Chapter 5
Toby
I ease off the gas to slot us three cars back. As much as I hate to think it, if she remembers who we are, she might not be glad we're following her.
Dylan's holding her picture again, tapping it on his thigh. "She didn't even flinch when she looked our way in the parking lot."
"You're right." My jaw unclenches. Nikki never had a poker face. She spoke her mind. I loved that about her.
Hell, it took balls for her to spell out the explicit fantasies in her diary. I wish she'd told us. I could have made her dreams come true instead of worrying my thoughts were too taboo for my little stepsister.
We've gone several miles down the highway without either of us saying a word.
I break the silence. "They say everyone has a doppelganger…"
"We'll know soon enough." I merge left, matching her lane change. "Either way we have to approach her carefully."
She flips on her blinker. We're finally getting off the highway.
"Help me keep an eye on her."
Dylan leans forward. "You think she noticed us?"
"How the fuck should I know?"
"Probably not, you could get closer."
"I don't want to scare her." I cast a questioning glance at Dylan.
"If we knew she'd go to a police station, that wouldn't be such a bad idea. We've got the photos and stuff to prove we're not psychos."
"Or that we're stalkers."
She pulls into a parking lot with a large, non-descript building. The sign reads, Aubergine Affair.
I turn into the full parking lot. "That name mean anything to you?"
Dylan pulls out his phone. "Give me a second."
I fall in line behind a few other cars, all searching for a spot.
"Fuck," he says. "The Aubergine Affair is a sex club."
My foot slams the brake as I nearly hit the car in front of me. "What? Nikki's a stripper?"
"A sex club, not a strip club."
"What's the difference?"
"There's a big difference, but we have bigger problems."
"What could be worse than our amnesiac stepsister being a stripper?"
"She's not a stripper."
"You don't know that."
"Fine, you're right, as always. But tonight, the club is hosting a virgin auction."
"Oh shit!"
We know from her diary that, at least three months ago she was a virgin, but if she knows she is… Did she get her memory back?
I finally snagged a spot at the farthest edge of the lot, and was barely able to see where Nikki went.
We sprint to the entrance she used, but a bouncer plants himself squarely in our path. He points past us. "Bidders use the main entrance."
I point to the door Nikki used. "We know the woman who just went in. Need to talk to her."
He chuckles, deep and dismissive. "For the right price, you can do more than talk."
My fists ball but a fight won't help us get to her. "I'm serious. It's a family matter."
Dylan steps up. "She's our sister. We need her—"
The bouncer's laugh booms. "Call her."
I lean forward, my voice as solid as steel. "She's our stepsister and she—"
"Stepsister. That's a hot ticket around here. One year, all of the women were won by their stepbrothers." He smirks, unfazed.
"It's not like that." The lie sits heavy and useless.
"Get your checkbooks ready," he says, jerking his chin at the main entrance. "Or someone else gets to talk to her tonight."
Another bouncer steps up, his hand on his radio. "I can escort you to the main entrance, or if you're going to cause trouble, the cops can—"
Dylan raises his palms. "No trouble. We just need details. How do we sign up?"
The bouncer lays it out while escorting us to the main entrance. The auction kicks off in minutes, bids are anticipated to hit the million-dollar mark. The money goes to charity, and we learn a new term… reverse harem.
I try one last time. "You sure I can't get a message to her?"
"Laz would have my balls if I interfered with his auction."
"Understood." I whip out my phone, dial our accountant and tell Dylan to get us registered.
Inside, the stage is brightly lit while the rest of the room is dim. Dylan waves me to seats on the far side of the room.
The emcee announces the first woman up for auction, a woman with a kid. What the fuck? She's a guardian, not a biological mother, but still. Isn't that weird?
The important thing is that it's not Nikki.
I study the room, unable to believe an event like this is real. Bids escalate until one guy passes the million-dollar mark for a win.
During the transition, I read the program again. No Nikki. Jolene just went. "You suppose Nikki's going by Starla? Bellamie? Molly?
The second woman takes the stage. Not Nikki. I'm torn between relieved and nervous. Bids go sky high again, and also for the third woman, only leaving Molly.
The emcee announces, "And now for our fourth and final virgin.
We have another unusual scenario. She might be a virgin, but doesn't know for sure.
She has amnesia. So even if she's had sex, she can't remember it.
I assured her that someone here would help rebuild her memories with the best orgasm of her life. Let's welcome Molly!"
The spotlight shines on Molly—Nikki—as she takes the stage. Her dress is as revealing as the other three. A far cry from the baggy sweats and no makeup. But without a doubt, the dark hair, sharp cheekbones, full, bright lips, and porcelain skin belong to our stepsister.
My heart stops. Three months later and still has amnesia. That’s why she didn't notice us at the grocery store—she doesn't remember us. That’s why she's been gone so long—she doesn't remember her life. Didn't even know where to go home to.
We wanted her before we ever read her diary. It’s time to straighten that out.
Dylan claps my arm. "We have to protect her.”
I want her even more now. I nod, my throat too dry to answer. The need to scream out that we're her brothers is almost too much to stifle. "If we cause a scene, we get kicked out. We have to win her."
She works the crowd, her gaze sweeping tables. Chin up, she waves and flirts with each group of men. Her attention moves closer to us.
What if she recognizes us, gets a memory? Would that freak her out?
Her eyes shift to our table. She pauses, smiles, and waves. Identical to the way she handled every other table.
She doesn't know us.
The bids have topped half a million.
I raise the paddle.
The auctioneer lights up. "We've got a new table entering the fun!"
Nikki's, or should I say Molly's, head tilts as she seems to thank us. I raise the paddle high. No hiding now.
Bids climb while multiple bidders stay in the running. Is this a twist of fate? Dylan and I offering what she begged for in her diary? Something forbidden. Something our mother would never understand.
Is there any way this ends well?
I keep bidding. I’ll go bankrupt before I let anyone else win her. Thankfully, one point five million thins the herd and with a couple more exchanges, we’re the only ones left.
With a final call from the auctioneer, Dylan and I have won our stepsister.