Page 24 of Quiet Confessions: Part Two

“I would rather that they’re together,” he admits. “It almost helps me a little knowing this. The auction is in exactly a week. What if we don’t figure this shit out in time?”

“Richard made me go on a date with a woman who runs a collection of sex clubs. I wonder if he’ll set me up with her again,” I mutter. Cal and Nate look up at me in alarm, and I shake my head. “I’m not at all interested in anyone but Pay. I’m just wondering if I could get any information on this experience company.”

Frowning, I look up the company in an internet search engine, but instead only find hits on extreme sports companies.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“Search ‘sex experiences’,” Nate offers, still absorbed in his work.

I spend the next hour looking up different options, and I’m ready to scream. Right before I throw the laptop, I find an obscure posting which matches one of the towns on the outskirts of Boston.

“Oh, fuck. Nate, can you read off the listing in the warehouse district in Arlington for me please?” I ask.

Nate looks over at me, and can tell I’ve found something. “4322 Walsh Palace Avenue,” he responds. “Did you find something?”

“Yeah,” I sigh as I run the address through a database that I found to see who owns the warehouse. Isabella Andrews: Owner.

Richard James is a rat bastard that deserves to live in Hell forever. He dangled Isabella over me, and I was none the wiser. I vow to take him down.

Prison may actually be too good for him.

“You’re never going to believe this,” I tell them, my fist slamming into the desk I’m perched on. “Fucking asshole! I found out where the auctions are, and how to get an invite. It’s in a post I found online.”

“Damn, Ki,” Cal says, his jaw dropping. “Who’s an asshole, because I feel as if we’re dealing with a lot of them right now?”

I don’t want to laugh, but I bark one out anyway. “Remember how Richard forced me on a date with Isabella? I just figured out who owns the warehouse for this auction. It’s fucking Isabella!”

“Do you think he knew?” Nate whispers and Cal snorts.

“Richard James is an insufferable bastard. I’d bet good money that he knew,” he tells his brother.

“He was baiting me when he left the package in my car. Richard said that ‘time was running out.’ I was certain that, on some level, he cared about his granddaughter, even if it was just a tiny bit. But he’s leaving her in a sex trafficking ring,” I rasp. “Fuck, I need some air. I’ll be right back.”

The twins nod because they understand I need some time. I walk blindly out of the office, swallowing thickly around the bile that’s clawing up my throat.

“You alright, man?” the bouncer asks and I nod. I know I look drunk as I stumble to my car.

The suit that I typically wear everywhere in an effort to fit the teacher façade is suffocating me. Unknotting my tie, I unbutton my shirt a bit so I can breathe. Dropping my head back, I force myself to breathe.

I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to Pay because I didn’t put it all together fast enough.

ROOKE

“Is everything ready for the auction?” one of the guards asks the men who are in the room with me. It’s another solo session today. There’s been more and more talk about a big auction happening, and emptying the cages for incoming stock.

We’re basically human cattle to these people to be bought and sold. I’m still a little bruised after my stunt with Isabella and my ribs hurt, but it’s not the worst thing in the world. My worries feel so much bigger than my bumps and bruises, so I push them to the side.

What if Patience and I are sold to different people?

The Experience, as I’ve realized that the men here call this place, has been a nightmare. The only thing that helps is knowing I’m close enough to give Pay solace. It’ll kill me if we’re separated.

Isabella said the club members loved the live performance the other night, which doesn’t mean jack shit to me. Whatever drug they gave me made me a lot more aggressive than usual, and I noticed that Patience was sore the following day. She insisted that she was fine, but I felt bad about it.

I tend to save my aggression for Cal. Fuck, I miss him. I wonder if they’ve figured out that I was taken, or that Patience is with me. I know her client recognized her while she was in the glass cage with me, and I can only pray that he said something.

“The Boss is really happy with this group that’s being auctioned off,” the guard continues as I fuck my own ass with a dildo. “Fist your cock! I want to see you make a mess, little whore!”

This guard has a thing for watching during my solo sessions. He’s constantly making excuses to be in the room during them and he makes a point to direct from the sidelines. The cameraman makes an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, but doesn’t correct him.

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