I find my voice for the first time since the auction. “Hey,” I protest, “no oneowns me!”
Maverick looks back at me with pity in his eyes and an imploring frown. “For as long as we’re in East Jersey, he does. This isn’t like your Grave. There’s no democracy, no hands-up voting, and no shared goods. This is a prison town, and Darryl runs it like a prison. He’s the man in charge. You have to do what he says or he’ll kill you, kid, do you understand me? He’ll toss you to the lurkers. And not a single person here will say one word about it.”
I think of Darryl, of how grandfatherly and kind he appears until someone crosses him. Like when he first found out I was a girl or when I objected to being put up on auction like a piece of cattle and forced to wear this revealing bikini. He’s the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde of ex-cons. I have no trouble believing a word Maverick said.
And then there’s that man he purposely fed to the lurkers to prove a point…
Chase surges forward and wraps his arms around me. I’m so rattled, I don’t push him away. For the moment, at least, I’m grateful for his protection. “I won’t let anyone hurt her.”
“Remember that. You’re all that can save her now.”
He nods. The bobbing of his head makes my whole body tremble—or maybe that’s the reality slamming into me that this… the auction wasn’t the end.
Oh, no. It was only the beginning of the trouble I’m in.
“I will do anything?—”
Maverick puts his finger to his lips, hushing Chase. A second later, I understand why. Footsteps are thundering down the hall, growing louder and louder as they approach.
Someone’s coming.
“Put that on,” Maverick hisses at me, pointing at Rory’s jacket hanging loosely from Chase’s grip.
Shit. I don’t know why I haven’t already.
Darryl bursts into the room as I pull my right arm through the sleeve, a satisfied grin splitting his face while Chloe yaps away at his heels.
“Yes, yes, yes, darlin’. You can have your turn with your husband tonight. First, I have to… mmm… take care of a little business, then I’ll be searchin’ for you.” A low chuckle that sends a shiver down my spine. “When we’re done here, I promise ya, I’ll be needin’ your special wifely attention. Wait for me.” He glances at me, at Chase. “Look at ‘em. Already touching eachother… oh, yeah. This part won’t be takin’ long, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about that.”
Chloe clearly knows a dismissal from Darryl when she hears one. Bobbing her head, bowing a little, she says, “Of course, Darryl.”
She hustles toward the door. However, before she leaves, she exchanges a glance with Maverick and, in a flash, I get it. She must’ve been the one stalling Darryl. The only question I have iswhy.
I don’t know, and in a second, she’s gone.
Darryl seems to notice Maverick at last. I guess he was too busy ogling my bikini-clad body beneath Rory’s jacket, but it finally dawns on him that Mav has found his way to this empty room.
“Brooks. Bad luck at the auction. But you know how it goes. Rules is rules, eh? I can’t let you have your girl back… not when this newcomer paid up with that antidote of his… but if you’d like to stick around and watch, I’m sure that can be arranged.”
My stomach tightens.
Watch? Watch what?
Maverick sends me another one of those apologetic grimaces before he turns to Darryl. “I think it would be best if I didn’t.”
“Yeah. I get that. Well, if ya decide to stick around, we’ve got another auction scheduled at the end of the month. Phil’s wife has a girl hitting her sixteenth birthday. Soon as she does, she’s going up on the block. She’s a pretty young thing. You might like her.”
She’ssixteen.
Oh, God. When I noticed that one or two of Darryl’s wives were young, I figured they were at least eighteen. Now… I’m not so sure.
Maverick’s expression darkens, though all he makes is a non-committal sound in the back of his throat. I’ve gotten to knowhim well enough to hazard a guess that the idea of “winning” a kid makes him angry—sick and angry—but he knows better than to voice that in a town where Darryl is in control.
Darryl’s smile is smarmy. “Think about it. But since you’re not interested in the show, why don’t you go on downstairs? I’m sure one of my wives will entertain you if you tell ‘em I sent you their way. Not Chloe, though. I have plans for that one tonight.”
Poor Chloe. I have no idea what those plans are, but considering the way Darryl is back to ogling me… I’m thinking poor Xandra right about now.
Especially when he waits for Maverick to reluctantly leave before he ducks his head out of the room, grabs something from the small side table in the hallway, then comes back in.
