It’s too late, I type back.
Don’t say that. We can talk about this. Where are you?
Suspicion reaches for me like a cold, dark hand. I’m out. Where are YOU?
Your house, he says. No one is answering the door.
Oh my God, he’s at my house. In the listless days following the breakup I would have given anything to hear that knock, to see his face. To have him say that it was a mistake.
I can’t forget that Justin is a rich man, and unlike Harper, his trust fund isn’t tied up with a stingy stepbrother. No, he doesn’t need anyone’s approval—not legally. Though most of the time he asks his dad for advice. And his dad would have told him to drop me like a hot potato.
What would have happened if Justin and I were already married when my father got convicted? What if we’d had kids already? Would Justin have stood by me then? It doesn’t matter, because he didn’t stand by me when it counted.
The letters blur in front of me, but I force the tears back. I won’t mess up Candy’s beautiful work. I’m sorry, I type. It’s really over.
More than just my engagement. My life. My future?
I shove the phone back into my clutch. Did I make a mistake? My heart pounds. I imagine calling him, confessing everything, begging him to come rescue me from this tower. I can’t really trust him, can’t even love him, but maybe love doesn’t matter in the face of cold practicality. In the face of familial duty.
And if love doesn’t matter, then maybe I should accept Uncle Landon’s offer. Safety, security. Isn’t that worth something? God, that’s worth everything.
A knock comes at the door.
My gaze darts to the whitewashed panels, wishing there was a peephole. It feels like flipping a coin—on the other side, will there be Candy’s sensual advice? Or will there be Gabriel’s dark threats? I know which one is safer for me, which one I should want, but as the coin rotates in the air, as I reach for the doorknob, it’s Gabriel that I want to see.
Not Gabriel. And not Candy either.
It’s the man from last time, the one with pale reddish hair and pale eyes. He’s handsome in that stocky, filled-out way, but I can’t get past the coldness of his eyes. They’re light blue, but they look like ice.
He raises one tawny eyebrow, challenging me. “They’re ready for you. I’m to bring you downstairs.”
And I realize what his job is tonight, guarding me. Keeping me from leaving. It’s the same reason he was lurking in the hallway last time. Making sure I don’t run away before I fulfill my end of the bargain. They’re right to suspect me, because my doubts rise up like a black cloud.
And my father cheated Gabriel Miller. That’s how I got into this mess. They would doubt my word.
You ought to be running far away. That’s what he told me last time, but I know without trying now that he wouldn’t let me leave. Too late to call Justin to save me. Too late to accept Uncle Landon’s proposal. Fear is a cold grip on my heart.
“You’re wrong,” I tell him. “They won’t take the money out of my skin.”
They won’t hurt me. I won’t let them. I’ll play Candy’s game, like she taught me. I’ll make them desperate for more, even though I’m the one who feels desperate right now.
He gives me a cruel smile. “Be glad I’ve got no plans to bid on you.”
“What do you have against my father?”
His hand. My arm. He doesn’t grip me hard, not deep enough to bruise, but I’m trapped. “He fucked over a lot of people in this town,” he says. “Including me. He got his, though, didn’t he? Pissing through a tube now, isn’t he?”
My eyes widen. “Did you touch him?”
“I didn’t hurt the fucker, but I wanted to. A lot of people did. Be careful who you trust, girl. There’s plenty who want to do the same to you.”
* * *
Damon’s voice is loud and booming, the perfect auctioneer. I can hear him clearly from behind the velvet curtains. He greeted me briefly to make sure I was ready for him to introduce me. That was the word he used—introduce. Not sell or pimp.
Nothing dirty, even though that’s what this is.
“Welcome, distinguished gentlemen—and a few lovely women. As people of discerning taste and elevated interests, I know you’ll agree with me that today’s auction is the event of the year. The object of our desires is waiting right now, but before I bring her out, I want to tell you a little bit about what your hard-earned money will be purchasing.”
The low murmur of voices, the clink of crystal. How many people are out there?
“This particular fruit is ripe and ready to be picked,” Damon continues, his tone far too pleased with himself. “I expect she’ll be the perfect color when you open her up, juicy and sweet.”