“What’s so funny?” I bark at him. “Never mind. I need to know exactly where she is, and?—”
“I already put in the deposit to join the auction. You’re bidder number fourteen. You better get going if you want to make it in time.”
Tossing on my leather jacket, I shake my head. I swear Wolfe knows me better than I know myself. Of course I’m going to get Ravenna out of there. Nothing can stop me.
“Text me the details.” I head out, catching the amused, smug expression on Wolfe’s face. He knew this would be my reaction to someone trying to sell what’s mine. He also seems to know how much she’s gotten under my skin. Damn it.
In the garage, I opt for the fastest car. A motorcycle would be quickest, but I plan on bringing Ravenna home tonight, just not on the back of my Ducati.
Wolfe texts me the location as I zoom out of the driveway.
She’smywife.
Mine.
No onefucking touches her butme.
My temper has barely cooled by the time I arrive at the pinned location. I want to go in there, guns blazing, and kill every last fucker who saw those photos of my wife online.
But if I’m going to get her safely out of here, I need to be strategic about it. Recklessness won’t do either of us any good right now.
The pop up flesh market is held at an old, abandoned factory on the outskirts of the suburbs. The rough exterior sits in stark contrast to the expensive vehicles parked out front, there’s everything from Porsches to luxury sedans. My sports car fits right in with the rest. Which tells me exactly where I stand—no better than the rest of these fuckers. I’ll do anything to get what I came here for, just like them.
Inside, the venue bursts with life. Upon entering, I’m given a mask to wear that’s the same as everyone else’s. Plain and black. As well as a special device for bidding in the auction as phones are not allowed on the premises.
Servers dressed in glaring white uniforms offer drinks in the dimly lit space. At the far end of the stage, a single spotlight shines down on a rusty metal pole.
I’m not entirely sure what the pole is for until the auction starts. The first drugged up girl is dragged onto the stage, shackled to the pole, and instructed to turn this way and that so we all get a view of the goods.
My teeth clench, but I do my best to blend in with the rest of the audience. Some are here as spectators, but it seems most are bidding. The bidder numbers must have been given out at random because I found out about this party late, and there are certainly more than fourteen of us.
It’s really too bad that I can’t just kill all these fuckers and be done with it. They have no right to my wife.
A sudden pang of guilt hits my chest. If I hadn’t abandoned her, she wouldn’t be here. She wouldn’t be subjected to these strangers’ gazes. Since I doubt she’d go along with this auction on her own, who knows what her father did to her to get her here.
Fuck.
When the next woman is led into the spotlight, blinding fury threatens to overtake me. My fingers wrap around the railing in front of me, my knuckles white. My reaction isn’t only because of all these men’s eyes on my wife’s scantily clad body, but because of her broken lip, the swelling around one eye, and the fading bruises on her ribs, arms, and thighs.
Someone is going to die tonight. That’s a guarantee. A promise.
Seeing her again fills me with all kinds of mixed emotions. I’ve had time to think about everything that happened, and on reflection, I may have been in the wrong. I may have judged her too harshly.
Ravenna was trying to tell me the truth in the library before her sister called. I’d warned her enough times about lying to me, and she knew about my past at that point. She had every reason to believe that I’d react badly. But she wanted to confess anyway.
She was willing to put her faith in me, and what did I do? I turned my back on her, shut her out, and apparently delivered her to a monster.
Someone has been mistreating my wife. I won’t let that stand.
I punch my bid into the device and watch the number rise as others bid on what’smine. I focus, keeping my rage at bay. For now.
There’s no way I’m losing this auction, so I skip the suggested bid and type in one million dollars. Some asshole raises me to one point one mil.
Let’s play, fucker.
I type in two million.
I’ll spend every last penny of my significant fortune if that's what it takes. There’s no price too high.
