3

ALLISON

I was currently in the makeup room where they prepped women before the auction. The guards immediately pushed me onto a wooden stool in front of a cracked mirror.

"Sit," one of them grunted. "The makeup artists will be here soon. You have to look pretty for the men.”

“No one wants to buy an ugly bitch, yeah?” the other sneered, and they both burst into laughter.

“Well, she isn't ugly and I must say she's got pretty legs too. Too bad we’re not allowed to touch them, else I’d have taken her to my bed. I'll love to hear her moans.”

“I bet she cries when she's been fucked. I'll give my life to know what it feels like to fuck her.”

I fixed my gaze on the mirror, pretending I hadn't heard their crude conversation. That's the only way to stop myself from going crazy.

They walked out of the room and stood by the main door, as they talked in low voices about the night's profit and of course ‘Me’. I wasn't surprised they'll be so shameless to talk about taking me to their bed right in front of me.

My eyes darted around the room, then back to the door. This was it. My last chance of escape. They hadn’t chained me like they did the last time, and they weren’t looking.

The cold hairpin I still held in my palm felt like my only friend now. It was the same thing that had saved me from Mr Blaze and I'm sure as hell that it'll save me again. I slowly slid off the stool, wincing as my bruised ribs protested, and I crept toward the door. Every nerve ending screamed at me to run, not just from Maximus, but from the horrifying betrayal from Elliot. I had to get out of all of these as fast as I could.

If not for anyone, for my baby.

My hand reached the cold metal handle, I turned to step out and as if luck wasn't on my side, I ran directly into the betrayer.

Oh goodness. I thought he's left. He was standing right outside, a cruel smirk already on his face.

"Running away so soon, Allie?" he sneered, and before I could even flinch, he slapped me, the sound echoing off the bare walls.

The slap didn't hurt as much as the venom in his eyes. Instinct took over. Driven by sheer terror and the need to protect the life inside me, I kicked him with all my strength, aiming for his groin.

Elliot gasped, doubling over in searing pain, dropping a thick baton onto the floor. It rolled toward my feet. This was my chance! I tried to dart past him, but a voice laced with mockery cut me off.

"Not so fast, peaches." The guard from inside the room was now blocking the doorway. My heart sank. There was nowhere to go.

The two guards grabbed me, pinning my arms and slamming me against the wall. Panic flared, and I sank my teeth into the arm of the nearest guard, hard. He roared in surprise and fury.

Elliot straightened up, his eyes black with hatred. He snatched the baton from the floor. "You want to fight? You little bitch, I'll teach you to fight!"

He began hitting me. Not just with his fists, but with the thick baton in his hands. He didn't avoid my ribs or my stomach; he drove the blows home repeatedly. The two guards, one now nursing a bleeding arm, joined him, kicking and punching.

The pain was overwhelming. It consumed every plea. I couldn't breathe. Nor could I fight back. I was just a weak human serving as a punching bag for three enraged, merciless brutes. And one of them was the same man who had promised to help me escape.

My boyfriend. The person I have loved and trusted with all my heart.

"Stop!" The word tore itself from my throat. I looked at Elliot’s face, hoping to see a flicker of the kindness he had created for so long. "Elliot, please! Stop! I'm pregnant! It's your child!"

The confession only meant to be a plea for salvation, ignited the fire in his eyes.

He stopped hitting me for one breath, just long enough to spit out his answer. "Pregnant? You disgusting, worthless piece of trash! I would rather die than see you carry my child!"

He cursed me, insulted me, calling me a dirty bitch who deserved worse than this. Then, his voice became cold, utterly chilling. "Aim for her stomach!" he shrieked at the guards. "Aim for the gut! Kill the baby! I will not have her carry my child!"

“No. No. Please.” I pleaded as I tried so hard to shield my stomach with my hands, but the guards didn't relent. They matched me with the boots while Elliott continued to hit me with the baton.

I felt a tear inside me. Then came the warmth, the heavy, undeniable flow of blood.

No. My baby. He's leaving. I couldn't protect him like I'd promised.

Tears streamed down my face, not just from the pain, but from the profound, soul-shattering realization of my loss. The blood wouldn’t stop. I cried out, a sound of pure helplessness. I tried to curl up, trying to save the life that was already slipping away.

Finally, they stepped back, breathing heavily. I was left a whimpering, bloody mess on the floor.

"Clean her up," Elliot spat, throwing the baton down. "She's still going on stage."

The guards dragged my broken body from the makeup room into a darker, curtained area backstage. As they forced me into a sitting position on a crate, two figures emerged from the gloom.

"Look at her," my grandmother, Ellen, tutted, shaking her head in mock pity. "Did you really think we wouldn't find out your little secret, Allison?"

My father, Orion, stood beside her, beaming at Elliot. "Our boy, Elliot. He's been so helpful, hasn't he? Feeding us every information, every plan of yours. Did you really think he was going to help you escape from us, huh?”

The horrifying scope of the plot slammed into me.

The reason my father never stopped me from going to meet Elliot. He stopped me from making friends in the neighborhood. He fucking stopped me from attending school, but he turned blind eye the day he saw me with Elliot. I could remember vividly how my heart skipped a beat the day my father saw me standing with Elliot.

I thought he was going to scold me and ask Elliot to leave the way he'd chased my friends away, but he didn't. Instead he just smiled at Elliot, greeted him like he was an old friend of his.

He never stopped me. He hadn't needed to.

I stared at Elliot, who had a huge smirk on his face. He had sent me right into their hands. He had given me fake hope to maximize the pain of the fall.

Betrayal surged through my veins, giving me a reckless burst of strength. I lunged at Elliot, my hand striking out blindly.

“How dare you, Elliot?”

Smack!

It wasn't Elliot who hit me this time. Nor was I the one who hit him. It was Orion. My father slapped me across the cheek, sending me reeling back onto the crate. "Know your place," he hissed.

“If only you had agreed to stay back and serve Mr Blaze, you wouldn't be here.” My grandmother stepped forward and tried to touch my face, but I turned my face away. “Poor baby. Look at you. Mr Blaze would have treated you well. Who knows, he'd have made you his wife.”

“I hate you all.” I cried bitterly. Because of them, I lost my baby.”

“You have no idea how much we hate you too, Allison. You should have just died.” They watched for a few more minutes, reveling in their victory, before Maximus’s men came back and dragged me away.

I was hauled onto the brightly lit auction stage. I lay there, helpless and broken, the pool of blood beneath me a clear testament to the beating I just received. I saw the other girls. Some terrified, some resigned, being bid on and selected. Their numbers kept dwindling.

But no one looked at me, simply I was stained, bruised, and clearly dying. They clearly won't want to have anything to do with me for fear that I'll die on them. I closed my eyes, praying. Please, let no one buy me. Let me die here. Let me leave this world. I can't do it anymore.

The stage was almost emptied, indicating that the sale was over.

Maximus's heavy voice boomed across the hall. "Get this filth out of here! I told you, no dying goods!" The two guards who had beaten me started toward the stage, their intent clear: to finish what they'd started. That was a rule in the auction house. If no one buys you, then the guards were free to do whatever they wanted with you.

The only reason I wasn't killed the last time was because of Mr Blaze. Yes. Mr Blaze. He asked the auction officers to let me be. He had to pay the sum of $20,000 to free me.

Now three months later, he wants my dad to pay up the money. He was willing to ignore the debt only if I pleased him.

Just as their shadows fell over me, a commanding voice sliced through the silence of the nearly empty hall. His voice resonated with an authority that made the very air vibrate, stopping the guards instantly.

“I'LL BUY HER.”