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I nodded, feeling unable to say anymore as Vaughn stops near us. “Vale. Terrence wants to speak with you.”
Laurence doesn’t look away, instead giving me a small nod.
And that’s it. That’s all we get as we part ways.
As he follows Vaughn to the door, I know I may not see him again. If I do, it will be when I’m trapped here in the processing center under blackmail.
“Let the second Bidding begin!” Carrick shouts, and Clover is up. There are six of us left.
I scan the room for Lily, but she’s nowhere to be seen, off somewhere continuing her performance. I don’t see hernew Advocate anywhere, either. I wonder how Carrick plans to go through with this, if past Advocates have a chance at taking me back. My stomach churns, but I approach the crowd nonetheless, with Vaughn leading Laurence away. They did that to remove my safety net.
Could Ivan take me back?
Finding him in the crowd, I see him eyeing Stella. Good. They’d be a match made in heaven.
“First up, Clover! With all your new experience, I hope you Players can provide us with a better show than your first.”
I roll my eyes as the Advocates laugh. I already miss Laurence. Looking back at the door he disappeared through with Vaughn, I wonder where they’re taking him. If they’re trying to stick to their accusations of us cheating, confining him in a room, or if Terrence really does want to speak to him. I’m betting on the former.
One by one, the Players are called up. One by one, they put on some kind of show of seduction as the bids roll in and the game starts all over again, though this time, with higher stakes—at least for me.
I barely pay attention, barely register the numbers until “Ten” is being called out over and over again, breaking me from my thoughts of revenge, of exposing the Echelon Society for what they really are and Laurence’s request to achieve that.
“Player Ten!” Carrick calls out, an edge to his voice that wasn’t there before that drives my feet forward.
Making my way to the podium, Carrick steps off with a smirk, expecting something similar to my first performance.Not even close,I want to tell him.
“Fifty thousand dollars,” Carrick calls out, making a call back to the original price I was sold at to Ivan Rossi.
Ignoring him, I look to the audience. “Does anybody have any lipstick on hand?” I ask sweetly. Bree pulls out a tube oflipstick from her clutch. She extends it, and I take it. “Thank you.” My smile falls and I kick the bed off the podium. Everyone watches in silence as I get down on my knees and begin writing. The lipstick is bright red, the perfect shade. It glides silently across the smooth, reflective black surface of the podium. When I’m finished, I cap the lipstick and hand it back to Bree. “That shade looks great on you, by the way,” I tell her. Her red stained lips quirk up into a brief smile, interrupted by the people rising from their seats to read what I wrote.
Carrick pushes through the crowd as the murmurs begin, through the glares that I receive from the audience and Advocates as I step away and out of the circle.
I’m expecting to be dragged away at any moment.
After reading my message, Carrick rushes for me, grabbing my arm. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Huh, Eve?” His face is turning red. “Here I give you another chance at redemption, and you pull some silly stunt, writing some quote from a movie or something? You’re dumber than I thought—”
“It’s not from a movie,” I interrupt.
“What?” Carrick’s brows knit together, the fissure between them an ugly crack in his exterior.
“It’s from a book.”
“I don’t care. What do you mean by it, huh?” he asks again in a harsh, low voice, jerking on my arm.
“It means you’re all going down,” I say, loud enough for everyone to hear, the room still silent. Before I can see the reactions of the audience, Carrick hauls me away toward the main hall.
Just as we step through the door, a fist flies out and nails Carrick directly in the jaw. He collapses to the ground, but it’s not his pitiful form that draws my attention, but a raging Laurence standing in front of Vaughn, who looks like he’s about to have a conniption.
Carrick pulls himself to his feet and flies at Laurence, but Laurence dodges it and lands another hit on Carrick. The fight explodes as Carrick roars, doing a football-like tackle and getting his arms around Laurence’s waist. They both slam into the wall.
“ENOUGH!” Vaughn’s booming voice echoes through the hallway, bringing them both to a halt. He grabs Carrick by the neck of his shirt and hauls him off Laurence, pushing him back toward me. “Take your Player to her new living arrangements.”
Carrick laughs. “She deserves far worse than the processing center after the stunt she just pulled.”
It was different to be under the assumption my imminent fate was at the processing center, but to hear it as Carrick’s final plan for me was a different story.
Laurence stayed silent.
