CHAPTER 3
Heather
The host motioned for me to walk down the steps of the stage. Zaid was already at the bottom with an outstretched hand.
I stared at him for a moment. Ten thousand dollars. One night. What the hell did he want with me?
He shook his hand at me again, agitation in his movements. I took his hand, the warmth of his palm surprising me. He helped me down the steps.
“I told you it’s not safe,” he said in a harsh whisper.
“I toldyouI need to find my sister.”
He led me through the theater, back through the dungeon, to the entry lobby. We were alone. He gestured at the lockers. I got my backpack quickly. I checked my phone: no missed calls, no texts. No word from Hazel. I should contact her, or one of my old coworkers back in California. Someone should know where I was before I disappeared with this stranger.
But Zaid spoke, interrupting my thoughts.
“I can give you what you need,” he said. His brown eyes were full of fire, and yet he searched me. Despite the invisible walls he kept around himself, there was a tenderness to him. That scar along his eye that must have been a physical reminder to all that knew him, even to himself: Zaid guarded himself, and was willing to do whatever it took.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He held my chin, tilting my head towards his for the slightest moment, staring down at me, enveloping me in his gaze. His dark brown eyes seemed to hold me. Saw me, and everything inside of me. I felt safe.
Then he let go of my chin, and stepped back.
“Your sister,” he said.
Hazel?
It was hard to comprehend what was happening. The danger, the auction, being in a club full of the most deviant desires. To have a man bid ten thousand dollars for a single night with me, the same night he tried to force me to leave.
But pushing that aside, Zaid knew Hazel, or at least knew something about her. It was the only lead I had.
He gestured for me to follow him.
To the side of the room, an unmarked door led to a metal staircase that covered the edges of the dungeon. A man in black nodded at Zaid.
“I’m heading back,” Zaid said. “Mark and James are on the way.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said.
“After dawn, then,” Zaid said.
“Yes, sir.”
Zaid went around me, racing down the staircase. I followed him, but stopped at the end of the stairs. This? This was insane.
Halfway through the door, Zaid stopped, and turned towards me.
“Yes?” he asked. He met me at the foot of the stairs.
“How do I know I can trust you?” I asked.
He paused, watching me. As if fascinated. As if I were a riddle he could solve. Then, “I tried to ensure your safety before.”
“It’s not that,” I said. His brow furrowed at my answer. “How do I know you actually know anything about her?”
His eyes fluttered back and forth, tracing my expression. “You’ll have to trust me.”
