Chapter Four

ARIA’S POV

My head pounded like someone kept hitting it with a brick. I opened my eyes slowly. Everything was blurry at first.

But I could make out of the blur, dim lights and concrete walls with one bulb swinging above me. Crap. My head hurt badly.

I tried to lift my hand to rub my face.

But I couldn't, my wrists were tied behind the chair I was seated in, with thick ropes, that hurt me the more I struggled with them. I tried moving my legs too but they were also bound to the chair legs.

I pulled them once, but the ropes didn't budge, instead it felt like it was getting tighter.

I began to feel panicked as my vision cleared out and I could make sense of the place around me.

Am I dead? That was a stupid question. If I was dead this wouldn’t hurt. My mouth tasted weird, as if I had been bleeding in my mouth. I used my tongue to work around my mouth and spat it out.

The room had a horrible rotting smell. Like something or someone died here.

I looked around and noticed it had only one window. With a metal door, and not other entrances or exits.

The door had scratches on it like someone had tried to get out before. Before I could finish processing everything I heard footsteps outside.

I could tell they were men as the sound was quite heavy.

The door opened with a loud thud and two men stepped in.

One was short and thick with a shaved head and a long scar across his cheek. Heck he was bald. While the other was tall and lean with his hair woven into messy knots.

Both of them wore black shirts with no readable expressions.

The short one looked at me, as if scanning my body and smiled. His teeth were crooked and stained.

Disgusting.

“Morning sunshine,” he said.

“Let me go. You bald pig.”

He laughed in mockery. “You hear that? She’s already giving orders.”

The tall one didn’t laugh. He just walked closer and crouched so his face was level with mine. “Do you remember how you got here?”

I stared at him for a couple of seconds before responding. “Yes. Someone hit me with a bat.”

“That’s a smart girl.” He stood up. “Now time to move.”

They cut the ropes. The short one used a knife, while I wriggled free from them. I rubbed my wrists immediately I was freed. Lots of red marks were on them and small blood around to show the bruises given.

I threw a fist at the short one and it touched his cheek slightly, but he moved fast and grabbed my wrist as I attempted another blow. His grip was really firm and I felt pain again around my arm. “Try that again and I’ll break your tiny little arms.”

The tall one took my other arm. “Walk.”

They pulled me out of the chair. For a minute I couldn't stand properly, my legs felt wobbly. I stumbled but they held me in place and took me to another room.

This one was smaller with one metal table and a folding chair. A woman stood at the corner of the room holding a pile of fabric. She kept her eyes on the floor.

“Change her,” the short one said and he moved me into the room.

The woman stepped forward without saying anything and handed the clothes to the tall one. He took them and shoved it at me.

I looked down to see the embarrassment of a cloth they expected me to wear: A black lace pant with thin straps. With lots of see-through in place. A bra that was more of strings than fabric.

My stomach turned over. “I’m not wearing this.”

The tall one leaned in close enough for me to be face to face with him. His breath smelled like cigarettes. “You are. Or we do it for you. Your choice.”

I looked from him to the short one. Then to the woman who still wouldn’t look up.

I turned my back to them. My fingers shook so bad that I dropped the top once. I pulled off my soaked shirt and the cold seemed to seep into my skin causing goosebumps around my body.

I put the lace on and I instantly felt embarrassed. From being exposed to the entire world to changing in front of two horrible men.

When I turned to face them again the short one whistled low.

“Damn. They’re gonna lose their minds over this one.”

“Shut up,” the tall one said. “Now move.”

They grabbed my arms again and dragged me down a long hallway.

It was a straight way with no turns. The lights in the halls were dim and the floors were cold. The closer we got to the end of the hallway, the more voices I could hear on the other side.

Men.

There was laughter. Talking. Clinking of glasses. And the smell of smoke. Probably cigarettes.

We got to the end of the hall and the short one pushed open the entrance which was a pair of thick black curtains.

The lighting hit my face and I squinted trying to make sure I didn't go blind. I kept squinting until my eyes resonated with the lights.

I was being led unto a stage.

With spotlights on it.

Below me were rows of chairs, which had men in suits. Some in dark shirts with watches that reflected more light. While others were already staring at me with drinks in their hands.

An auction block. I was about to be sold.

My knees suddenly became weak again. But the tall one caught me before I hit the ground.

“Walk,” he said again.

I couldn’t feel my feet. But they pushed me forward anyway. Up three steps. Onto the stage.

The announcer’s voice could be heard through speakers. He sounded cheerful, as if he was selling cars.

“Gentlemen! Next lot. She's fresh and wolfless but look at the spirit in her eyes. Perfect for those who like a challenge. Bidding starts at fifty thousand.”

Fifty thousand dollars.

For me.

Before I could process anything further many hands were already up for bidding.

“Sixty!”

“Seventy-five!”

“Ninety!”

The numbers skyrocketed quickly and I was terrified. I'm being sold. I scanned the crowd in horror. Rich hungry bastards. Some smiled sheepishly, while others licked their lips.

In the back row two men sat apart but close. One had black hair, while the other was brown. Although identical in looks. Twins maybe. Or brothers close enough to look it.

One had a scar down his left cheek. The other had a tattoo peeking outside his collar.

They weren’t bidding or saying anything. They just watched me.

The bids hit one-fifty.

Two hundred.

Two-fifty.

The room was filled with excitement

Then the one with the scar lifted his hand.

“Five hundred thousand.”

The announcer cleared his throat. “Five hundred from Ares Blackthorn.”

No one moved.

The one with the tattoo looked at his brother, his expression was that of anger or maybe a challenge.

He raised his hand. “Six hundred.”

The scarred one—Ares—turned his head slowly and looked at the tattooed one.

“Seven,” Ares said.

“Eight,” the other one answered.

They were bidding against each other.

The announcer laughed nervously. “Gentlemen, perhaps we settle this—”

“One million,” Ares cut in. “And she belongs to both of us.”

Whispers went across the room as the announcer finally responded. “One million from Ares and Kael Blackthorn. Going once. Going twice.”

No one spoke.

“Sold! To the Blackthorn brothers.”