Page 19 of Scarred in Silence (The Twisted Trilogy #2)

Astr a

The sounds of voices have my heavy eyelids lifting. The smell of that awful perfume permeates the air. My throat burns— a familiar sting. They drugged me.

Yesterday, when it was time to rinse my hair, Nicolette said I couldn’t be awake for it. She wanted the big reveal to be a surprise.

I don’t know what the fuck they gave me, but I feel like shit. I’m sure I look even worse. I never got the chance to run.

I sit up and look around. Nicolette stands at the door with Varek. They appear to be arguing in a whispered tone.

I glance down and see that someone changed my clothes. I’m dressed in a black sleep gown. Fucking gross. My hair tickles my neck. I haven’t had my hair this short in years. Probably since I was eleven.

Nicolette turns to greet me.

“We need to get you dressed. We start in an hour.”

We start what? What the fuck is going on?

I touch my mouth and realize the duct tape is gone. It was left on for so long that I still experience phantom sensations of the duct tape lingering.

I stand on shaky legs before her.

She turns to Varek and takes the clothing from him. She holds up a black lace lingerie set.

“Put this on.” She tosses it to me.

“Excuse me?” I am seconds away from punching her, but her next words are a punch to my core.

“You need to look good for the buyers. Put it on, or we can knock you out and hold the bidding that way. You choose.”

I stare at her, overwhelmed by her words. Then I remember when she came to Varek’s house. She said I would sell for more if I didn’t look like a drug whore. Fuck.

My thoughts have been so clouded. I thought they were going to torture me to death, but this… this is much worse.

“No,” I say softly.

She steps up to me, glaring at me.

“Do it. Now.”

My thoughts flip back and forth.

Hit her. Run. Escape.

Listen to her. She will make your life Hell. Do it.

I nod. Accepting my fate. Lucien will save me. I know he will. I grab the thin material and wait for her to leave. She doesn’t. Neither does Varek.

“Hurry up,” she says dryly.

I slowly lift the gown over my head, and I can feel eyes boring holes into my bare flesh. Varek rakes over my body. Scanning my most intimate parts. Dread washes over me.

I’m a fucking whore.

I slip on the lingerie and stand in a closed-off manner. My arms crossed over my chest. My legs pressed together. Feeling exposed. More exposed than when I was selling my body for drugs. At least I had a choice in the matter back then.

“Perfect. I’ll do your make-up and we will head down to the auction room.”

I want to throw up. I want to die. I want Lucien. He will be the only one who can kill me.

* * *

I sit in a small room behind a stage. They have kept me locked in here for about twenty minutes. I have been counting to keep calm. As soon as I get sold, I am running. Fuck them.

I always knew she was a bad person, but we were friends in a way. I should have known she was into some fucked up shit.

The door swings open, and Nicolette appears.

“I have a few rules for the stage. Listen and you will be rewarded. Don’t listen, and I will make sure Miles is the top bidder.”

My stomach knots. Sweat beads on my forehead.

I nod.

“You will stand tall. Showcase yourself as an asset. You will smile and be polite. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Tell me you understand,” she snaps.

“I understand.”

“Good. After the bidding, the winner will walk to this room to claim his winnings. You will go with him, without a fight.”

I nod again. I wipe my sweaty palms on my bare thighs.

“Follow me.” She stands and walks to the door on the opposite wall from where she entered.

I stand and walk towards the door as she opens it.

I walk out onto the stage. I know this stage.

This is the Club Muse location in Utah. It’s their biggest club, and they have a lot of restricted access areas. I’ve only been here once for a burlesque show. What the fuck does Club Muse have to do with Sex Trafficking?

Guilt swarms around me, threatening to steal the air from my lungs. I have supported the business for so long. Silas is a good guy. Isn’t he? Pressure builds behind my eyes, but I can’t cry. Not now.

The song “Often” by the Weeknd filters throughout the room. I used to love this song. Now it will bring me nothing but disgust.

The bright lights warm my cold skin. I stand tall and plaster a fake smile on my face. I’ll be damned if Miles gets to buy me.

“Welcome to the stage, Lot Forty-Seven. She may not have virgin flesh, but she bites. She bleeds. And she obeys. An addict, yes, but pretty enough to fix.”

My blood turns to lava at his words. I am not an addict. I just needed to be numb. I can stop the drugs whenever I want. I’m loyal to Lucien.

“We will start the bidding at ten thousand.”

My ears ring as he continues the bidding. I zone out, unable to hear the offers or see the people offering thousands of dollars to use me as their whore.

The sound of applause breaks me from my trance. I look up and see everyone clapping. There are maybe 20 people here to bid. Fuck.

The sound of chatter and drinks clanking together has me ready to cut off my ears. Fucking disgusting.

I turn around to see Nicolette standing in the doorway. There is nothing I can do. Not yet. I’m too smart to fall into her trap. If I try to run, I’ll end up with Miles. That’s the last thing I want to do.

I walk back into the room to meet Nicolette. The air sends a shiver down my spine and sets my nerves on end.

“You did well. Ninety thousand dollars.”

She looks me up and down.

“I’m surprised we got more than twenty thousand for you.”

She rolls her eyes.

My anger is still rising. I feel nauseous from the waves of adrenaline pumping through my veins.

“Victor will be up to claim you shortly.”

She turns and exits the room. Enveloping me in the stale air.

I can’t believe Club Muse has been a front for sex trafficking. I need to tell Lucien. They could bring the whole business to a halt. I wonder how many people I know who are involved.

The door creaks open, and I am met with a tall, muscular figure. He has hair similar to Lucien’s. He doesn’t have the same eyes, though. His eyes are nearly black. He could eat me alive, and still not be satisfied. His tattoos snake up his arms underneath his plain t-shirt.

He looks simple. I wonder how fast he can run. I bet I’m faster.

He holds out his hand, “Victor,” he states in a charming, low voice.

I hold my hand out, “Lot forty-seven,” I say sarcastically. He chuckles.

He holds out a bag and drops it on the floor between us .

“Change.”

“W-what?”

“I said, change.” His tone is bitter.

I open the bag to see that he has clothes for me. Normal fucking clothes. I waste no time stripping and sliding into the shorts and t-shirt he brought me. I slip my feet into the tennis shoes, staring up at him while I do so.

“W-why are you doing this?”

The corner of his mouth threatens a smile, but he suppresses it.

“Because I can.”

Oddly enough, I trust him a little bit. He seems cold, but sincere. I don’t think he will lie to me.

I stand, and he takes his arm, hooking it with mine, as he escorts us out of the room. We go through another set of doors and then down the stairs.

“Where are we going?”

“We are taking the back way. Can’t let anyone know what I have, can I?” He smiles.

My cheeks heat from the compliment.

His chiseled jaw and chilling attitude. They remind me of him. Of Lucien.

I walk out the doors and feel the warm air on my skin. The sun hits my face and I feel what I have been dreaming of. Freedom.

Only, I know it’s temporary. I need to wait to run. If I try here, he will take me right back into Nicolette’s arms.

He walks us to a vehicle waiting. A Blacked-out Suburban. He opens the rear passenger door and lets me slide in. The cool leather greets me as I get in. He comes around to the other side and slides in next to me. Placing a possessive hand on my thigh.

My legs clench together. I don’t know why I am acting so weird right now. I’ve sold myself for money so many times. This time it feels different. I fear what Lucien will do when he finds me.

If he finds me.

* * *

We arrive at a large mansion decorated with white brick. It’s beautiful. Victor slides out of the car and opens my door for me. I slide out. Taking in the warm air once more.

“Care to have a tour?” He asks.

“Sure.”

I follow him along the paths.

He takes me to his garden, then his tennis court, followed by his garage.

Then we move inside the house. He shows me his four living areas, two dining rooms, his home theater, all eight bedrooms, bathrooms, and the kitchen.

I don’t think my parents ever went this all out, and they have millions of dollars.

We conclude the tour in the kitchen, which is accented with dark brown wood and black brick. It’s gorgeous.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes.” I don’t hesitate. I don’t remember the last meal I actually ate. Varek never gave me dinner. Nicolette never fed me.

“Great. I’ll make you something.”

I take a seat at the island and watch him cook. He seems so domesticated for someone who buys women.

“Why did you buy me? Seriously?” I ask.

He pulls out a pan from one of the cabinets, setting it down on the marble countertop.

“I have unique tastes. You fit the bill.”

The nonchalance in his tone stings my nerves. Agitation seeping through my pores.

“What kind of tastes?” I blurt out.

He stops, carefully selecting his next words. He turns, rounding the corner, placing his hand around my delicate throat.

Warmth seeps into my core. I’m loyal—I remind myself.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that yet.”

He squeezes tighter, cutting off my air.

“If you insist, I’ll show you later.”

He releases my neck and goes back to his task.

What the Hell does that mean? Remorse settles in my bones. Why did I ask him that? I belong to Lucien. We are married, aren’t we? Or did he lie to me?

I watch him as he cooks, wondering what will come later. I know I need to escape, but I need to eat something first.

Then I can run.