AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Are we getting sold or something? Because that would be unbelievable.”
I nod. “I really think we are. Except you...” I'm about to speculate on why they didn't feel a need to tie Cross's hands when the door opens again, and a tall Mexican man walks in.
Chapter Forty-One
~ELIZABETH~
He's wearing all black, from his boots to the fedora-like hat on his head. He has light brown skin and Spanish features. Once I see the dead look in his eyes, all I know is that he's not here to help us. In fact, he's probably here to buy us. Shit.
His assessing gaze flicks over me, then over Cross, who I quickly realize has managed to slump over on his side. Did he do that in time to fool the buyer? I'm not sure, because I wasn't watching him. I watch the buyer's face; he's looking down his thin nose at Cross. I don't think he's spared a look for me yet.
He steps closer to Cross, poking his bicep with the tip of his black leather boot.
Then he turns toward the door, flicks his fingers in a come hither motion, and two other men walk in. Neither is as tall as the buyer, and it's clear they're working for him, rather than the other way around. They're wearing black like he is, but they don't look as clean or well-groomed, and where he points, they scurry.
I tense, terrified because I expect them to skip right over Cross and come to me, but instead they each grab one of Cross's shoulders, and they roll him over. He's so limp I wonder if he actually passed out. One of them starts to unbutton his blue jeans, and I shriek.
The buyer's gaze snaps to me. “You can't do that!”
“You be quiet,” he hisses. His accent makes his voice sound like a snake.
“He's not for sale.”
“What about you?” He steps closer to me, taking my face in his hand and running his finger over my cheek. “Are you for sale?” he asks me. “We get many requests for feisty girls.” His gaze flicks between my legs. “They told me you are barely used.”
I blink up at him, feeling like I might be sick.
He releases my face and chuckles. “She is just a baby.”
Abruptly he's leaving my bed and walking toward the door. I glance over at Cross, and I'm relieved to find his jeans still zipped.
The buyer struts toward the door. He pulls something out of his back pocket, and as he reaches the doorway, two men lean in to hear what he has to say. I gasp as I see they're both holding machine guns.
The shock of it is so horrible, I forget to translate what he's telling them. The two sidekicks move to stand behind the buyer, and all of a sudden they're all talking at once. Then the three of them step back, and Priscilla and Lockwood come in. It looks, from the little I saw, like the gunmen actually had to admit them.
Super.
You would know they're guppies in the big pond.
This time, I can hear their conversation clearly.
The buyer speaks in Spanish: “We'll take them both. The man, especially, will fetch a good price in a larger market. Possibly Europe. Dark hair and blue eyes is a good look. For the woman, I am thinking Asia. I can see she is lacking in experience.”
I keep my eyes trained on the ceiling as my heart races. I dare a quick glance over at Cross. He seems asleep, but is he really?
Lockwood says, “How much?”
The buyer makes a tsking noise and continues speaking in Spanish. “I want to see more of them. A fresh woman is a fresh woman, but what is the size of the man's part?”
“He is large,” Lockwood says in Spanish.
Oh my God. Does he actually know that? My cheeks and head feel too hot, like any moment now, steam might start flowing from my ears. Please, no.
“What is the quality of the girl's tits?”
“You can feel for yourself,” Lockwood says, also in Spanish.
He waves at me, and Priscilla holds her arm out like a game show display girl.
