Me, Beast and Piston wander the room, looking for the rescue’s entry to check up on Travis and make sure he isn’t misbehaving. What we sure as fuck weren’t expecting to find is Sandra crouched behind the table where the dog training coupons they’ve contributed are displayed, folding leaflets on the floor.
She jumps when she looks up to see us staring down at her. “What are you doing here?”
“Us? What the fuck areyoudoing here? I thought you were staying home, and you’re not supposed to go anywhere without an escort, remember?” I try not to sound too fucking angry, but we literally talked about this.
“I was, but Travis messed up our entry and left the sign at the office. Carl called and we had to—it doesn’t matter, we weren’t planning on staying. And it’s the Woodley! Why would I be worried about coming here?”
She looks up at me with wide eyes, like she actually believes that we’re the ones in the wrong here. It’s almost enough to distract me from the way her shirt clings to her tits, and the way her hair is pulled up in a style that exposes her beautiful neck.
“Travis is with you?” Piston asks.
Sandra nods. “He’s mingling while I fix the display. Carl’s down with the van. What’s going on?”
Beast nudges me. “Over there.”
Travis stands near another table, dressed in a suit that's not nearly as nice as Kozlov’s. He spots us and turns an unattractive shade of green. Just knowing what he’s done, I decide that I’m going to kill him. I don’t know when or how, but the guy needs to go.
"Guys, you’re scaring me.” Sandra looks back and forth between us. “I know you don't like him. I don’t either, but we’ve had this planned for months and it’s for charity. I don’t want the shelter to lose out just because of Travis. Should I leave?”
Fuck. “You shouldn’t be here in the first place, but at this point I want you to stay where we can keep an eye on you. Message Carl and tell him not to wait. We’ll take you home.”
She stands up and I put my arm around her, placing my hand at the small of her back and pulling her in close enough to put a kiss on her ruby red lips.
“Is something going to happen?” she asks.
Beast crosses his arms in front of his chest. He looks about as happy as I’m feeling. “It shouldn’t get violent, but with this kind of shit you never know how it might go. Stay away from Travis. I don’t care what he needs help with, you don’t need to be the one to do it, and see that jackass in the white suit? Stay far, far away.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Piston volunteers. “Go back to the guys.”
Me and Beast join Eagle-eye and the rest of the boys in the seats Animal and Quickshot held for us. Nobody wants us here, but that’s too fucking bad. Just as my ass drops into the chair, theauction starts with a painting from some local artist. Not great, not bad.
"The River Divides Them by Regina Hogswell. Oil on canvas, featuring the lifting bridge between Blackworth and South Side, a statement on the schisms between communities in our dear city. Do I hear a thousand dollars?" The auctioneer is a skinny little man with a big bald spot on top and thick hair around it, like a pot missing its lid. Standing behind a podium on stage, he wields a gavel like he's ready to smite someone. He's got a strong voice, though, amplified through the PA. But fuck, a grand for that painting?
Eagle-eye raises the paddle that was on his seat. "One dollar."
The auctioneer evaluates Eagle-eye very carefully. Probably deciding if doing his job is gonna get him killed. Then he screws up his courage. "Sir, that’s well below the reserve price."
"Anyone's free to outbid me."
A guy to the left starts to raise his own paddle, but one glare from Eagle-eye and it slowly goes back down. Another looks like she's thinking about it, but shakes her head.
When it's obvious no one dares to outbid Eagle-eye, the auctioneer grumpily bangs his gavel on his podium. "No sale. Please bring out the next item."
Staff carry the painting out and replace it with a large, ornate vase on a plinth. "Untitled by Arthur Catsswain. Gilded ceramic and hand painted. I'd like to open this at five hundred doll?—"
Eagle-eye bids again before the auctioneer is even done. "One dollar."
"Sir! Again, this isn’t how the auction works."
Eagle-eye just nods, then looks around meaningfully. This time no one even tries.
The auctioneer’s frustration is getting obvious. "Sir, this auction is for charity. Please, if you could stop disrupting the proceedings, it would be better for everyone."
"One dollar."
Kozlov is sitting up front and to the side, glaring out at us. He looks fucking furious. I love it. I'm sure Eagle-eye’s noticed too.
"No sale." The vase is carried out, and then a fancy bicycle from a sports store is rolled in. Looks nice, if you don't want an engine on it. Some people seem to like that too.
