The Auction (5 page)

“Now it’s time to see what you’re made of.” Andrew walked toward his grandson.

Foster didn’t know where the knife that was now in his grandfather’s hand had come from.

“Slit his throat from left to right and make the cut deep. This can be done slow or quick. The more quickly you do it, the more humane, however this piece of shit doesn’t deserve mercy. Go as slow as you can.” He placed the knife in Foster’s hand.

What happened next changed his life forever.

“Mr. Graham, your two o’clock is waiting. What should I tell him?” His executive assistant’s image waited patiently for his response.

“Go ahead and send him in, Serena.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Foster braced himself as he waited for his visitor to enter. The last time he’d seen this man, he thought it would be
their final encounter
and now he was
the one in need of a favor
.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the golden boy? How’s life on the other side of the fence?” Marcus Freeman strode into the office like he owned it. Without waiting for any indication to sit down, he took the seat opposite Foster’s desk.

“I appreciate you coming to see me on such short notice.” Foster tried to be as polite as possible but he was having difficulty doing it when this man was
little better than the traffickers Fosters wanted to infiltrate
.
Their last face to face had not been on good terms.

Marcus smirked. “What are friends for?”

“Cut the bullshit. You and I both know we’re not friends. We’re not even business associates and if this was five years ago, things would be very different between us.”

Marcus raised a brow seemed surprised by Foster’s candor. “Pretty hostile words from someone who’s looking for a favor.”

“A favor you owe me.”

“You can’t prove I did it, you know,” he responded cryptically.

“Oh, but you know I can or you wouldn’t have come. Do you have the invitation?”

Marcus dropped his cocky demeanor for a moment. “Are you sure you want to do this? These people don’t fuck around.”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay. It’s your funeral, bro.” Marcus reached into his jacket pocket and produced a gold-gilded card. “These weren’t so easy to come
by. I trust this makes us even?
”

“What do you think?”

“I think if I could
,
I’d gladly switch places with you. You’re actually one hundred percent legit and you’re willing to fuck it up over a whim. I don’t get you, Graham.”

Foster shrugged. “No one is stopping you from turning things around.”

Marcus rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, right. I don’t have the fancy contacts and powerful friends you do. That makes all the difference in the world and you know it. So, are we done?”

“Yeah. We’re done.”

Marcus stood up and just as quickly as he’d entered the office, he walked out, leaving Foster holding the gold card.

The card read:
The Auction begins at midnight. Contact number below to learn the coordinates for the secret location.

The date read a week from today. Now that he was completely committed to his plan. There was no going back.

Chapter Five

Tori felt as if she’d been scrubbed and groomed to within an inch of her life. Since she’d been here in this facility she’d been bathed, waxed, buffed and brushed. Her teeth were whitened; every single strand of body hair had been removed. She’d been poked, prodded and examined all under the watchful eye of the intimidating Zee who demanded that every single one of her commands be obeyed.

She was even given a full body scan to ensure that there were no major medical issues. The only upside to that was having the nerve damage in her hand repaired. The residual pain she had experienced on and off from Mr. X’s cruelty was gone, leaving only mental images of his torture as a reminder of her time with him. She
should have at least been grateful for the medical care but she couldn’t help thinking that her new owner wouldn’t undo it all through cruelty and abuse.

Tonight was the night.

Zee had informed her that the buyers would be in
residence
and she would have to be prepared. Shia had spent the better part of the day getting her ready.

“I don’t understand why they would go to so much trouble i
f I’m just going to be sold off,
”
Tori said with a frustrated huff.

Shia stared at her thoughtfully. “These bidders will be paying top dollar. They expect a certain aesthetic from their girls. I wouldn’t be surprised if you are the top moneymaker tonight.”

“What does it matter to me what I’ll bring in? It’s not like I’ll ever see any of it.” Tori couldn’t help but feel bitter as she thought of all the credits that would be spent on women who would be treated as property and would have no say in their futures. She had a deep-rooted disgust for the Elite class, who treated people from a lower economic background like her as if they were objects, things to amuse themselves with. They came up with games that preyed on poor people like The Run.

It was the government that started the hunt not long after the female population dipped dramatically because of an unregulated vaccination for breast cancer that was introduced to the market. It knocked out over fifty percent of the women in the country. Other parts of the world had been hit even harder. In Tori’s mind, it would have made more sense if women were cherished and revered. Instead, they had become a commodity for wealthy men to play with. It was a dangerous world for a woman, where they were fewer in numbers with most of their basic human rights stripped away.

Women who managed to find jobs made only a fraction of that of men. There were certain jobs they weren’t allowed to have. They couldn’t hold public office, and most women born in squalor had few options to earn a decent living, which was why many of them turned
to
earning money on their backs by either working at brothels or finding rich patrons. And then there were more sinister options like The Run where volunteers earned ten thousand credits, which in most cases was more than they could possibly earn in weeks. The downside, however, was that the women had to trade in their self-respect and strip naked and run away from “hunters” who pursued them in the name of gamesmanship. Once these so-called hunters, also known as patrons, caught the woman, they could do whatever they wanted to their prey. In a lot of cases, these patrons ended up keeping the woman they caught.

In Tori’s case, both her patrons had left her shattered. Mr. X had broken her body, while the first patron, Foster Graham, had broken her heart.

Tori wasn’t sure how long she’d been running but her legs were tight and ached from excursion
. Her lungs were on fire and
sweat dripped down her body like rain. As much as it hurt to keep going, she couldn’t stop. She figured if she got a safe enough distance away from the starting point no one would find her.

Perhaps if she could
locate
a suitable hiding space she
’d be able to
rest for a bit and continue on
later
. She didn’t want to get caught. She had to get back to her siblings and take care of them. She’d already authorized for the credits she’d earn for participating today to be transferred to her father since he was technically the legal guardian of her brothers and sisters. But she couldn’t trust t
hat he’d use
that money to take care of them properly. He’d probably spend it all on alcohol, drugs, or gambling, or maybe even all three.

With her mind momentarily occupied, Tori lost focus on her task causing her to stumble over a large rock. “Ah!” she cried out as she la
nded on the ground, face first o
nto the moss-covered forest floor. Rolling over, she reached for her ankle which now throbbed in pain. She touched it as gently as she could but winced when her hand made contact with the sore spot. She hoped it wasn’t broken, because even if it was, she had to somehow keep going or be caught. Tori gave herself a moment to recover, hoping the ache would subside a bit. When it didn’t, she realized she had no choice but to keep going.

Tori attempted to stand, but the minimal amount of weight she attempted to put on her injured foot sent her crashing back to the ground. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. The last thing she needed was to draw attention to herself in case someone was headed in her direction. She looked around, hoping to find some kind of hiding spot where she could rest and look through her supplies to see if there was something to wrap her ankle with. After taking a brief survey of her surroundings, she spotted a large bush with an opening just big enough for her to crawl through. She figured she could keep herself cloaked by covering the opening with branches and leaves once she was inside.

She crawled to her sanctuary, and cursed under her breath as she squeezed through the tiny space, getting scrapped by the sharp edges of exposed twigs. It was the hazard of playing this stupid game. She wasn’t allowed a stitch of clothing besides running shoes. She cursed the sick bastard who originally thought of this idea. There was no space to move and if she did, Tori feared she’d make too much noise, so she kept very still and quiet, ignoring the pain in her ankle.

After what seemed like several minutes, she realized her injury wouldn’t get any better even with her being off
of
it. She had no choice but to keep moving, but as she was about to leave her hiding place, the sound of leaves crunching beneath booted feet caught her attention. Someone was near. She and the rest of the women had been given an hour head start, so she must have been in this spot longer than she thought.

Gazing through the leaves, she wasn’t sure whether to be frightened or relieved, because the person who came into her view was none other than the one patron in this horrible game that didn’t make her skin crawl. It relieved her because he hadn’t pawed her like she was a piece of meat
as the others had done
. But it scared the hell out of Tori that she actually thought it wouldn’t be so bad being caught by him.

Earlier, before the games had started, the patrons were allowed to check out the volunteers. As each of those Elite bastards degraded the women like insignificant little nothings, some going as far as to touch their genitals, Tori had wanted to
punch, and lash out but knew those actions could cost her
. But finally a tall blond man stood before her. She literally gasped when she saw him. When he’d introduced himself as Foster, it didn’t quite register because she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him even if she wanted to.

His crisp blue eyes a shade so vibrant, they held her mesmerized. He had a face that seemed to be chiseled from granite, all perfect angels and pl
anes. Dirty blond hair that hung
past his ears seemed elegantly tussled in effortless waves. Tall, and broad-shouldered, he was surprisingly well built for a man who probably didn’t know what the meaning of hard labor was. He certainly looked as if he took good care of himself. Tori could think of no other word to describe this man other than beautiful. Despite the easy smile tilting his lips, there was a hardness about him that lay just below the surfa
ce. Behind that sapphire gaze, were
secrets. It frightened her a bit, because she knew better than most that looks could be deceiving.

She tried to huddle as inconspicuously
as she could inside the bush, so as
not to draw attention to herself. It didn’t matter how attractive she found this man, he was a danger to her as long as he threatened her freedom. He casually strode in her direction, seeming to be in no hurry. As he got closer, she heard a beeping noise. Tori bit the inside of her lip to hold back a gasp so she wouldn’t give herself away. She focused on his polished black boots which seemed to be the kind worn by the military, but fancier.

He took a few paces away from the bush only to return. “I can wait this out as long as you can, although I can’t imagine that it’s very comfortable in that bush.” He spoke with such confidence, if Tori didn’t know better she would have thought he’d actually seen her enter her hiding spot. But that wasn’t possible because she’d crawled inside before he’d come into sight.

She remained very still, not daring to move. There was no way she would surrender so easily. She thought of trying to make a run for it but realized it wouldn’t do her much good on her bad ankle.

Foster chuckled. The sound was tinged with just the right amount of sinister intent that sent chills down
Tori’s
spine. He could have reached inside the bush at any second but it felt like he was to
ying with
her somehow. “It’s only going to end one of two ways, you can either come out on your own volition, or I come get you, and I’ve been told that I can be…rough. Come out and play.”

Tears stung her eyes. This wasn’t how she envisioned the game to go. She was so certain she could somehow find a way to dodge all the patrons but she was wrong. Suddenly realization hit her. That beeping sound. He’d been using a tracking device
.
How else would he know exactly where she was hiding? The fucking game was rigged! Tori’s fear quickly transformed to anger. There was no way any of the volunteers were meant to get out of here without being hunted down and captured.

“Bastard!”

His response was to once again chuckle. “I assure you, sweetheart, that my parents were very much married when I was born. Come on out.”

“What do you think people would say when they learn this game is fixed?”

“Fixed? In what way.”

“Clearly you have a tracker.”

“Your point?”

It was disheartening that he didn’t seem the least bit concerned about her accusation. The fact that he didn’t bother to deny it seemed to support the fact that even if she became a whistleblower, no one would care, at least no one who had the power to do anything about it. “Why me? You could have tracked any of the other women.”

“If I wanted another woman, I’d be with her right now, wouldn’t I? Look, it’ll be dark soon, come out.”

“Fuck off. Do you honestly think I’ll come to you willingly?”

“Have it your way.”

Before she could reply he reached inside the bush. He yanked her
by the forearm
with enough force to send her colliding against his chest. In the process, however, her injury was aggravated. She let out a howl. “Oww, you asshole!” she screamed in pain.

Foster held her away from him, staring down at her through now narrowed eyes. He must have discerned that she was in agony, before he sighed and lifted her in his arms. “Where do you hurt?”

Surprised that he bothered to show concern, Tori answered honestly. “My ankle.”

“Well, we have about a six mile hike back to the main house where someone can give you treatment. In the meantime, I guess that I’ll have to carry you, not that I mind.” That easy smile of his returned.

Tori wasn’t sure what to make of him. One second he was the cheerful charmer, and the next, he was the dark menace. And both sides of him scared the hell out of her.

“I think you’re all ready.” Shia glanced at her, seeming satisfied with her handiwork.

Tori hadn’t been paying attention as Shia had dressed her in a sheer black dress that clung to her body like
a second
skin. Though she was given a tiny metallic
G-string
, Tori wasn’t offered any other undergarments. She felt just as nude now as she had when she’d participated in The Run.

Shia pressed a button on the room’s control panel and a full length mirror rose from a
slot
that
opened on the floor. Tori star
ed at the image looking back at her. She barely recognized herself. Her face was caked with artfully applied makeup, and her normally riotous curls had been straightened and now hung to the center of her ba
ck. Her bronze skin seemed to sh
immer beneath the lights which made the green in her hazel eyes really pop. She looked like one of the workers in the
fancier
b
rothels
.

When Tori used to hold a job in the shopping district as an errand girl, many of the high class prostitutes would stroll down the street clothed in the latest fashions, carrying an armful of bags. They
held
the title of courtesan because of the price they could demand for their services and were held to some degree of esteem in their twisted society. But while they may have walked around with their noses in the air, looking down on the workers in the seedier bordellos, they still made their livings on their backs. Tori never wanted that for herself, but now she was in a situation far worse. At least the sex workers chose their profession despite the circumstances which lead them there.