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“What’s your name?” she asks in a sweet voice.
“Caden. You?”
“Ella.” She keeps walking ahead of me, knowing her way perfectly in the long hallways and complicated architecture. Gold, cream, and dark wood are the only three colors they use in this house, and everything looks like it belongs in an antique shop.
Apart from the painting in the entrance hall, this house has no personal belongings. It all looks expensive and portrays their wealth, but there is no fun, no life. It’s all so bland, so sad. My house has colors on the walls from drawings Kay and I did as children. Markings that have witnessed our heights over the years. Even the holes in the walls and stains on the carpet remind us of the darkest moments that have shaped us. Moments when we felt alive. This place feels dead. Like the souls of the people who’ve been here are stuck in the walls and secret passages.
Ella stops by a door and turns back to me. I don’t know the girl, and I don’t care about her, but I need to know. “Are you even eighteen?” I ask with disgust.
She smiles, lips tight but making it as genuine as possible.
“This is your room,” she ignores my question. “There are four other people in here. You don’t have to talk to them or give them your identity, but it’s not forbidden either. There’s an outfit for you to wear. It’ll have a sticker with your name on it. Just…wear it. There’s no point in having any sort of rebellion. To be honest, that’s what they want out of you. They’ll love making your night worse than it is.” Her shoulders hunch slightly, and a certain shyness comes over her despite the strong face she’s been keeping until now.
“There is, um, lube. I would suggest using it now so you can,” her gaze is glued to the floor as she looks for her next word, “prepare yourself.”
Knowing the rules and the game I agreed to play in there, none of this surprises me. No, I’m stuck on one thing I desperately want to know.
She opens the door, and I ask as casually as I can, “Do you go to Stoneview Prep?”
“Yea—” she stops herself, realizing she answered without thinking just to tell me the truth I already assumed.
Putting my hand on hers on the doorknob, I stop her from opening it any further. “What year?” I say low, closer to her ear. I’m behind her, my chest to her back, and I feel her shiver.
“Uh…” she hesitates.
With my other hand, I grab her arm softly. “Senior?”
She shakes her head slightly. “Junior?”
“I retook a year,” she says in a trembling voice. “I should be in senior year.”
“Fucking hell,” I hiss as I let go of her and step back. “You need to get the fuck away from this place. Your dad’s money isn’t worth your sanity.”
Ignoring me, she pushes the door fully open. She’s lost her fake smile and her kindness. “Good luck tonight,” she says tightly before walking away.
I step in, finding three women and one other man. I nod my head as I walk to the last outfit I see on a rack. My name is on it, and I take the sticker off before taking a good look at it. I run my free hand against the leather harness and leather pants. My heart skips a beat when I realize they’re crotchless pants. The lube on the table next to me is sealed closed, and I grab it. Fucking. Great.
It's Billie’s text I received before they took my phone that gave me courage. A simpleI miss you tonight.
I told her I was spending the evening with Ethan and Elliot. As if I would purposely spend time without her. I’m so fucking addicted, my heart feels heavy every time I drop her off at her house. Every time she goes to work, or I go to college. I smell her on my sheets and hoodies, and I bathe in the raspberries and mint.
I run a hand through my hair as I enter the room where the main event unfolds. Naked women are walking around with platters, gags in their mouths as they offer champagne that must cost more than I’m making tonight. They’re forced to hold their platters with two hands since their wrists are in cuffs linked with a chain.
As we have been ordered, the five of us walk to the back wall where five small stages are set, and we step up on them. For now, all we have to do is stay there, move around the stage and present the goods.
I do that for what feels like hours. While the billionaires eat and drink, while they talk business, and laugh loudly. I feel like I’m in The Purge. Except I won’t be killed by the end of the night. It’ll be much worse.
Gerald Baker comes to me personally, showing me to his friend. “Poor boys are always so cheap,” he cackles loudly.
There are only about twenty of them in the room, but there are so few of us. I don’t know how long I’ll last before my teeth shatter from tightening my jaw or before my body jerks into action and I punch someone to death.
“How much did you pay for him?” his friend asks.
“Twenty-five,” Gerald shrugs. They both laugh. At me. At the fact that I was ready to do whatever they wanted for that kind of money.
Gerald points at one of the girls who was in the room with me. Her stage is right next to mine, and she’s on her knees, wearing nothing but a collar and leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles. Gerald steps to the side so he’s right in front of her. “Whereas I paid almost a hundred grand for a night with this beauty,” he says as he rubs his thick thumb against her lips.
My heart stops for a few seconds.A hundred. Fucking. Thousand. Dollars.
