Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45194 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45194 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
More.
How much more would make it worth it? How much money would I need to be able to suppress all my anxiety and deal with what comes next? Right now, the bids aren't where I need them to be, and I'll be devastated if I end up having to go through with the contract for an amount that won't settle all the debt I'm drowning in.
With trembling fingers, I type words I never thought would come from me: Yes, but the bid would need to be double the last offer from a single bidder.
My stomach roils, but what choice do I have?
What difference will two extra men make? I ask myself. I'm still losing the same thing. I'm still having to live with the memories for the rest of my life. At least, with the money, I'll have a reason to put the past behind me. I can seal it all up in a box and bury it.
I imagine the look on the auctioneer's leering face. His commission will be huge, but I can't resent him too much. I could never have gotten to this point on my own.
Double.
The bids are climbing. Higher. Higher. The current figure makes my eyes burn, but it's still not enough. Another bid.
And another.
Higher.
Higher.
Am I really worth this much?
Remember, you're the most precious thing in my life, my mom would say. We'd play a game where I'd tell her that I loved her more, but she'd always shake her head and shout 'impossible' with a bright expression that felt like a burst of sunshine on my skin.
Higher.
Higher.
And behind every bid exists a man with more money than common sense. A man who wants to buy a thing that is rarely given in exchange for money rather than love.
Higher.
A rush of breath leaves my body, like a balloon blown too big and allowed to deflate between loose fingers.
Would these three anonymous men afford to double the bid that hangs on the screen as the final seconds pass? There's a moment when I think the auction will end with boss69 as the highest bidder. Even the username he's chosen makes me cringe. Then one second before the end of the auction, the double bid lands.
Montg232527 wins.
Flopping back in the chair, I press my hot hands to my cheeks, closing my eyes and pursing my lips to narrow my swiftly inhaled and exhaled breaths.
Montg.
It has to be a sick coincidence that the winners chose that as their username when Montgomery House is where all my nightmares originated. Flinching at the memory of the sound a fist made against my mother's tender flesh, I rest my hands on the console table and drag myself to standing.
The phone rings, and I snatch it up, swiping the screen and answering with a terse 'hello.'
"Honor, I told you that you would do well. I was right, wasn't I?"
"You were," I reply, keeping my voice at a level free of emotion.
"So, three bidders, huh? I didn't see that one coming."
"Me neither.”
"Well, I'm calling to let you know they've signed the contract. One month, three men. And for that, you get double the highest bid."
"One month?" I gasp.
"Yep. Per the auction terms, bids are taken for one day or one month. You agreed to the extension."
The thudding in my chest is at the volume of a bison stampede. Had I read that in the terms and conditions? I don't remember, but so much of this feels like something that is happening to someone else.
"The contract is there for you to sign," he said. "As per the arrangement, you should make yourself available at the time and place listed."
I take a step toward the computer and click on the waiting file, skimming down to find the details of the first meeting.
Eight o'clock tonight. Club Scarlet. It lists the address, but I don't need it. Club Scarlet is the adult-only club on the same block as this hotel. Although the auction has nothing to do with the Club, the auctioneer told me he directs bidders there because it's neutral and discreet.
The details of the bidders and my own will be redacted. This arrangement is strictly anonymous to prevent stalking—or worse—after the transaction is over. I use the digital signing software to seal the deal before I experience hesitation or regret.
Sometimes in life, we're forced to walk forward. Our past lurks behind us, wielding a gun, pressing it harshly into the bony ridge of our spine, allowing no deviation.
This is one of those times.
* * *
For an hour, I listen to an audiobook, centering myself by lying on the huge, luxurious bed with my eyes closed. I rest easy in a fictional world where men fight to protect the female character from all the harshness of life.
And when the alarm on my phone sounds, I try to keep a feeling of calmness and security wrapped around me like a protective blanket.