Page 189 of I Will Mend You

Their chatter ceases as we cross the room and head toward a bed set up opposite the wet bar, surrounded by studio lights on tripods. All eyes turn to me, making my heart want to break through my chest and leap out of the window.

The men rise off the sofas, approaching like hyenas catching the scent of carrion. I shiver, feeling exposed in this gingham dress and more vulnerable than I did at the asylum.

Back then, the crew members were more interested in creating the movie, and I was just another victim sent to die.

Here, I’m the main attraction.

Delta sets me down on a rubber sheet. “Gentlemen, give us a few minutes to set up the auction.”

Twelve men form a small crowd around the bed. Their ages range from late thirties to about eighty, yet they all stare with the same predatory gleam. A sick hunger thickens the air, making every molecule tremble with unleashed tension.

“Dolly,” one of the men rasps. “Suck my cock.”

The others snicker.

My limbs are still heavy from the drugs, but there’s nothing wrong with my jaws. If he brings that putrid penis near my lips, I’ll bite it like a sausage.

As Delta draws back, I grab his lapel, making him raise his brow. “I only got a half dose of the antidote.”

Frowning, he beckons to someone standing by the wet bar. “Come here. Administer Dolly a full shot of Nano Epinephrine.”

Moments later, Locke slithers through the crowd, holding a syringe. He slides its needle into my arm, delivering a sting, followed by warm liquid. It courses through my veins, restoring my strength.

As he draws back, a man with a bad comb-over tries to mount the bed. He’s just like the hallucinations of my dead music teacher, only this time, my mind is clear. I kick out at him, making the others chuckle.

BANG!

Everyone’s attention swings to the other side of the room. A second crash confirms the source of the sound—a set of double doors secured by a wooden crossbar.

It sounds like someone’s attacking it with a battering ram.

My breath catches. I move my limbs, infusing them with sensation and strength.

Is that a rescue party?

“What the hell is that?” asks a silver-haired man in a burgundy smoking jacket.

Delta chuckles. “That’s my new star, Xero Greaves, making his grand entrance.”

Nervous laughter ripples through the room, prompting several men to retreat from the bed. Mr. Combover stays put, as if eager for a front-row seat to the unfolding drama. Shivers race down my spine, my insides oscillating beweteen hope and fear.

Delta claps a hand on Locke’s shoulder before retreating from the bed. “Start the auction.”

Locke describes Dolly in dehumanizing terms, recapping the movies she survived. But my focus is on the double doors. The wood holding them together creaks under pressure, and I shift on the mattress, sliding a hand beneath a rubber pillow. Something sharp pricks my finger, and I flinch. When I fumble with the object’s contours, I realize it’s an ice pick.

As the men bid for first dibs on me after Xero, I reach beneath the second pillow and find the shaft of a bladed tool. It's heavy, with an edge that feels like a cleaver. Movement out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. It's Delta sneaking past the wet bar and disappearing through a door.

My brow pinches. Why isn’t Delta warning everyone else to run? Slipping the ice pick into the pocket of my pinafore, I scoot to the edge of the mattress with the cleaver behind my back.

The men continue bidding, and the room erupts in excited chatter. Some rub their hands as the crossbar cracks. My breath catches. Xero is seconds away from breaking down the door. With my heart pumping adrenaline and power, I roll myshoulders, my veins thrumming with anticipation. The moment he charges in, I’ll strike.

“Sold for five hundred thousand,” Locke cries to a round of polite applause.

The winner is the silver-haired man in the burgundy jacket. He extracts his phone and taps a few commands onto its screen. I can only assume he’s transferring payment.

Locke strides to the doors and lifts the barricade. They fly open, revealing Xero, platinum-haired, naked, and covered in blood. The men scatter across the room like rodents.

My jaw drops. What the hell did they do to him?

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