“Just water for me.” The woman settles onto the sofa across from mine. “She’s thinner than the photos online suggested.”
They have photos of me. Online.
That first night, after they took me from my apartment, Kozlov had me pose for some pictures, saying it was to remind Jake what he needed to do. To keep him focussed on the task at hand.
Obviously not. I wonder how many other potential buyers have been studying my face, my body, deciding whether I’m worth the investment?
“Emma is exceptional, a rare find, I think you’ll agree.” Kozlov hands out drinks. “No family to speak of. A brotherwho’s indebted to me. And no boyfriend, of course, completely untouched. Nobody will be looking for her.”
Hearing my sad life laid out like that is jarring.
I have friends, work colleagues, some exes who might wonder where I’ve gone. But he’s right, other than Jake, I have nobody who’ll go out of their way to look for me when I don’t turn up for work. Nobody who’d scorch the earth to figure out what happened after I’m declared a missing person.
Ashworth leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Is that so?” His smile is insipid.
Kozlov nods enthusiastically. “So less risky than our other premium option, as you requested.”
Mrs. Ashworth nods, but her husband’s eyes narrow. It’s not him who wants less risk. I get the distinct impression that for him, the taboo nature of this arrangement, and perhaps the thrill of possibly getting caught, is part of the appeal.
“But safer doesn’t have to mean boring. She’ll be yours to do with as you please. To teach. To train. To share.”
The blonde’s eyes light up. “A blank canvas.” She leans into her husband, resting her slim hand on his arm. “Our options would be more… limited… with the other girl.”
My throat burns with both humiliation and fear, making it hard to swallow. It’s like Kozlov is trying to give him ideas for all the depraved, fucked-up things he could do with me once he hands me over.
“A virgin, you say? And how can we be certain of that?” He doesn’t direct the question at Kozlov. Instead, he looks me dead in the eye. “She could be lying. She wouldn’t be the first woman to erase her body count when asked.” He laughs. “I mean, who gets to twenty-five without having some kind of regrettable tumble in the hay?”
Kozlov’s smile doesn’t waver. My cheeks burn. Every instinct screams at me to refuse, but I can feel Kozlov’s eyes on me, the implicit threat if I don’t answer.
“I’ve never...” I have to stop and swallow to force the words out. “I’ve never been with anyone. Not... not like that.”
Ashworth’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Never? Not even fooling around with high school boyfriends? A little oral experimentation in college?”
The questions are invasive and degrading. I feel tears prickling and blink them away.
“No.” My voice comes out steadier than I expected. “Nothing except kissing and some heavy petting.”
At my back, it’s like I can feel Bodhi’s swell in size and stature. His thighs press against the couch, and his fingers are digging into the fabric. He might be a criminal, but I don’t think this kind of enterprise is within his comfort zone.
“Remarkable.” The woman’s tone is clinical, even as her husband sits back, fingers steepled, seemingly satisfied that I’m speaking the truth. “Though you’ll understand we can’t simply take her word for it. We’ve been disappointed before.”
Kozlov inclines his head. “Of course. What did you have in mind?”
“An examination.” Ashworth’s smile widens. “A proper medical verification. We have a physician we trust, very discreet and thorough. She’ll need to be examined before we’re willing to place a serious bid.”
Examined.I dig my nails into my palms, focusing on the sharp bite of pain. The only way someone will be examining me is when I’m cold and dead.
I’ll fight to my last breath before I let that happen.
“That can certainly be arranged,” Kozlov says smoothly. “If you’re prepared to place a deposit, I can have a physician verify her before the auction.”
The couple nods, like this is normal, like getting a mechanic to check over a second-hand car you’re purchasing, or a vet to look at a horse, and not two people buying a person and wanting to satisfy their sick, twisted minds that their deviant behavior is going to be her first sexual encounter.
“The deposit would need to be substantial.” Kozlov continues. “I have several other interested parties, and I’ve already turned down offers north of one million.”
One million. That’s what I’m worth to these people? Or not me, but rather the idea of fulfilling some fucked-up kink with a person who’s powerless to stop them.
“We’re prepared to transfer a quarter of a million tonight.” The woman opens her clutch. “As a show of good faith. The remainder upon successful verification and completion of the sale.”
