Chapter 11
“Do I hear five thousand?”
The auctioneer’s voice boomed out across the room as the girl before me was auctioned off. She was gorgeous, like a walking doll in her sparkling blue gown, her chestnut hair shining in the stage lights.
Nerves trilled through me like the bracelets tinkling down my arm. I licked at my lips, the familiar taste of peach from my lip gloss doing nothing to calm me.
How the hell had I let my mother rope me into this? It was going to be a complete fucking disaster.
I glanced behind me at the line of girls still waiting to be sold like cattle, then to the open door behind them. I could make a run for it. Bolt like a spooked horse and tell my mother I got sick.
Only she’d never buy it and I’d never hear the end of it, and the consequences of skipping out on this event meant the next thing she asked of me would be three times as heinous.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK.
“Sold!” the auctioneer shouted into the microphone, polite applause breaking out in the room.
The girl before me stepped off the stage and my name was called. When I didn’t immediately race forward, the girl behind me gave me a not-so-friendly shove into the spotlight. I stumbled over my dress, righting myself and forcing my shoulders back as I strolled across the stage to stand beside the auctioneer.
I caught my mother’s eye at a table in the center of the crowded room. She motioned for me to smile and I willed one onto my face.
We hadn’t even started and I already hated this with the fire of a thousand suns.
“Next up, we have the new jewel of the Aston family, Miss Dempsey Aston.”
It was Dempsey Falconer actually, but I wasn’t about to correct him and have one of these rich chumps send a direct line to my father about what his missing daughter was up to. He’d made it clear with his notes and the stalker video that he knew where I was and how to find me. The thought sent a shiver of fear through me, but I pushed it aside and lifted my chin.
I had to get through this insane event. I didn’t have time to think about my father right now.
“We’ll open the bidding on a night with Miss Aston at five thousand dollars.”
My gaze cut to the auctioneer. Was he crazy? That’s how much the girl before me had sold for in total. Why the hell did he think I could pull in more than that? These people didn’t know me, they weren’t going to part with their money that easily.
“Five thousand!” came a voice from the left side of the room.
I squinted through the stage lights to find Trenton in all his arrogant, confident glory. He gave me a smug nod and, if I wasn’t all too aware of just how terrible he was in bed, it might have worked for me.
A voice came from the back of the room, pushing the bid to seven. Then another to the right moving it up to eight.
These people had more money than sense if they thought a night with me was worth that much. Especially when I planned on sitting at dinner like a mute.
A man to the left of the stage near the front raised his hand.
“Ten thousand dollars.”
I tried to mask the way I was cringing on the inside and stop it showing on my face. He was a balding, sweaty, leery type of man. He looked like someone who couldn’t keep his hands to himself and acted like it was an accident every time his hand brushed your ass or your breasts as you spoke to him.
Oh, hell no.
Glancing back at my mother’s table in panic, my stepbrothers stared back at me on the stage, a picture of nonchalance and disinterest. Dacre was slouched back in his chair, drink in hand. Presley was flirting with the girl seated beside him, while Sinclair twirled his glass on the tabletop. Veda sat at his side leaning into him, but his eyes stayed trained on me.
Bids went up around the room, pushing the auction price higher and higher, but the balding leech just kept bidding.
I stared back at Sin, allowing my desperate pleading to bleed into my expression.
If he wanted me to beg, I would. I’d take back every word I’d ever said to him and get down on my knees if that’s what it would take for one of them to save me from my fate right now.
But none of them moved to raise a hand or place a bid.
I bit my lip, glancing down at my shoes and accepting that this was destined to be a long night from hell.
“Twenty thousand!” came a voice from a table near the front on the other side of the auctioneer.
I bent forward to glance around the auctioneer’s podium. The guy had to be pushing sixty, the same age as my stepfather. While he smiled back at me and appeared to be a much more appealing option than the balding leech, I still didn’t want to spend the night with a man old enough to be my father who got off on bidding on young girls for sport.
“Come on,” I muttered to myself, pleading with my stepbrothers even though they couldn’t hear me.
Dacre sat forward and muttered something to Sin, but he shook his head, his eyes never leaving me. The bastard was loving this. He was making me pay for the standoffish way I’d treated them since I’d arrived. I’d need to remind myself to key his precious car the minute I got home after this disaster of an evening.
The balding leech and the man to the right went to battle over me, pushing the bids so high that everyone else bowed out.
“Twenty-eight thousand I have now, a record price so far tonight,” the auctioneer called. “The bid is back with you, sir.” He motioned to the balding leech who’d somehow grown even sweatier than when we’d started.
He eyed me like a steak he wanted to devour for dinner.
Please, no.
“Thirty thousand,” Mr. Sweaty and Sinister called.
My eyes landed on my stepbrothers again. Presley had finished flirting with the girl beside him and was now staring up at the stage. He still made no move to bid, though.
I glared at Sinclair. Whether the others were willing to admit it or not, they deferred to him. He was the leader of their little hot brother trio.
A smirk spread across his stupid mouth, and I cursed under my breath.
It didn’t matter how much I pleaded or begged with my eyes, those boys weren’t going to lift a hand to help me.
“Fifty thousand dollars,” called the man to my right, and collective noises of surprise went up around the room.
What the actual fuck…
“Wow, that’s quite a price tag for a night with the lovely Miss Aston!” the auctioneer said, clearly delighted that the two men had made his job so easy by fighting it out amongst themselves.
He appealed to Mr. Sweaty once more, who bowed out with a shake of his head. The auctioneer banged his hammer down on fifty thousand dollars to the man who was as old as my stepfather, and my shoulders slumped as I rushed from the stage.
This was going to be a heinous night.
An hour later when the auction had wrapped, along with the fundraiser where I’d been forced to sit through a meal with the same stepbrothers who had refused to buy me, I received a message from a waiter.
He approached me as I got up from the table to leave.
“Miss, I have a message from Mr. Sensewell,” he said quietly, aiming for discreet.
I frowned.
“The man who purchased you at auction, Miss Aston.”
“Oh… right… yes. What’s the message?”
The waiter smiled politely. “He’ll meet you at the valet drive in fifteen minutes.” Then he disappeared back to wherever he’d come from, most likely to continue to serve his master. Mr. Sensewell really couldn’t have come over and told me that himself? He had to pay someone to do that for him?
My mother stood from her seat beside Byron and glided over to my side, brushing my hair back over my shoulder. “That gives you enough time to change and freshen up.”
Freshen up? What the hell did she think I needed to be fresh for? Some old guy to feel me up in the front seat of his Mercedes?
“I thought you said this auction was about my company for the night, nothing else?”
My mother frowned. “Of course it is, Dempsey. Whatever are you implying?”
“That he paid for the privilege of railing her without having to care about her feelings afterwards,” Presley offered from across the table with his most charming smile.
“Presley!” Byron snapped. “Speak like that about your sister again and I’ll cut off your credit card for six months.”
I shot Presley my best ‘screw you’ smile.
“Go and get changed. I bought you another dress for tonight,” my mother said, shooing me towards the dressing room.
I complied, mostly because it would give me a moment to breathe without a million eyes on me. I’d need to psych myself up for this heinous life experience. Only the wealthy would think auctioning off their daughters to their friends was a good idea.
The dressing room was mostly deserted with only a few makeup artists and hair stylists packing up, along with a few girls who had clearly been sent back here with the same directive as I had.
I gripped the edge of the counter with both hands, dropping my head and taking several deep breaths.
I could do this. It would be fine. I had to do this.
Did I though? I could bolt.
No, my mother would murder me seven ways to Sunday and send the pieces of me back to my father. There was no escaping it. And my mother’s punishment would likely be worse than whatever this man had in store for me.
“It feels heinous, right?” came a voice to my left.
My head popped up and I eyed the girl two seats over, dabbing at her lips in the mirror.
“Excuse me?”
“This whole event. It’s a bullshit excuse for a charity event. It’s just a chance for creepy old men to force themselves on young girls.” She rolled her eyes, turning back to the mirror.
“Glad I’m not the only one who thinks so,” I offered. “Any tips to get me through it?”
She smacked her lips together, assessing her reflection with an approving nod.
“Don’t blow him for less than three thousand and don’t sleep with him for less than ten. These assholes can afford it. Oh, and always get payment upfront. I learned that one the hard way my first year.”
With that she turned on her heel and sauntered off towards the door.
She was joking, right?
There was no way in hell I was sleeping with the old guy who’d bought me. Not even for ten thousand dollars.
Blowing out a long breath, I moved to the racks at the end of the room. I unzipped the garment bag on mine, eyeing the dress my mother had chosen for me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
It was a glorified milk maid dress, albeit a modernized version of one. It was white, with thin straps at the shoulders, a balconette chest with a drawstring that would completely expose the shape of my breasts. It was coupled with a corset around my ribs and a draped angled skirt that stopped mid-thigh. It was cute. A little too cute though, in a sexy, come-and-get-it kind of way. My mother had paired it with white strappy heels I’d nearly broken an ankle getting into.
Anger flooded me as I stared at the outfit. Did she think I was just some doll she could dress up and pimp out to her new husband’s friends? I was her damn daughter. Was this really all I meant to her now? This was how she wanted me to repay my apparent debt to her?
Begrudgingly, I pulled the dress from the bag and slipped it on, because what fucking choice did I have? I had no money and nowhere else to go, which meant I was forced to go along with my mother’s outrageous expectations of me.
Maybe if I took too long getting changed, Mr. Sensewell would grow bored and agitated and leave me behind.
A girl could dream.
Except when I stepped outside to the circular valet forecourt there were several cars still idling, along with a black stretch limo with dark tinted windows.
“Excuse me?” I asked the valet. “Do you know which car belongs to Mr. Sensewell?”
The valet motioned to the stretch limo, because of course it was. Nothing said filthy rich quite like a car three times longer than standard, that was a bitch to park, took up half the road, and came with a driver in a stupid hat.
But the sooner I got in that car, the sooner I could get out of it.
I’d go to dinner, smile politely, say as few words as possible, then when I got home, I’d lock myself in my room and take a long scalding shower to scrub this entire night from my skin.
If he dared touch me, I’d scream. I didn’t care about fancy restaurants or impressing other rich families like my mother did. I’d scream the building down if that’s what it took to keep this man away from me.
Squaring my shoulders, I approached the limo. As I drew close, the back door opened, but it was too dark inside to see much of anything.
I hesitated, indecision warring inside me. I wanted to bolt, the voice inside my head screaming at me to run. But another part, the small obedient part of my brain, told me I had nowhere to go.
Before I could decide, a suit-clad arm reached out, fingers closing around my wrist and yanking me forward.
I ducked, narrowly missing being decapitated by the roof of the limo as I was pulled inside, landing in a heap on the plush-carpeted floor.
“Damn it!” I rubbed at my elbow and ass bone that had both collided with something on my way in. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I glared up at the suit who’d man-handled me, expecting to find Mr. Sensewell.
My eyes widened as Dacre smirked down at me.
“You were taking too long. If I had to watch you weigh up whether to climb in or cut and run for a second longer, I was going to fucking expire from pity or boredom.”
Chuckles sounded behind me and I glanced over my shoulder to find Presley and Sinclair sprawled on the seats, legs splayed like the arrogant assholes they were.
I glared at each of them. “I didn’t know people like you were capable of normal human emotions like pity.”
Climbing off the floor, I slid into the seat beside Dacre, facing forward. Presley was in the long bench seat that ran along the right-hand side, while Sinclair was at the far end, facing us and half cast in shadow.
“Is that the thanks we get for saving your fine little ass?” Presley said, eyes running over me. “And that’s quite a fucking dress, Sass.”
I crossed one leg over the other to ensure I didn’t flash them again. They would have seen enough of me when I tumbled into the car at their feet.
“Thank you, I guess? Although you’ve just ensured my mother’s wrath by stealing me away from Mr. Sensewell.”
Chuckles again. I hated being the butt of a joke I didn’t understand.
“What the hell is so funny?”
The limousine started moving, the lights we passed slanting across Sinclair’s face down the far end. “Rowan Sensewell was my mentor at my dad’s company before I went out on my own.” He smirked wider than he ever had. “I asked him to buy you.”
I froze, surprise ebbing through me. Their relaxed stances at the table. Their less than interested glances during the auction. They knew Mr. Sensewell had it covered, that’s why they looked like they didn’t care. That was why my pleading looks had been ignored.
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you looked like a desperate little lamb being led to slaughter up there, Bambi,” Dacre said, handing me a tumbler with ice and what smelled like whiskey inside.
I took an extra-large gulp. I’d just gone from thinking I was going to have to spend hours fending off an old guy who thought he was going to pay me to service him, to learning that my stepbrothers had saved me.
I now had to grapple with the idea that maybe these three weren’t actually as bad as I thought? That maybe they were actually pretty decent?
“It was ridiculous of your mother to suggest you participate in that glorified sex ring,” Sinclair said, his expression hardening.
His eyes locked on mine, something passing between us. Some kind of understanding, maybe? Whatever I’d felt towards them before, all I felt right now was a deep sense of gratitude.
“We told you at the wedding,” Presley said, leaning forward so I could see his face clearly. “You’re one of us now, whether you want it or not.”
Not, not, not.
Part of me wanted to scream the word at them. But another smaller, more secret part of me liked the sense of belonging they were offering me. It was something I’d never had.
From the outside my parents and I had appeared to be a normal, loving family. But my father had used me like bait, while my mother turned a blind eye to it. I’d never felt like I belonged or was worthy of being loved. While my mother may have saved me from my father, now it was her turn to treat me like a pawn to be used.
So, yeah… a sense of belonging wasn’t something I had ever felt before. It was something I had no idea what to do with.
I said nothing, taking another sip of my drink and letting the alcohol burn down my throat instead.
Silence filled the car, nothing but the rumble of the engine.
“Thank you,” I said eventually, glancing at each of them.
Presley grinned back at me. “Don’t mention it.”
“No, really, don’t mention it,” Dacre added. “Sin doesn’t like being reminded that he has a heart.”
I smiled to myself. “Consider it forgotten.”
The world moved by fast outside the window, taking me to God knows where, but at least it wasn’t to get railed by an old dude… I didn’t think.
“Where are we going?”
Presley pushed back in his seat, legs spreading wide. “We’re going to do what we do best.”
Dacre knocked his glass with mine. “We’re going to party.”