Page 52 of Cherry Auction

I’d heard this happened sometimes with bosses down at the mine. Lads and I joked how we’d kick a gobshite’s teeth down his spine and out his arsehole if they ever tried it with us.

Turns out when the real thing was happening, I just shook there in feckin’ disbelief about what Mr. Harper was doing to me, not making a move and silent as a mouse.

Then he ordered me to get on the floor like a dog.

I didn’t realize it then, but it was the same voice he’d been using with me for months as he taught me code. He’d been conditioning me all along to obey him.

I didn’t really know what the fuck was happening. I just know I got on the floor like a dog.

“Madison,” I call out, my voice almost sing-song. It’s probably just the alcohol, but I feel loose now that Madison’s sins are acknowledged out in the open between us. Free. Let’s be done with all the charades.

In this, let us finally be what we never were: ourselves.

“Oh Madison,” I call again. “There’s really no use inhiding.” I lift my phone. “I have cameras on every room in this property.”

I flip through the feed of the first-floor rooms, sighing impatiently. “This is tedious, Madison. Aren’t we a little too old for hide and seek?”

I don’t see her on the first floor, so I check the hallways, the stairs, and finally, the second floor. There hasn’t been enough time to have made it to the third, yet. I’m methodical, keeping an eye on the stairwells and elevator while I check each room.

Nothing.

And still no perimeter alarms.

Then I frown, knowing it’s probably a waste of time but flicking over to the basement screen, anyway. And there she is.

What the fuck is Madison doing in the basement?

I put two fingers to the phone to zoom in further. At first, I’m immediately furious. I swear to fuck, if this is another cunting trick?—

I stomp over the back stairwell to the basement. I stab in the code to the keypad—the same one as downstairs. 2016. The year my life went all to fuck. The year I met Madison Harper.

I yank the heavy door open and take the stairs two at a time.

“What the fuck, Mads? You think you’re going to win more good girl points by hiding away down here? This is not ascene. I’m having a real conversation with you. The conversation you denied me by running off like the thief you are. It’s called beingaccountablefor fecking once! Do ya hear me?”

She came down here. That means she knows she’s going to get the punishment of a lifetime for pulling this shit. I swear, when I get my hands on her little ass, I’m going to turn itred?—

I shake my head. What the fuck? I literally just said this isn’t a scene. But I’m already thinking about the punishment? And only the kind of punishment that puts my mark on her ass and has her shuddering in pleasure in that ecstatic space I know she likes to go to when she starts feeling really stressed out, getting her worked up for a release?—

“Madison,” I snap when I finally step into the dungeon. She’s exactly where I saw her on camera.

Curled in the tiniest ball in the dog cage. Door shut on top.

“Madison,” I bark.

She stays where she is, curled up as tight as her body could possibly get. It’s not a generous-sized cage. It’s impressive she got all her limbs in and still managed to close the top in on herself.

Finally, she turns her head my way.

Her eyes are wide, a little spacy, and she tilts her head at me. Then her eyes shift away towards the wall.

“Oh, fuck.”

My phone drops to the carpet as I sprint to her side and drop to my knees.

“Madison!”

Something’s wrong.

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