Page 74 of Locked in Wonderland

Broken. I really didn’t like the sound of that.

“So for that reason, I’m going to start the bidding at six hundred.” He swept his gaze over the audience. “Do I hear six hundred?”

A man with a predatory gleam in his eye lifted a paddle. “Here.”

“Six-fifty,” a woman called.

“Seven hundred.”

The numbers climbed quickly after that in increments of fifty until it reached twelve hundred. Only then did the pace begin to slow with people dropping out.

Every time bidding stalled completely, the auctioneer found some new way to provoke me.

A hand in my hair.

A grip on my chin.

Commentary about my body.

Eventually, I wised up to the game and refused to react whatever he did. By the time the bidding reached fifteen hundred, only three people remained. Two men and one woman.

I studied them and tried to decide if I had a preference. The woman looked to be over sixty, most of her hair gray. Did that make her safer? Maybe she wanted someone to do the housework. Something in her expression told me that absolutely wasn’t the case, that she had other plans for me. I just didn’t know what those plans were.

The two men were younger: late thirties to early forties. Neither gave much away. One of them bid with barely perceptible lifts of his paddle. The other only nodded. All three seemed equally determined to win.

Meanwhile, I kept scanning the crowd.

Looking for dark hair and blue eyes.

Searching for Nico.

Every time I came up empty.

Eighteen hundred. The pace slowed again.

One man hesitated, as though trying to decide whether I was worth continuing for.

The auctioneer slid a hand over my chest and pinched a nipple. I gritted my teeth and stayed still. Frowning, he gestured toward the wings of the stage, and I barely had time to brace myself before the collar sent another burst of electricity tearing through me.

For at least a minute, I was completely useless. All I could do was slump forward, ride out the pain, and try to remember how breathing worked.

When I finally regained my voice, I had little control over the words that came tumbling out. “You motherfucking bastard. You’re all fucking twisted. Every single one of you. When I get out of this collar, I’m going to find you. I’m going to slit your throat and piss in the wound. How about that?”

The bidding resumed. The man who’d looked ready to drop out showed a renewed interest, which had presumably been the point. And I’d played right into their hands. Again.

Just as I started to accept that maybe this was my life now, something caught my eye at the back of the room. I almost missed him, tucked away in the shadows.

But no.

A tall, dark-haired man in an expensive suit stood there watching.

Nico.

Chapter Twenty-four

Nico was here.

Some of the tension bled out of my shoulders, and my next breath came easier. I waited for him to say something. Or do something. That was why he was here… right?