Page 30 of Convict's Game

Chapter 10

Mila

The sounds of a fight filtered through the basement to the brightly lit locker room where I waited with four other women. Three talked excitedly while a fourth sat on a bench and studied her hands, a mantra whispered on her lips.

“This will all be okay. I’ll meet him. Whoever he is, he’ll love me.”

I couldn’t share her reassurance.

My well-thought-through plan had been blown to pieces. It was all my fault. I’d texted the one person who’d been my get-out-of-jail-free. I’d asked my brother for help, and he’d arrived after Convict had already taken Annabelle away but walked straight into a trap. With the worst possible timing, Salter and his cronies had arrived. They’d captured him, and from somewhere, knew my name.

I wasn’t sure how that happened, but I had my suspicions.

My plan had been straightforward. Put myself forward for auction, then when they took me to the boss, Rhys Jacobs, I’d get what I wanted then free myself. If my name hadn’t been enough for them to let me walk away, my backup plan would’ve come for me.

Now that backup was in handcuffs and restraints, and I’d been forced into the skeleton crew’s basement while his life hung in the balance.

I held myself taut, my mind spinning over what I’d been ordered to do. It was so strange. Salter’s command this evening was for me to get to Jacobs.

He was in this same game.

My target all along, but also Salter’s.

Except now, I had to let him fuck me in this basement where nineteen other men would be trying to do the same. My skin itched and crawled.

If I failed, Salter would make good on his threat and kill the man I should never have brought into this. The brother I’d fought to build a relationship with and now whose life was in my hands.

What a mess. What an absolute disaster I’d fallen into.

One of the women went to the doorway and peeked out, her white-blonde hair sliding over her shoulder. She was dressed to impress in pale lace that clung to her curves.

In contrast, I’d been thrown a bag of clothes by Salter and told to pick a tight dress. And not to bother with underwear. I hadn’t cared about the option I’d chosen—a purple minidress that barely covered my ass. Especially not after Salter had crowed about how soon it would be torn off me.

The woman at the door shivered. “It won’t be long. In another minute, the siren will go. Can you hear the men?”

The shouts of fighting were getting louder, perhaps at the sight of her as one of the cages was adjacent to the locker room door. I’d caught a glimpse when I’d scurried in.

Though the cage was unlit, the occupants had been outlined by the bright lights of the huge warehouse space that also revealed its concrete floor, gantry steps, pillars, and hiddendoorways. Most of the men were bare-chested, but there was an added element that filled me with dread.

The skeleton masks.

All were wearing them.

How did I pick out Jacobs if I couldn’t see his face? I’d only ever met him across a meeting room table.

Another woman went to the door and stepped outside, her black hair twisted into a complex pattern. She adjusted her boobs in her bra top, earning a chorus of roars from the cage at her fingers on her ebony skin. “Get ready to run, ladies.”

We all moved into the hall, and the others gazed up to the neon-pink light on the wall and the siren next to it. An air of excited anticipation ran over every woman but me. My stomach cramped from the rising adrenaline. My whole body trembled.

I was trapped in here. There was no way out. The doors had locked behind me, and no one could leave until it was all over. Every last woman fucked and owned.

The siren blared.

I burst out with a sob, shocking myself with the emotion. I’d held it in for days. There was no time for a breakdown—the cage doors grated and clanked. My heart thumped harder, and I ran, off to the left where the shadows were darkest.

A bellow came, and I peered over my shoulder to see the blonde woman sprinting straight down the centre of the wide-open space. A gang pursued her. One was in the lead, a huge beast of a man with black jeans and bare feet, a spray of blood on his olive skin. He gave an animalistic growl and swiped for her, catching her waist so the two tumbled to the floor.

Instantly, the rest of the pack set upon them, punches thrown at him while others grasped at her in a mass brawl.