Buyers.
"Two very special lots for you tonight," Mick says. "Fresh, pretty, and very eager to please."
"Like hell," I mutter.
Sylvie's fingers dig into my arm. "These men," she breathes. "Thea, I recognize one of them from the papers. He's connected."
"I know," I say. "Don't look at them. Look at me."
I try to back us toward the door we came through.
A hand lands on my shoulder. Big, heavy, warning.
"Don't," a deep voice growls in my ear. "You don't want to turn your back on this room."
"I don't want to be in this room," I snap, shrugging against his grip.
He nudges me forward anyway.
I catch myself after one step.
No.
If they’re going to put me on display, they are not getting me hunched and shaking.
I straighten.
I’ve spent years being invisible. Head down. Uniform on. Quick, quiet, forgettable.
I’ve spent my whole life shrinking, pulling my shoulders in, folding myself smaller so other people could feel comfortable taking up space.
Not tonight.
Tonight, there’s nowhere left to hide.
Fine.
Let them look.
I walk into the full wash of light with my chin up and my spine locked, every furious inch of me refusing to fold.
The room’s attention slams into me at once.
Shit.
"And we'll start with this one," Mick says cheerfully, strolling toward me. He gestures like a game show host displaying a prize. "Twenty-five. Healthy. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Curves in all the right places, gentlemen. Trust me."
He winks.
My skin crawls.
I take a step toward him. "Call this off, Mick. Now. This is illegal, and I swear to God"
"Let's start the bidding," he says, talking clean over me. "And please, gentlemen, don't insult me. This is a prime asset."
The rage that blasts through me is almost enough to drown out the fear.
"I am not an asset," I bite out.
