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“Yes. Now, who is this person you know, and how will they get me into the auction?” I ask impatiently.
Kian smiles that cocky smirk of his, like he doesn’t believe a word I’m saying, but I ignore him, focusing on what he’s saying instead.
“Declan used to work at Shades with Desmond. Even though he dealt in the more legal side of things, he’s very aware of the auctions that used to take place. I’ve spoken to him about them before, when I was gathering information on The Aristocracy.
“Before you say anything, I’ve not involved him before now because he asked to be kept out of it unless it was absolutely necessary. He’s been determined to live a normal life since he moved to England, and I didn’t want to drag him back into this life if I can help it. But from the research me and Kellan have done, the only way you’re getting into an auction is with an invitation, or as the plus one of someone with an invitation.”
“So Declan can get an invite, and I can be his plus one?” I ask, and Kian nods his head somewhat reluctantly.
“No, we can’t drag Dec into this if he doesn’t want to be part of it,” Liam states, shaking his head firmly.
“There’s no other way. We don’t have time to find someone with an invite, not when we know for sure Dec has the contacts to get one. He’s been offered one before, because of his connections through Belle’s Rose. They’ve even asked him to host at the club, and he regularly turns them down. It would be easy for him to accept an invite, and he could take Evan along.”
Even though it’s clear Kian has a strong plan, he seems reluctant. I get that Dec is his best friend, and he’s worked hard to get out of our world, but right now, I don’t give a flying fuck about any of that. All I care about is getting this over and done with.
“Then it’s settled. Have Dec find out when the next auction is, and secure an invite, plus one. Let me know when it’s sorted,” I snap, before pushing past my brother as I storm down the corridor.
“Evan, stop,” Liam shouts, but I ignore him.
Bree’s voice carries down the corridor. “You aren’t going anywhere until we’ve all finalised the plan, Evan. Do you hear me?”
I flip my middle finger at them all over my shoulder as I continue towards the exit. “Find me when it’s time and we will come up with a plan.”
As the door slams behind me, and the cool breeze from the fresh air hits me, I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus. I sag against the wall, trying desperately to catch my breath, as the emotions I’ve been pushing away for the morning suddenly flood my system. I’m overwhelmed by the fear and the nausea, as I think about the horrors Tee might be going through right now.
My heart is pounding, threatening to break free through my ribs, as my chest rises and falls more rapidly than it should. Sweat beads along my forehead, and I open and close my hands into fists, just for something to do.
I have to save her. I have to bring her home, if it’s the last thing I do. I may not be the boy she loved any more, but he wouldn’t have what it takes to save her. I do. I will burn the world to the ground and dance through the ashes to make sure she’s safe.
Ihiss loudly as Lilly presses a damp cloth against my sore cheek. As the cold water hits my split flesh, the sting makes me feel like it’s being torn open all over again. I try to pull away, but she places her hand on the back of my head to keep me in place.
“Ssh. I’m sorry it hurts. It will be over soon,” she mutters, her voice barely a whisper.
We’re sitting so close, she doesn’t need to talk loud for me to hear, but we’re so used to whispering by now, it’s all we know.
The room is almost pitch black around us, the only light shining in through a crack in the board that’s covering the window, and the cracks around the door. I can barely see Lilly’s pale white face, despite her being so close I can feel her breath on my cheek. I know her so well now; I don’t need to be able tosee her to know her skin will be littered with the same cuts and bruises as mine.
As she takes the cloth away from me, the cool air hits the cut and I hiss again. My head throbs—a pretty much constant state for me recently. I guess it comes with the territory after being hit so hard the skin on my cheek and lip rips open.
“I know you’re going to say no, but I can get you something for the pain, if you’d like?” Lilly whispers.
I give her a small smile and wince as it cracks the dry skin on my lip. “No, but thank you.”
She sighs, but I know she doesn’t take anything either. Not that I blame the girls who do, some need everything and anything to numb them so they can survive what we’re forced to endure. Hell, there’s a lot of girls here who are worse off than me and Lilly, so I definitely don’t blame them. But I don’t want to be numb. I want to keep my wits about me, so that when the time is right, I will be able to fight.
“Other than the cuts I can see, is there anything else?” she asks me, lightly running her fingers down my arm, as though hoping to be able to feel something, since she can’t see much.
I take a moment to try and catalogue how I’m feeling. In all honesty, it’s pretty much fucking impossible. I hurt everywhere. I’ve been beaten and abused constantly for the last few weeks. I don’t even know how long it’s been since I arrived here, as we don’t see daylight, and nobody has a watch. The hours move horrifically slowly, and there’s no way to track the days.
All I know is that the punishments have gotten worse since I helped the two girls escape, and since then, my body has been in a constant state of pain.
There’s a high probability, I have a couple of broken ribs, as it’s very uncomfortable when I breathe in deeply. I have cuts and bruises littered across every area of my skin, so much so that I don’t even know what marks were made by which instruments.I’ve got a concussion from the blows to my head, and there’s the headache that lingers whenever I’m hit before my head’s had a chance to heal.
All in all, I’m fucking exhausted. My eyes hurt from all the tears I shed in the beginning, though now it hurts more because I force myself not to cry. I’ve shed far too many tears for these assholes, and they sure as fuck are getting no more from me.
My lips are cracked and dry, and my throat is sore and bruised. I know I shouldn’t complain, as the other girls have it so much worse than me. For some reason, the men at Club Crimson are only allowed to abuse my mouth—though they take the word abuse to the fucking extremes.
Lilly says The Sheriff has a purpose behind everything he does. So if he’s preventing people from fucking me, there’s a reason for that. I have no idea what that reason is, but I’m very sure I don’t want to find out. Lilly has speculated that she thinks he’s saving me for a performance evening, but I hope that’s not true.
