“Fuck you,” I said under my breath.
Steven turned his head, studying me intently. While there was anger in his eyes, the flash of his smile was almost as if he was daring me to try to run. “Alright, ladies. You’ll be led to the main ballroom.”
We trailed behind him as he led us down a corridor. Another door opened in the direction we were going. Within seconds, I could see another line of girls headed in our direction. As they approached, I slowed down, trying to catch sight of every girl.
Bumped from behind, I was forced to continue walking, one girl in my line purposely tripping me. Caught off balance, I almost missed the last girl in line. She had vacant eyes, as if she was strung out or worse.
As if she was empty inside.
The moment she passed by me, I caught her attention and I stared directly into the girl’s eyes.
The eyes of my sister.
CHAPTER 6
Kendrick
“Mr. Cavanaugh. It’s good to meet you.”
As the man behind the voice settled into the seat next to me, I barely glanced in his direction. “I assume you have something to do with this charade.” The text had come from Catcher barely three hours before. Maybe my eagerness would work to my benefit.
He laughed as if he’d never had one of his guests criticize his special club ever before. “I assure you this is no charade.”
“After agreeing to sign a nondisclosure, I was told to meet at a parking lot where I was frisked then forced to put on a blindfold. My weapon was taken without so much as being provided with an explanation of why or when it would be returned. After not being told anything about my destination, I was taken into this darkened space, required to wear a mask without anyone so much as greeting me in the way I require in every event I attend.” I barely threw him a look, continuing to stare at thedarkened stage in front of me. “So yes, to me this is a complete charade.”
I’d managed to take a good enough look at him to register a few features. While also wearing a mask as everyone I’d seen up to this point, including the ten or so men sitting at small tables sprinkled throughout the room, he stood out from the rest. I could almost see a golden halo surrounding his head.
With my photographic memory, I already had a list of various traits from selections of watches and jewelry to nervous tics. Even still, identification would be tricky.
Wherever I’d been taken, I’d seen several rooms, many of them large. There were at least three dozen men enjoying drinks in bar-like settings, every location with creatively blacked out windows. There were even pool tables and dartboards, as if the club was merely an extended man cave for the rich and famous.
The building itself was likely located just outside of town, although it was entirely possible the driver had purposely ensured I wouldn’t recognize turns or noises. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say we were in a converted warehouse. Clever as hell. There’d likely be little if any traffic at night, providing additional anonymity. But so far, I’d been unable to see any distinguishing marks. With the expansive lighting, even the ceilings were all but invisible.
Many of the clients and members were in their sixties, very few younger than fifty. They were all well dressed, all drinking scotch or an expensive bourbon. The gentleman seated to my left was in his late thirties, close to my age. Everything about his physical being depicted money, including his jewelry.
I’d noticed him the moment he’d entered the room, acting as if he was king instead of a monster selling off women like fine diamonds. I had the distinct feeling he’d been planted to watch me during the event.
“Yes, well, the act of anonymity isn’t always necessary. Many of my clients work together, or at least are acquaintances. However, when we have a newcomer, extra precautions are taken. As I’m certain Steven told you, we are very conscientious about our privacy. I don’t think I need to provide you with reasons why.”
“Yes, of course you don’t. The trafficking of women is highly illegal, although I must admit, the knowledge makes ownership that much more inviting.” As I brought the glass to my lips, I chuckled.
“You seem to be a man mirroring my own heart. There is something invigorating about taking what shouldn’t belong to you.”
“Absolutely. Now, how is the auction handled?”
“It’s very simple. You’re allowed to bid on any of the women and as soon as you’ve made the choice, you’re out of the auction. While I often enjoy two or more women at once, we must not be greedy. There are other members who deserve a chance at happiness. However, as noted in the nondisclosure, you as our guest are required to bid on a woman tonight. Given the women we have as our offerings, you will be taking home a slave. That doesn’t mean you are required to keep her permanently, of course. Variety is the spice of life.”
Meaning he wanted another sale.
“Yes, I do enjoy tasting many fruits.”
He hummed as if in the throes of pleasure. “Oh, I do as well.”
“Do the women go along with this willingly?”
His laugh made my blood boil. “They have no choice, Mr. Cavanaugh. If they become unruly, members and even guests such as yourself are allowed to punish them.”
Punish.
