fingers laced with mine, and with his other hand, he turned my face to him.

  “You’ve really messed things up, princess,” he said even more softly, his lips lowering to meet mine.

  And then we were back where we had been before: his impatient fingers running over my willing body, unzipping his sweatshirt, sliding it over my exposed skin.

  His breath was hot in my ear as he murmured, “I’ve wanted you—”

  “Since the moment I saw you,” I finished for him, reaching for his crotch to see just how much he meant it.

  His dick was hard. But his touch was soft, stroking up and down my sides, the pressure building gradually until he grabbed me and, both of his hands on my ass, lifted me to his erection.