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Chapter 6
Presley
“You can talk, but you have to whisper like I am now,” the young girl tells me as she shuts the door to their room. “I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re so calm, but Yvonne and I have learned that the only way girls stay alive here is if we stay this way. We’ve both seen them rape the girls, and if they don’t fold into submission after that, they shoot them.”
I furrow my brows, “Surely, he can’t be fine with them killing his product.” It’s obvious this is viewed as a business, so why would he allow his men to slaughter the girls that should bring him money?
Yvonne, the one who was raped not too long ago, chuckles. “You don’t get it. He can find women like us anywhere. We’re replaceable, just like the cattle on the way to the butcher. Lajos will just find more women, ones that want to stay alive and won’t cause him issues.” Lajos must be the leader of this organization.
“Have you two been here long? You seem . . .” I try to find the words for what I think they are, but every word that comes to mind is derogatory.
“Broken in?” Yvonne fills in the blank space of my sentence. I nod, thinking that she’s come close enough to my thought process.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it in a bad way, but you both are in this room while myself and others are still in cages. I don’t understand what’s going on here.”
“It’s really quite simple. After the new girls come in, you’re given a quarantine period by yourself. You go to the doctor, see the dress maker, and maybe they’ll let you eat a tiny bit. You’re shoved in the shower but only after you’re taken the long way to see the nice rooms that the girls who behave get. It’s all a psychological ploy for us to know that we’re the ones making this harder on ourselves. Meanwhile, silence and good behavior is rewarded with comfort and food,” the young girl tells me, sounding far more mature than her age.
“What’s your name?” I ask her, realizing I hadn’t asked her at any point up until now.
She smiles, and not something fake, one that makes me think she’s happy. “I’m Alice.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I reply, trying to smile too, but I can’t bear it. I’m not happy that I’m in this situation and I want out.
“It totally isn’t, but I appreciate you trying to be nice.”
I’m still unable to tell time because there aren’t any clocks within my line of vision. For as long as we can, the three of us chat, getting to know more about one another. Yvonne is from Southern England and was picked up outside of Spain a couple months back. She was on a girl’s trip and was split up between her and her friends. Alice, on the other hand, was picked up in Hawaii where she’s from. She told me she’s seventeen and was out surfing, went to the smoothie place on the beach, and stayed until a little past curfew. It was on her walk home when everything went dark and she ended up on the ship.
Alice has been through two auctions already and tells me that this will be her third. It’s Yvonne’s seventh, and both of them have the same mentality; that they can’t get out of this life until they’re off the ship. Alice’s dad owns a private security firm in Hawaii and she firmly believes that he’s out looking for her. Yvonne is quite different. She doesn’t have any family left and only a handful of friends.
They’ve both given me a rundown of what to expect next; how I’ll be prepped for the auction that’s happening tonight and how things will get a bit weird. They failed to elaborate on that, but I’m betting it’s because of the footsteps that started to strongly head in our direction. Both of them zipped their lips quickly, spreading apart to where none of us would be seen sitting together.
We’re all separated right before the door to the bedroom opens.
“You, come with me.” This is a new goon who’s bulky and a John Cena lookalike. He points at me, so I know he’s not speaking to anyone else in the room. I rise in my naked state and walk towards him. So far, he’s the only one who hasn’t put his hands on me, but according to their boss, they shouldn’t be touching me at all. “I will make this simple for you. If you listen, I don’t grab you like caveman. Understand?”
“Yes,” I respond, trying not to let any of my anger slip out. I silently keep having to remind myself that this is only temporary until I can get out of here.
He leads me down the hallway and takes me by the showers, but instead of turning, we go up a set of stairs into another level. As we go through the entryway, he turns to the right, and we’re in another room. It looks much like the room I had been in before downstairs, the one with the measuring tape and silks hanging. Only, this time, there’s a mannequin pinned to the wall with a pretty pink dress and a vanity area with a large mirror. I don’t see anything sitting on the counter, but there are many shelves with buttons that I believe must come open.
“What is the matter with you? Why do you look all sad like?” the man asks me. Why in the hell does he care if I look a certain way? I’m sure as fuck not sad, but I am confused.
“What is this room?” I ask him, hopeful that he won’t smack me around.
“This is the dress room, where you will get all pretty for the auction tonight.” He isn’t even finished talking when three people pour into the room. One woman takes my hand and sits me down in the chair in front of the mirror, turning me slightly so that I can see the door. The other woman brings a curling iron over and sits it on the vanity. “We’re going to make you look so beautiful for tonight, darling. I’m sure you’ll be purchased in no time and can get off this smelly old ship!”
The woman in front of me who has a series of brushes in her hands looks at me sternly. “I hope you will listen and we won’t have to strap you down and do this the hard way.”
“I haven’t caused an issue for either of you yet. Or am I missing something?” I respond in a snarky tone, rolling my eyes.
“Best be careful; that seemed a bit threatening. Did you get the same feeling, Violet?” The makeup girl looks over to the one who’s waiting for the curling iron to heat up.
“Oh, I’m not sure. Probably best if no one acts out or gets attitude.”
I heed their hidden warnings and relax, letting them put makeup on me and curl my hair to whatever their hearts desire. This is all just a big show, anyway.
“Your dress is just so beautiful! You’ll be picked in no time,” Violet says. The way she speaks is like she wants to boost my spirits.
“Oh, she will. She’s the chosen one. It’s why we’re getting her finished before the others,” her friend says. All I can do is wonder why I’m so important to everyone. What is so special about me, and why am I so damned important?
