Page 13 of My Soul for Sale

Now, I just need to shower.

I pad across the floor, and as the bathroom door creaks open, I step inside and turn on the light. After finding the perfect temperature, steam billows from the shower. I shed my clothes and twirl in front of the mirror before stepping inside.

The water cascades over me, warm and comforting, washing away my nerves. I massage shampoo into my hair, the scent of mango mingling with the steamy air.

Thoughts of tonight swirl in my mind, excitement simmering beneath the surface.

I scrub my skin clean, feeling rejuvenated as I prepare for the big night ahead. I let the water run a little longer, relishing the solitude and the promise of what's to come before stepping out.

I grab a towel and dry off before sliding into a magenta sundress, the fabric cool against my skin, perfect for the warm evening weather. Facing the mirror once more, I spin around, the vibrant colors lifting my spirits. With a smile, I slip on a pair of boots and my denim jacket. I’m ready for my ride to get here and take me to a life of not worrying about shit.

Taking a seat on the couch, I scroll TikTok while I wait. I wonder if Edward told everyone my name for tonight or if I need to introduce myself as such. I decided to use the nickname Grandma used to call me—Birdie.

She said that when I was little and she’d feed me or offer me a bite of something, I’d open my mouth like a baby bird. So she called me Birdie, and it stuck. Even in her obituary, it said survived by her granddaughter, Birdie (Sloane).

A knock on the door has me dropping my phone.

“Shit!” I hiss as I bend to pick it up.

I stand up and hurry to answer it, swinging it open. An older man in a tuxedo is standing on the other side. He’s even wearing driving gloves.

“Hello, Birdie.” He tips his hat at me and I smile. “I’m Maxwell. I’m here to take you to Club Lust.”

“Perfect. Let me just grab my bag and I’m ready,” I say as I leave him at the door. Rushing to my bedroom, I grab it by the straps and sling it over my shoulder, before running back to where my driver awaits.

Maxwell steps to the side, allowing me to walk out, and I lock the door, dropping my keys in my bag. I won’t need them again until early Monday morning.

He leads me to a fancy black town car, his confident stride telling me he’s done this before.

I wonder if this is something he does every year? How much does one get paid to deliver a willing vagina or dick to an auction? Maybe I should ask Edward if I can have that job when my weekend is up. I can’t be auctioned again since the rules state this is a once-in-a-lifetime deal. But I could get myself a sweet driver outfit and deliver merchandise in the following years.

He opens the door, holding it so I can climb inside. I slide across the plush leather seat, greeted by the subtle scent of luxury. Maxwell's professionalism shines as he checks that I'm comfortably settled and buckled up. As he closes the door with a soft thud, I feel a sense of reassurance wash over me.

Maxwell settles into the driver's seat, the familiar sound of the song on the radio playing as he starts the car and pulls away.

With a confident hand, he guides the town car through the bustling streets, the city lights painting streaks across the windshield. My leg bounces along to the radio as I watch out the window.

We pull up in front of a large, abandoned looking warehouse and my eyes widen, breath hitching with uncertainty.

Dammit! I knew this was too good to be true. I’m gonna be auctioned off alright, but instead of being a sexy guest, I’m gonna end up sold to a serial killer like in that movie, Hostel.

Maxwell catches my eye in the rearview mirror. "Hey, don't worry," he assures me in a calming tone. "This is Club Lust, as promised.”

He gets out and comes to the back, opening my door. I get out, grab my bag, and look up at the building. “Maxwell, I’m starting to think I’ve been played.”

“The outside is supposed to give off that old-school rave vibe.” He does air quotes around old school. “The inside is a whole different story. I wouldn’t drop anyone off to be murdered. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. You'll be more than okay once we're in there.”

“I don’t know why, Maxwell, but I’m gonna trust you. If you get me murdered, I’m coming back and haunting you forever.” I wink at him.

“The setup also keeps prying eyes and ears off the event every year. Try to relax. You're in good hands." Maxwell extends his elbow, a silent invitation for me to follow.

I loop mine through it, and he escorts me through the entrance of Club Lust. We walk in silence, Maxwell's presence a steady reassurance beside me. We approach an elevator and he pushes a code of some sort in before smiling at me. The doors glide open smoothly, revealing an empty cabin.

Without hesitation, he pulls me gently inside. The doors close behind us, and after Maxwell pushes a button, the elevator begins its descent.

Down? We came in on street level… so where are we going?

When we reach our destination, the doors slide back open, revealing a woman waiting for us, a large smile on her face.

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