Page 16 of Peyton's Price

Peyton knew her future was bleak. She had no skills that criminals would value. Yes, she was a fair hacker, but they didn’t know anything about that moonlighting stint of hers in college. She hadn’t had enough time to make a reputation for herself in Silicon Valley, so clearly Dylan hadn’t sold her for her way with computers.

That left two options. Either she was going to be forced to be a drug mule, or she was going to be sold for sex. Of the two, the latter was more likely. If they had wanted a drug mule, taking her from her home seemed an unnecessary step. They could have forced her to agree to terms back at Dylan’s house.

So sex it is.It was almost funny. She was going to be a prostitute instead of a programmer. After all these years, Peyton was going to find out what she’d been missing—in the most appalling circumstances she could possibly think of.

It was worse than a nightmare. Despite the near miss she had told Ethan about, she hadn’t dwelled on the incident after it happened, except perhaps to canonize the man who had rescued her. Peyton had channeled all that fear and angst into something else…love. Sure, it hadn’t been wanted or even recognized, but at least she had loved once in her life. Just once.

It would have to be enough. After what was waiting for her, she was fairly sure she’d never love anyone or anything again. Which meant she had little choice about what she had to do next.

The first chance she got, Peyton was going to escape…or die trying.

* * *

A vicious slap woke her.Rearing back, Peyton pulled away, wincing. She blinked up at the man and woman who stood over her, struggling to focus on their faces.Shit. The fact her captors weren’t wearing masks was a bad sign. It meant they didn’t care if she could identify them. They were either confident in their ability to stay out of the reach of the authorities, or…

There were a million questions going through her mind, but she knew better than to waste her time asking them. There would be no answers, not when the odds were two against one and the muscle at the door was armed.

“What happens next?” Peyton’s voice was hoarse from disuse.

The woman, an attractive brunette in her early fifties, smiled hatefully. “I heard you were smart. Thank you for not wasting my time,” she said in a thickly accented voice. Peyton couldn’t pinpoint the accent. It sounded vaguely Baltic in origin.

The woman checked her clipboard. “Well, well. It seems you’re top tier. I hadn’t expected that at your age.”

“Top tier?” Peyton asked, a sinking feeling in her belly.

“A verified virgin,” the woman supplied, sniffing and running her finger along the paper. “It means you’ll go on the auction block after the others. We always save your kind for last.”

“How was I verified?”

“A medical test when you arrived,” the woman answered without looking at her. “Of course, between you and me, those results don’t mean much. However, men set such a store by them. At best, we can confirm a lack of recent sexual activity. With your seller’s assurance you are pure, it’s enough for us to sell you that way.”

The woman’s head drew back as she studied Peyton up and down. “Personally, I don’t think an oddity such as yourself will fetch very much, but my employers seem to think a virgin of your age can make as much as the preteens.”

Never in her life had Peyton ever wanted to be a man more. If she were as big and as strong as Liam, she could wrestle the gun out of that asshole’s hand and shoot this evil bitch.

“If I’m so worthless, why bother selling me at all?”

The woman smirked. “Be grateful you’re going to auction. If you hadn’t, we would have put you to work the minute your arrived, awake or asleep. It wouldn’t have mattered. The men who pay us don’t care.”

The woman retreated, waving forward a small bent woman carrying several buckets of water.

“Wash. Once you are done, we will bring you fresh clothes, then you’ll be transported. You will reach the auction site in a few days.”

“And if I don’t what? A bullet in the head now?”

“Of course not. We simply market you to different buyers. The unwilling ones make some profit. Some clients enjoy the fight, although the poor dears don’t last as long. My advice—if you want to survive, keep your head down. Be subservient and docile. You might get lucky. With your college grades and advanced degree, you might well be chosen as a breeder. It helps that you are white. Other races aren’t chosen for that honor nearly as often.”

The woman gestured at the buckets. “So now you wash.”

“I guess it would be too much to ask for privacy, huh?” Peyton kept one eye on the armed man watching her with slumberous eyes.

The woman’s face tightened. “No. We don’t take chances with our merchandise. But have no fear. This one has seen it all, and he knows better than to depreciate your value.”

Lips compressed, Peyton reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it off before standing to strip off the rest of her soiled clothes.

Chapter 10

Liam pounded on the door of Peyton and Dylan’s house. He’d flown in yesterday, sending half a dozen texts and voicemails to her phone, requesting dinner.

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