“No touching!” One of the women hurried over to us and slapped our hands as if we were two misbehaving toddlers.
She nudged the barrel of her gun in my back, and I lifted my arms, palms out. “No more touching. I didn’t know.”
I glanced at the girl beside me, who was shaking so hard that I worried she would crumple to the red-carpeted floor.
One of the women stood in front of us while another handed each person a little white pill, then a cup of water. Too many guns were trained on me to be a smart ass, so I took the medication, praying it would numb me enough to get through the rest of the night.
For the next several hours, I floated on a cloud with a stupid smile plastered on my face. Compliant wasn’t even the right word for it. Giddy to do what I was told was more like it. Everywhere I turned, I saw Zayne standing near me, smiling, his green eyes filled with love and adoration. Whatever these bitches gave me, I liked it. I never wanted Zayne to leave me again.
Once I was groomed to their specifications, they slipped a white, gauzy dress over my head. I glanced in the mirror, wondering if Zayne would like the see-through material. A whimper escaped me as grief clung to the corner of my heart through my drug-induced haze.
“It’s time,” a harsh-looking woman with blonde hair said, grabbing my arm.
My pulse jackhammered against my neck as we were led out of the room. Following the others, I softly hummed as we entered an auditorium through a side door. A soft glow of lights lit up a small area on the stage in front, spotlighting a round platform. At least thirty men wearing expensive designer suits chatted among themselves, drinks in hand. They started to take their seats, then an unseen announcer’s voice came through the speakers.
“Our first young woman comes from the States.”
One of the ladies led one of our group to the podium, then helped her up. The lights brightened, and the girl shielded her eyes.
The announcer continued as the woman guided the girl when to turn around, making sure the lighting showcased her naked body beneath the sheer robe.
“Bidding for this beauty starts at two million dollars.”
I shook my head as the men took turns walking on stage and assessing her like she was a sports car instead of a human being.
A shudder unnerved me as I realized the effects of my happy pill were starting to wear off. I stared at the men, recognizing some of them as those that had paid Donovan in the past for the chance to rape and torture me. Then an audible gasp escaped me when Ashkov circled the girl like a buzzard, ready to swoop in. I swayed, rocking on the high heels the women had provided.
Oh, God, he was here. Horror snaked through me, leaving me breathless as a future played out before me in my mind.
Ashkov lingered a little longer, studying her a bit more, but the other men returned to their seats.
A scream ripped from the girl’s throat as a quickpop poprang through the auditorium and Ashkov dropped to the floor.
Utter chaos broke out, and the armed females hurried everyone into the hallway, forcing us into a different room a few doors down.
“Get on your knees, hands on your head!” The woman in charge ordered while the others began tying everyone’s wrists.
Whispers and fear filled the space as we all speculated what had happened.
“Quiet!” She barked, her fingers tightening on her gun.
One of the other ladies knelt, secured my wrists behind my back with zip ties, then slipped a bag over my head. I sucked in the air as anxiety and claustrophobia stabbed me in the chest. Sudden panic sent a sharp pain through my temples, making me wince. I inhaled slowly, proving to myself that I was able to breathe through the material covering my face, and closed my eyes to try to piece together what had just happened. The events had unraveled so fast I hadn’t had time to process the details well.
Everyone fell silent, and I tugged on my restraints, but they held fast. I tried to calm my racing pulse. What had happened to Ashkov? Heart attack? Was he dead? What was that muffled sound I’d heard? Ashkov had a ton of enemies, and if one of them killed the motherfucker, they were my new hero.
I shivered beneath the thin dress, and tears welled in my eyes while I once again wished that my Zayne was still here.
45
Earlier That Day ~Pierce
“We’re in,” I said, staring at my wife and Vaughn in my kitchen. “Brian just told me they have an undercover FBI guy in place, Eddie Farley, and he verified that Giselle is being held at her parents’ house.” I shoved my fingers through my dark hair, ready to kill every motherfucker connected to this evil. “She’s in a cage. Apparently, there’s an auction later tonight, so some of the girls will be moved to another location. This isn’t the first time Farley has been there, so he was able to provide the address. That’s where we’re headed, but we have to beat the FBI. Thirty piece-of-shit men will also be there, so the FBI will have plenty of people to keep themselves busy.”
I paced the room and gritted my teeth. Memories of finding Zayne bleeding on the floor of Donovan’s home blasted through me. “The FBI has no idea we’re going in, that after Donovan shot Zayne, shit got intense. With that said, we must move in and stay calm and focused. I know we’re all shaken up over Zayne, but we have to do this for him.”
“Hell, I’m ready to end those fucks.” Vaughn gripped the edge of the black granite counter and bowed his head.
“When we reach where the girls will be auctioned, we’ll take out a few of the guards, then hide the bodies.” Tension slithered down my spine, but I was too wired to give a shit about my stress level.