Page 46 of Auctioned

The only reason he didn’t let Topher hurt me wasn’t because he cares. It was because I’m his merchandise. I have to remember that.

“Fine.” My nails dig crescents into the inside of my palms. A spiteful grin splits my face in two. “I’ll shut up.”

A low growl reverberates from his chest. We’re close enough that I feel it. Then he huffs and smooths his thumb over my arm. Once. An affectionate touch.

Yeah, right.

I won’t throw up, no. Baylor needs me here, on the stage, behind her.

“Granted, you’ll need guarantees.” Camden’s smile can be heard over his words. Baylor’s sobs are just as loud. He gives her a subtle shake. “Though we won’t be the ones doing the examination this year. This year, we have a doctor who’ll perform it.”

My stomach dips. My palms go clammy.

When Topher brought me on stage, I suspected the exam table was some kind of a cruel joke. I thought James had lied the night before. That he touched and probed me and made me orgasm for his own sadistic pleasure.

Everyone here, other than Baylor and me, is fucking insane.

“No.” Her anguished cry bounces off the walls. A redheaded woman in an emerald gown and the man to her side share a look. Share a laugh. Jesus Christ. “Please, please. Somebody help me. I was kidnapped. I’m not—I said no. I swear I said no.”

Baylor’s begging gets a low applause from thebuyers. The psychos.

They’re entertained.

My stomach roils. I’m going to be sick.

I’m too shocked to be sick.

Someone is actually coming to examine her. Us.

A doctor. An older bald man in a white lab coat brushes past Topher. He’s waited behind the scenes, and now he’s here, slamming his black leather bag onto the metal table next to the exam table.

“All set,” the brittle man announces, pushing his large glasses up onto his nose.

“Let’s go.” I watch, horrified, as Camden spins him and Baylor to us.

“No!” she screams. Tears stream down her cheeks. No black streaks here. Only the best mascara for us miserable sacrifices. “Please, don’t do this. I s-s-swear I’m a virgin. You believed me before, didn’t you? Camden. Camden. Please.”

My body goes numb. Last night, I basically said the exact same words to James. Cried and pleaded and demeaned myself. Everything I could to get him to stop.

Only difference is, deep down, I liked it. I refused him, but there was no hiding how much I enjoyed his attention. His touch. His sickness.

He could tell I did.

Prick.

“Please,” Baylor cries, and I can’t take it.

My rage is too hard to contain. Someone has to be on the receiving end of it.

And that someone is James. I lock eyes with him again, against my better judgment.

Darkness clouds his features. His jaw tics.

I really don’t think he likes what’s going on here, yet no part of him raises his voice to put an end to this.

Fuck you, I shout at him in my head.Fuck you for making me come. Fuck you for the hope you planted inside me. For making me hate you any less than I should. I’ll see you in hell, motherfucker.

He tilts his head like he might actually hear me. Like I amuse him.

---