Intense

“Come,” the woman says, leading me down a few corridors. “You’ll stay with the girls until we figure out what to do with you.”

“Thanks,” I say. “I appreciate it.”

“Mhmmm,” she answers ignoring me again.

The girls stay in what’s essentially a dormitory in the eastern part of the building. I’m shown to a room where I can unpack and get changed if I want. There’s a shower down the hall and a common room on the next floor down with a kitchen and some couches. That’s where most of the girls spend their time. I thank the woman and she leaves as fast as she can, almost as if I’m poisonous.

The Syndicate doesn’t want me here. I can tell that about them, I’m just another pain in the ass, another problem to solve. The second they get the opportunity, they’re going to turn me in to my father.

Which is why I don’t plan on being here for very long. I quickly open my bag and get out the phone Ethan gave me. I send him a message, saying that I’m okay, and then I grab an envelope that I hid beneath my underwear.

Inside the envelope is ten grand in hundred dollar bills. I slip it into the waistband of my jeans and cover it over with my shirt. I take a quick look in the mirror and then I head to the common room.

I step into the main room and take a look around. Disappointment sinks into my stomach.

I don’t recognize a single girl in there. People sit in small groups and talk, but I don’t know a single face. There are maybe eight girls in all scattered around. I walk into the kitchen and open the refrigerator door just to have something to do. I grab a bottled water and open it, looking around.

I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t know anyone. I can probably just ask a random girl, hope she knows something, but that’s dangerous. If I ask the wrong girl and she turns me in, I’ll be finished. I don’t know what I’ll do then. This whole thing will be over, and I’ll be given back to my father.

A nervous energy rolls through me as I scan the room one more time. I sit down at the kitchen table and cross my legs, sipping the water and looking at my phone, trying to pretend like I’m busy, but inwardly I’m terrified.

This could all be for nothing. I know that, deep in my gut, but I can’t let myself fall into that trap. It’s still early, I just got here. Other girls might show up. I have to hope.

I sit there for an hour or so, fiddling with my phone. Nobody talks to me, which isn’t so surprising. Most girls in The Syndicate are pretty cliquey and tight knit groups tend to form. People sure do love their high school bullshit hierarchies, even when they’re not in high school.

“Hey, I know you.”

I look up suddenly, surprised. A blonde girl looks back at me, smiling. I’m so surprised that someone is actually talking to me, I forget to respond.

“Lisa,” she says. “Remember? From the auction?”

I pause and then my eyes go wide. “Lisa,” I say, laughing. “We spoke before.”

“That’s right.” She smiles warmly and sits down next to me. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” I say. “What about you? Who did you end up going home with?”

She laughs. “Nobody, actually.”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised. Lisa is gorgeous, way prettier than me. “Nobody?”

“They didn’t buy me.” She shrugs. “No big deal.”

“That’s crazy.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I actually feel relieved, you know? I lucked into my current job.”

“Current job?”

“Sure.” She leans back and brushes her hair from her face. “They gave me an admin job. Been doing that ever since.”

She goes on about how life is tough living here, but her room and board is free and it’s not so bad, but I barely hear her. I suddenly lost the ability to concentrate when she said the word “admin.”

“Lisa,” I say, suddenly interrupting her but not caring. “I need your help.”

She looks surprise. “Uh, okay,” she says.

“Sorry,” I answer, talking fast. “I know I’m being rude. But I really need your help.”

“Okay,” she says softly. “What can I do?”

“I need something, something you might know how to get for me, but it’s something that could get us both in trouble.”

Her eyes narrow. “I don’t know where you can get drugs.”

I pause. “No, no, not that,” I say. “Nothing like that. It’s information.”

She softens a bit, but still looks confused. “What information can I get for you?”