Except…he hadn’t been this way this morning. So what the hell happened between then and now to make him act this way?
As he sorted through his own rack, he gathered a crisp white shirt, a dark gray suit, and shoes and belt that matched, I quietly and fearfully asked, “Did something happen with the phone call you didn’t want to take?”
Irritated, he replied, “None of your f**king business. Now get ready.” Without looking at me he took his stash and left the bathroom.
I reluctantly walked to the mirror, dropping the shoes onto the counter. My eyes bulged as I glanced in the part of the mirror that angled downward to show me my entire body. Oh, my God. He was going to take me to a party, which was surely filled with sex traffickers, and this dress hung one inch below the curve of my ass standing up.
I didn’t want to piss him off any more than he already was, so I was quick to paint my face with the makeup in the drawer and pull my hair back in a sleek ponytail like he’d instructed. The main bedroom door was wide open but Zander was gone. Afraid I’d lost privileges all of a sudden, I paused at the door and peeked out. Was I supposed to follow or wait here? My fifteen minutes were up.
“Zander?” I called out a little fearfully.
“Come on. Move it,” he ordered out of sight and across the house. I hurried down the hallway, giving a look of longing at Nick’s locked door, and headed into the living room. I was just about to turn through the opened kitchen door when he suddenly appeared in the doorway. I ran right into him, my hands landing flat against his chest.
I gasped and flinched, afraid I’d receive a good slap right about now. “I’m sorry,” I quickly blurted.
He sighed and stroked his eyebrows outward, sweeping back around to pinch the bridge of his nose. I didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he didn’t seem all that pleased about anything tonight. Surprisingly, he didn’t take it out on me. He grasped my elbow and pulled me through the kitchen and through a laundry room, to a door that had another thumb-print key. Through that last door was a closed garage where two cars sat parked. One was an SUV similar to the one he abducted me in last June, the second was some sports car I couldn’t identify. One of those mid-life crisis kind of cars.
He led me to the SUV and beckoned me through the back door. “Sit in the middle,” he ordered. As I was scootching my bare ass across the leather seat, he added, “Just so you know, the child proof locks are activated so the doors can’t be opened from the inside, and of course, all the glass has been traded out to keep you in. So please don’t bother trying anything stupid because I’m really not in the mood. If I were to beat you tonight, I’d probably seriously injure you.”
He slammed the door so fiercely the entire car shook. I was still trembling when he climbed in and shut the door behind himself. Adjusting the rearview mirror so his cold eyes landed on me instead of the road, he said, “Buckle up. And don’t move from that spot or your ass is going to match the color of your dress.”
Given his mood, I didn’t doubt him. I buckled up and shut my mouth. He started the engine and activated the garage door, but before he pulled out into the open, he leaned back and handed me some type of black material. “Put it over your head.”
Seriously? Fuck. I begrudgingly took it from him, having no remorse that my face expressed exactly what I was feeling. Once he got out of the car twice – which I suspected was for a gate – we drove in silence for a long time. I had no idea where because of the cover. The roads were dirt and gravel for about ten minutes before I felt the change to asphalt. And since he blasted the music, I couldn’t hear anything that would help me figure out where we were. Needless to say, Zander had covered his bases – I wasn’t learning anything useful this trip.
When we got closer to where we going, lost in another patch of woods and gravel roads, he allowed me to pull the cover off. A long winding drive led us to a huge mansion in the middle of nowhere, lights filling every window on the first floor, but few on the second or third. He opened my door and I began to crawl out, but he blocked me from getting completely out. We were just inches apart. Certainly my eyes showed fear, but his began to soften the longer we gazed. Finally, with a voice I was sure he had to force to ease up, he said, “I’m not mad at you, and I’m sorry I had to bring you here tonight. You and I were finally making progress, but I fear tonight will send us two steps back. This isn’t the type of place I ever wanted you to see.”
I wanted to ask why he brought me then, but thought better of it. With a gentleness he hadn’t shown me all night, he helped me out of the car. Already I was nervous about the number of cars I saw parked along this estate. Secluded estate, surrounded by as many trees as Zander’s place seemed to have. He pulled me along, his grip firm above my elbow. My free hand tried desperately to keep the cold wind from blowing my skirt up.
“Once we’re in, stick with me at all times, less you want to be cornered by one of the others. Very few keep girls the way I keep you, so they’ll be drawn to you immediately.”
I groaned inwardly as Zander rang the doorbell. I don’t know why it baffled me so much, but the gray-haired man who answered the door was actually the butler. Seriously. Who would butler for a person who threw parties whose guest list focused on sex traffickers? Did no one in this damn world have morals anymore?
We didn’t bother bringing coats, so we had nothing to offer the man. I looked deeply into his eyes, trying to determine if there was a caring bone in his body that I could affect, but found nothing in those steely grey eyes. Zander pulled me along beyond the foyer, occasionally nodding his head at certain guests. One sweep of the luxurious room with intricately carved panels and crown molding, painted accent walls in midnight blue, expensive-looking settees and oriental floor rugs, and I no longer wanted to look anywhere but my feet.
There were men of all ages scattered about in clean cut suits and designer type clothing, and unfortunately each and every one of them had at least one guest beside them that appeared a little dazed from drugs. I knew that look well. Zander teased me for referring to them as broken. My heart ached for each one of them, particularly the girls who were dressed even more scantily than I was. In fact, I just found a whole new appreciation for the dress he’d put me in. Though I felt practically naked, I had a hell of a lot more clothing on than most. Some of these girls weren’t even lucky enough to have on their tops anymore, their bare br**sts out for all to see, their skirts even shorter than my dress.
Most of the girls in this room were sitting dazedly in or around their owner’s lap. One was stretched over the laps of two men in conversation, who drank liquor with one hand and used their other hand to either feel up her bare chest or beneath her skirt. Worse, the girl was moaning and writhing around on their laps because their attention was so unyielding.
I found myself leaning closer to Zander, and his hand wrapped a little more tightly around my arm. I dared to look up again as we entered a wide hallway lined with five doors to each side and white statues of na**d women placed evenly between. More men were scattered, and I began to realize how seriously outnumbered I was, and how every single one of them tried to undress me with their eyes. Even if I ever had the delusion of losing Zander at one of these so-called parties, I wouldn’t have gotten ten feet before someone else would’ve literally cornered me.
Zander brought us to a halt as a man stopped before him. He was probably mid-forties and average everything – average looking, average height, average build. In fact, this guy was so normal looking I wouldn’t have given him a second thought on the street. I’d probably smile and say hello if he did the same in a coffee line. And that just sickened me, because he was clearly a part of this world.
The way he leered at me made me turn away. I practically gasped as I peered into the room next to me. At least three more men were wondering around, but my shock was reserved for the girls in that room. It was doubtful any of them were older than college-age, and of the four I could see, each was lying na**d on their mattress, strapped down to the metal frame without any slack. For once I was glad they were drugged, because the men who circled the room had no qualms about molesting each and every one of them for as long as they desired.
My face scrunched with disgust, and I twisted and buried myself into Zander’s chest. I wasn’t attuned with what they were discussing, but their conversation stopped dead in its tracks the moment I did that. After a moment of silence, the other man said, “We can discuss this by phone later.”
Zander’s body bounced slightly, so I assumed he nodded.
The man’s footsteps walked away and Zander’s hands gently untangled me from his chest. “Why did you bring me here?” I asked fearfully, because so far no one was really being escorted around like I was. They were put on display either by their owner or strapped to a bed for all the world to play with.
“Those girls are up for auction.” With unnerving blithe, he stated, “You wouldn’t buy a car without test driving it first, right?”
Test driving?! I almost threw up right there. There was definitely a burn rising dangerously high in my throat. And then I remembered what Zander had said about Veronica the night he auctioned her off. How it took so long because she went about the room getting to know each of the buyers intimately. “Oh, my God,” I whined. “Do they actually get to…?”
He knew exactly what I was trying to say. Nonchalantly, he replied, “If they want to, yes. And most will ask to regardless of interest, because a pretty teenage girl is lying there ready to be f**ked. And I’m guessing they’ve recently been picked up because the drugs haven’t made them look ragged yet, which only makes them even more desirable.”
I heard something squeaking from that room and my eyes were suckered into looking back. A man who could’ve been as young as late twenties was pushing one of the rollaway beds out of view. Where to, I didn’t really want to know. Groaning, I asked quietly, “Is that how you got Veronica?”
“That’s disgusting,” he snapped, though only loud enough for me to hear. Surprised, I looked his way. “I’ve sold a few but I’ll never buy a girl who’s been f**ked by everyone in the business before coming into my possession.”
Oh, lucky me. A ra**st who worries about staying clean. How I withheld the eye roll, I’d never know.
“I did buy her through an auction, but at a more private sale where they don’t allow you to sample prior to buying.”
“Why don’t they do that here?”
“You could say this is the domestic value sale whereas I shopped at the luxury event. It costs more to buy there. Most of these men either can’t afford it or prefer the cheaper line because they like to trade out their models routinely and don’t want to make the investment.”
And by cheaper, he meant f**ked by everyone in the business. That’s just gross. And his car references weren’t helping. “What about what your brother did to me?”
Zander gave me his first smile of the night, although I had serious doubts there was any humor behind it. “More than double any girl at the luxury event.”
I didn’t dare ask a monetary value. I just didn’t want to know what the going rate for kidnapping and brainwashing a doppelgänger went for these days. He still hadn’t answered my question about why he brought me here tonight, but at this point, it was one more sliver of information I decided was best to pass on.
He pulled me along in the corridor again. Two doors down, I saw two more men come out and look at me in a way that was disgusting. I peeked in as we walked by, once again gasping. This time I pulled Zander to a stop. “What about them?”
“Virgins,” he said of this round of girls. They too were chained to their beds with their hands pinned above their heads, but their legs were tied together instead of apart, and they wore see-through nighties not too unlike the ones Zander kept in my drawers. But they at least got to wear the bottoms. “Here, buyers can look, even touch the upper half, but are denied all access below the waist.”
Molest the upper half was more like it. I stared in shock as a middle-aged guy, who was sitting on the side of one of the beds, brushed aside the material draped over her chest. The edges looked frayed from breast to belly button, like someone earlier in the night hadn’t liked that it covered her and ripped it open. Now completely exposed for him, he was free to grope as he pleased. The girl stirred to life once he squeezed and pinched her. I could see the panic in her body as she tried to wiggle free of his hands, but was so weakened and pinned down that it didn’t make a difference in the assault. If anything, her reaction turned him on more, making him intensify his fondling. My insides cringed and died a little. Numbly, I said, “Her drugs are wearing off.”
“They don’t drug the virgins. She’s just weak from lack of food.”
“What? Why not?” I cried. My free hand actually flew to my chest in pain for her.
“That’s why they’re kept gagged.”
I was so transfixed on what the man was doing, I hadn’t even noticed her mouth. It was almost the color of her pale flesh, and knotted tightly beneath her loose brown hair. That poor girl couldn’t have been any older than I was when I was first stolen. Shaking my head with grief for her, I repeated, “Why?”
“Probably because the men like to see the fear in their eyes. They get their jollies on being able to touch a girl that’s probably never been touched before. They’re young and frightened. It’s why they love to buy their virginity. Most will actually keep them virgins for quite some time, just to feed off their fear.”