By midnight, all purchases will be delivered to the cabin of the owner.Chapter 11Marissa
Sold.
I was sold.
That’s as much as I could tell.
After primping and preening and making us look as pretty as they thought possible, then brought out to the cages, those fucking, cold cages, they sold us. I came out last, after they covered up the bruise on my cheek.
The spotlight shone on stage so none of us could see the people bidding on us. I couldn’t hear anything, and could hardly see a thing, though I was aware of some sort of buzz around my sale. It seems they all want me. Why me?
They brought us to a holding room of sorts. There are chairs but no cuffs, and papers are being drawn up.
I tremble when I think about what will happen tonight. What will happen soon. I don’t know where we are or how long we’re here, but I’ve heard the summary of why we’re here.
Virgin auction.
It doesn’t take a degree to know what someone does after he’s purchased a virgin at an auction.
I close my eyes. I have to somehow get through this. Then maybe when we pull into a harbor or… something. Maybe I can swim away?
Do I know how to swim?
I remember so little of what I used to know. Who I was.
And even if I could get away, even if I do know how to swim, where would I go? I have no story for the police. I can’t remember anything at all.
And I’ll never get away. This I know. One of our own escaped for a night, before she was found. They took all of us in a room to make an example out of her.
Her screams will haunt me forever.
“Come, now, girls.” I look up to see the man who led the auction in the doorway. “One at a time, please.” He speaks to someone on his staff beside him, and they say something about “deliveries.” It takes me a minute to realize that we are the deliveries.
I’m being brought to the man who bought me. I wish I could have seen his face. I wish I could have somehow gotten a glimpse of his eyes. You can tell a lot about a person just by looking in their eyes.
I walk in line with the rest, determined not to cause any trouble. The smartest move for me right now is to stay right here, to go along with whatever they tell me. Fighting a crowd and escaping is impossible. Escaping from one man, however… that’s another story altogether. That I might be able to get away with.
Somewhere, far away, in a distant memory I can’t recall, I was more than this.
Maybe I still am.
I hold onto that.
Maybe I still am.
A girl beside me quietly weeps, and I try to assure her.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper, my eyes on the guards. We aren’t supposed to be talking, and I have no doubt they’d still mete out punishment if they wanted to. Though we’ve been bought by people at the auction, we’re still under their authority while being delivered. I think, anyway.
What do I know? As soon as I try to form a thought, my mind grows hazy and confused. How long does it take for the drugs they gave me to leave my system? A part of me fears I might never recover fully.
The weeping girl drags her hand across her eyes and nose, her head bowed. She’s pretty, tall, with long blonde hair, and she has a grace about her. I wonder who she went to, and how he’ll treat her.
Will we stay aboard this ship? If so, for how long? Where will we go?
My thoughts jumble as we’re prodded along. Someone official looking is drawing up papers, and the bidders are standing by a table, signing things. At least I think they’re the bidders, as they’re well dressed and eye the line of women coming forward with eager, greedy eyes. They are not allowed access to us, though. After they sign papers, they are escorted out of this room.
I look at them, trying to decipher my future owner. Master, they call them. One of them will bed me tonight.
I freeze when my eyes come to one man, one thought crystal clear in the jumbled confusion of my mind.
Nicolai.
But why would I think Nicolai? He wouldn’t be aboard this ship bidding on women to buy. He’d kill the men responsible for such depravity, not become party to it. He looks my way, but turns away just as quickly.
For one moment, my breath catches in my throat. Is he? But no, he can’t be. He doesn’t look a thing like Nicolai, and yet he reminds me of him so much I’m shaken. This man is large, with broad shoulders, but he isn’t bulky like Nicolai. He’s thinner. He’s strong but lean, sinewy. He’s wearing tinted glasses so I can’t see his eyes, and I quickly let my gaze wander down to his neck and arms.