“I won’t do it. None of it. And you can’t make me.”
“Oh?” I hear the warning in his voice over the blood pumping in my veins. “I can’t?”
I swallow roughly. “No.”
Chloe flaps her hands, trying to get her husband’s attention. “Don’t listen to her, Darryl. She’s just nervous. You know that’s all it is. Come on, sweetie. Let’s get that suit on you.”
That’s when I make a mistake. Taking my eyes off the bigger threat, I turn to Chloe. “Weren’t you listening to me? I wo?—”
Fuck me, but his fist comes out of nowhere. One minute I’m standing there, the next I’m crumpled in a pile on the floor. It’s that fast, and he hits that damn hard.
I see stars. My hand flies up to my face, the pain so sudden, sointensethat I can’t tell where exactly he hit me. In my face, yes, but the heat is overwhelming. I probe at the flesh with my fingertips, the softest ofoh’s escaping me when I find the point where the blood pounds underneath my skin.
My cheekbone isn’t broken—at least, I’m pretty sure it isn’t—but I can already feel the area right under my eye swelling. Tears spring up involuntarily. No matter how much it hurts, I blink them back. I absolutely refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
Shit. If I don’t have a black eye come tomorrow, I’ll be super lucky.
Darryl shakes his fist out, and I’m irrationally glad that my hard head at least caused him some pain.
“You’ll do what you’re told,” he says hotly. The tears are making it hard to see his sneer, but there’s no way I can miss the venomous authority in his voice. “Wear the suit or head out onto the platform butt-ass-naked, I don’t give a fuck. But you will give my boys an eyeful of what they’re bidding on or else I might just keep you for myself. Your choice.
“Chloe,” he says next, and I’m sure I don’t imagine the woman’s slight flinch, “you finish cleaning her up. Do her make-up all nice and pretty. And, while you’re at it, do something about that.” He gestures vaguely at the obvious burn scar on my left arm. “The boys don’t like damaged goods.”
I wait until he’s marched back out of the room before I climb to my feet. Chloe starts fussing over me, murmuring how a little bit of ice will do the job in helping to keep the swelling on my face down, and I let her. Something tells me that she’s been dealt a blow or two from those same fists. By the time she comes back with some ice, a nearly empty tube of foundation, and some powder, I’ve already changed into the bathing suit.
Chloe tells me I look beautiful.
I want to throw up.
The auction is like something out of my worst nightmares.
Chloe is the one who brings me to the block in the center of the first apartment complex. But it turns out that women in East Jersey aren’t allowed to attend the auction, either, and she passes me off to a lanky man with hair like straw and a noticeable gap between his front teeth.
He cops a cheap feel as he helps me climb the wooden stairs, and though my face immediately starts heating up while my fingers curl into fists, I know better than to retaliate—no matter how much I want to.
I can’t even begin to guess how many men are gathered around the front of the stage. So it’s not as many as last night when Darryl sentenced one of his men to death-by-lurker. There’s still at least a hundred guys of varying ages watching me in the barely-there bikini, and more than half of them are wearing the same sort of coveralls as Darryl.
The prison town’s leader has already taken his place center-stage, a wolfish grin poking out from beneath his bushy beard when he sees that I’m in that damn bathing suit like he orderedme to. There’s a crate next to him, a bell and a hammer perched on top of it.
My eye is throbbing, the spot where he punched me pulsing as I purposely turn away from him.
Chloe did a wonderful job covering the blossoming bruise with as much foundation as she could get out of that tube. Even so, I’m sure Darryl can make out his handiwork from across the stage. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see his grin widen.
I hold my head up as high as I dare, unwilling to give Darryl the satisfaction of thinking he’s broken me. So long as Maverick’s plan goes off without a hitch, we can get the hell out of here, and I can start plotting how I’m going to make that bastard pay for humiliating me like this.
But whereisMaverick?
My breath catches in my throat as I cast my gaze over the crowd, trying to pick him out. A soft exhale escapes me when, after a few seconds where the panic flooded my chest, I finally find him. He’s stationed right at the front of the crowd. He catches me looking for him and quickly raises one finger to his forehead in salute.
Some of my nerves melt away now that I know for sure that he’s here. A week ago he was a stranger. Now? All I can think is how good it is to have at least one familiar face out there.
Even if he’s the reason I’m in this situation in the first place. If he hadn’t veered so close to East Jersey…
Now that their guest of honor has arrived, Darryl moves toward the front of the stage. He makes a speech that I’m barely listening to. It’s mainly praise for his leadership, and a reminder of how important it is for the men of East Jersey to provide for their wives—and how grateful said wives have been in return since the lurkers took over.
The prick slips in some chauvinistic jokes that make the men laugh and my stomach churn. Every minute that passes,I’m more and more aware of the comments and catcalls being directed at me. I’m wearing the damn bikini, but as skimpy and tight as it is, I could be naked up here after all.
After introducing me as Alexandra, a twenty-year-old virgin—I do my best not to burst out laughing at the two big whoppers—who likes killing lurkers as much as doing whatever she can to make her new husband happy, Darryl opens the bidding. I don’t know what I’m expecting, but it isn’t this…
