Unfold Me
Authors: Talia Ellison
Copyright © 2015 Talia Ellison
All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior permission in writing from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental
.
For more information about the author, go to:
http://taliaellison.weebly.com
Never miss a new release! Sign up for Talia's newsletter:
Table of Contents
My heart skips a beat when I step into a big room enveloped in darkness. It’s not the first time I’m here, but it’s the first time I’m about to participate. My high heels click against the marble floor as I make my way to an empty seat. The dark shades covering my eyes make it even harder to see what’s in front of me, but I’ll be damned if I let anyone in here identify me so easily.
Besides, pretty much everyone is hiding their faces, and one of the people is even wearing a purple mask with black swirls on it. No one wants the world to know their dirty little secret: that they’re willing to buy another human being for their own pleasure, whether their purchase wants it or not. There are maybe twenty or so chairs in front of a big stage that reminds me of a theatre, and only five are empty, so I settle myself in one at the back, to the left, and farthest from the others.
I scan the room for any familiar faces... well, only one familiar face, but he isn’t here. I don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. But today I’m on a very special mission, and I can’t lose my focus. My mind definitely shouldn’t be wandering to the man who stole three months of my life. Still, I can’t help but wonder if he’s coming. He loves auctions and he’s always on the lookout for a new slave that he could train and resell later, and a part of me would love to mess up his plans and make sure he doesn’t get to ruin another life.
I’ve thought about buying one of the slaves countless times, but every time I ended up sitting quietly in the corner and seething in anger because of what was happening and because there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. And even if I wanted to save one person from the hell of being a sex slave, who says I wouldn’t end up buying someone who was into the whole master-slave thing? Some people want it to be real—no safewords, agreements, nothing.
I’m sure such a person would tattle on me the moment I set them free, which would certainly get me banned from coming here, although they do get a nice amount of money just for allowing me in. Every time I try to come up with a way to bring this whole operation down, I have no options, because there isn’t anything that wouldn’t violate my deal with my ex-captor.
The spotlight on the stage comes to life, drawing everyone’s attention to the masked man dressed in leather and holding a tablet, a whip attached to his belt. I take a deep breath and steel myself for what is about to come, but my fingers are still shaking and I have to curl them into fists. I can feel the eyes of the man to my right on me like a heavy weight, and I quickly glance in his direction. He doesn’t look familiar, but I can’t see his face clearly anyway.
“First time, huh?” he whispers, leaning toward me, his lips quirking up.
I scoot away as far as I can from him, my eyebrows shooting up, until he presses his lips together and moves back. The tension leaves my shoulders a little when the auctioneer greets the room. I barely register his introduction because I’ve heard it so many times before. A blonde who is completely naked except for a spiky collar around her neck strolls onto the stage, two masked men trailing behind her.
Her face is perfectly calm, her eyes unreadable, as the auctioneer pushes her at the center of the stage so the spotlight is right on her. One man immediately raises his hand to bid as the auctioneer starts to enumerate the woman’s qualities as he gropes her breasts. The first thing that comes to my mind as I look at the woman is that she’s not Archer’s type. He likes his women with green eyes, long black hair that he can tug on and run his fingers through, and with nice curves—women like me. The girl on the stage is definitely too thin and too meek for him.
The next one to come onto the stage is a dark-haired guy, but he doesn’t have any tattoos that would indicate he’s the one I’m here for. The wide smile on his face as he steps under the spotlight makes me think he’s probably as high as a kite or he knows that if he doesn’t do as told, his loved ones will pay for it.
As the bidding continues, I sigh. What if I was wrong and the man I’m looking for won’t be here? But I’m sure there haven’t been any more auctions; my source would’ve known about it. What if his owner has changed his mind about selling him? I hope not, because this slave is the key to bringing down at least one of the most important human trafficking assholes in this city, and my friend Lilith wouldn’t be pleased to hear her mission has failed and that she’s risked her life for nothing.
I grit my teeth. No, he has to be here. I blink back to reality as I hear commotion on the stage. The guards are dragging a man with them, tightly gripping his arms, but he’s still trying to kick at them. The guy is tall, with short, messy black hair and blue eyes, and I glimpse the familiar tattoo low on his hip: a mark of his owner, Raphael. My throat goes dry, my chest constricting. That’s him! That’s Isaac.
“Fuck you!” Isaac yells as he is shoved onto his knees in the center of the stage. Now that he’s closer, I can see there’s blood seeping from the corner of his lips. His whole body is marred with bruises and bloody cuts and scratches.
“Shut up, slave!” The auctioneer’s eyes are hard as he hits Isaac with the back of his hand. “This one is being sold by his owner. As you can see, it needs a serious attitude adjustment... unless this is your thing.” He laughs. “Maybe Mr. Archer would want him back for more training.”
I stop breathing, turning my head in the direction the auctioneer is looking, but all I see is an unfamiliar man in a black suit. The man gives a quick nod and raises his hand to bid. Shit. Archer must have sent this man to bid instead of him. For a moment, I’m lightheaded, but then I slowly and surely lift my hand in the air. The auctioneer’s eyes fly toward me, and I name my price. When I glance at Archer’s guy, he’s staring back at me, his lips slightly parted.
I’m suddenly glad he’s here and not Archer. The guy raises the bid, and I do the same. His jaw is clenched, and I can see him typing something quickly on his phone. Would Archer be willing to spend so much money on Isaac? The auctioneer said Archer had trained Isaac already, and I wondered when that happened. Archer isn’t taking many slaves because he likes to focus only on one slave at a time, and he isn’t exactly running an elite prostitution ring like Raphael, but he’s good at organizing sex parties.
Archer’s man looks up from his phone. “Ten,” he yells out, and my jaw almost hits the floor. He did not just offer... Fuck.
“Eleven,” I say.
“Twelve.” The guy doesn’t even blink, and I know I can’t give up now, not just to help Lilith make sure some of those evil bastards get what they deserve, but also because I don’t want Archer to get what he wants. I’ve been waiting for way too long to find a way to get back at him for what he did to me, and although this won’t even begin to cover it, it’ll be something.
My revenge plan of preference would be putting a bullet through his head, but that would seriously violate my agreement with him, and I’m not about to watch anyone close to me die simply because I wanted revenge. No, I have to be smart about this, although I doubt anything I do will turn me back into the girl I used to be before Archer kidnapped and...
A crack of a whip against the floor makes me look up at the stage. Isaac is curled into a ball on the ground, his back turned to us. Lilith wasn’t exaggerating when she mentioned the scars on Isaac’s back. Even under the new welts and whip marks, his scars are still prominent. His whole back is shredded with them.
My heart is jumping in my chest, and I take a deep breath. “Twenty.”
The auctioneer’s head snaps toward me, and I can hear the quick intake of breath from someone in the audience. “Twenty!” he says. “Is Mr. Archer offering more?” The auctioneer’s eyes are filled with fervor and I’m sure he didn’t expect anyone to offer so much for any slave, let alone for this one. He’s going to get a pretty nice cut of that money.
Archer’s guy is furiously texting and chewing on his lower lip. I doubt Archer will offer more money. He certainly has it, and he likes a good challenge, but I don’t think he’ll go this far. I would hate to have to borrow money from my father to cover the cost, so I hope Archer will drop out of the race.
“Not this time,” Archer’s man says, his shoulders slumped. I think he was quite enjoying the thrill of this. I lean back in my seat.
“Alright. Sold for twenty to the lady!” the auctioneer says, a pleased undertone in his voice. Isaac manages to straighten his back as the men grab his arms again to lead him offstage. He spits blood on the ground as his eyes rake over the crowd, but I’m sure he can’t see me because of the light shining straight into his eyes.
