Chapter 30
Maintaining a constant expression of despair and impotent rage takes all my willpower. I have a plan now, one that will expose Prescott and his crime organization. Like a weed ripped from the earth, their twisted, pale roots will rot in the light of day. I want Byron and the rest to see it on my face: I’m going to be the end of all of you.
I want to smile like I know something they don’t, to be cocky as a prom king on summer vacation, but I’ll save it for when this is all over. If Reed does his part and I do mine, there will be plenty of time to gloat.
Focusing on sewing makes keeping myself in check a lot easier — it also helps me ignore the steady ache in my ass. Reed did a number on me last night. Jacqueline works at the next table, and being so close but not able to talk, lest we be overheard, is killing me. I have so much to ask her about. She’s hated me, or acted like it, for so long; I never even imagined I might eventually get to speak with her and learn her story. I’ve wondered especially about her tattoos — do the disturbing images scrawled across her body mean anything, or are they just art? Of course, there’s the one that’s haunted me the most: You did this. I’m sure that’s meant for somebody, but who?
I need to get her alone, and not just to bond — it’s the first part of the plan. With Reed taking a day off — ostensibly to acquire new tools for the dungeon — that just leaves Hunter and Edwin to guard us. They’re being extra careful, but they still need to take breaks like anyone else. So I wait for Hunter to skip out for the bathroom and for Edwin to reach the other end of the room before I risk a whisper.
“We need to talk.”
Jacqueline doesn’t turn or move. “Tonight,” she whispers back.
“Alone. Now.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
This gets her to turn. She looks at me like I just blew smoke in her face. I know what I’m asking.
“It’s important,” I say.
She doesn’t reply, and when I steal a glance at her she nods.
“Quinn, work faster,” Edwin growls as he walks by.
“Yes,” I mumble. I pick up the pace, waiting for Jacqueline to do her thing.
She waits about ten minutes — long enough for Hunter to get back.
“Edwin,” she says to him when he gets close. “Bathroom?”
He grunts affirmatively and starts working her cuffs. I keep sewing, hoping no one notices my foot tapping on the floor. My stomach rolls like crazy, full of nerves. I may be sitting still but I feel in motion. I can almost hear the gears turning.
When Edwin gets back, Jacqueline isn’t with him. I stay silent when he marches up to me, which is the best way for me to convincingly act surprised.
“Quinn, I need you to come with me,” he says, preparing my restraints.
“What? Why?” I bark, thrashing in fake resistance.
He leads me to the men’s room, where Jacqueline stands waiting, cuffed to a urinal pipe. She smiles at us as we enter.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Edwin grunts a laugh. “Apparently the bitch thinks Reed is going too soft on you.”
Gotta sell this.
Sneering, I lower my pants and turn to show them the dark bruises on my ass. “You think this is too soft?”
“That’s between you two,” Edwin says, freeing Jacqueline. “Bitch, not too rough, okay? You know the rules. I don’t need Byron on my case right now.”
“I’ll leave her in one piece,” says Jacqueline.
Edwin grunts again. “I’ll be right outside. Either of you tries anything, I will fuck you up.”
I shouldn’t roll my eyes, but a girl only has so much willpower. Luckily, Edwin’s already on his way out.
“I’m going to have to hit you,” Jacqueline says the second the door shuts. “You get that, right?”
“Don’t worry, it’s part of the plan.” I move in close to her, wishing my hands weren’t cuffed behind my back. “Spread the word. We’re getting the fuck out of here. The girls need to be ready to fight.”
She snorts, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “How’s that supposed to work?”
“Divide and conquer,” I explain. “They’ve been using it on us since I got here, and probably long before that, no? It’s time we use it on them. All I need from you is a good beating.”
“What?”
I nod. “You heard me. Kick my ass.”
Jacqueline smiles. “I can do that, but how’s it going to help?”
“I can’t tell you any more, in case we get caught,” I lie. Telling her any more would mean divulging Reed’s involvement — as much as he deserves credit for helping us, I just got Jacqueline to trust me. Being in league with Reed might jeopardize our newfound alliance, and I need them both for this to work. “Convince the other women to hold on because the end is in motion. Convince them to fight back when the time comes. That’s all I’m asking.”
She steps up to me, staring me down. “And if your plan doesn’t work?”
I don’t flinch. “Then we go down fighting.”
Jacqueline nods slowly, weighing my words. Then she rears back and punches me in the gut.
Fuck!
Alliance or not, she doesn’t pull her punches. That hurt!
This had better be worth it.
“Like that?” she says.
“No,” I cough, doubled over. “It has to… look good. I need one… in the face.”
Maybe this plan isn’t as smart as I thought.
Jacqueline obliges, nailing me right in the jaw with a closed fist. She follows that up with several hard slaps. It’s painful, but at least I don’t think she’s going to give me a concussion.
“That good?” she asks, keeping her fists in the air.
I turn to look at myself in the bathroom mirror: my face burns red from the slaps, and there’s a bruise on my cheek from the punch. It definitely looks like I got roughed up, but it’s not enough.
“No, keep going. Make me scream.”
She keeps going, punching me in the side a few times. I howl as pain sparks throughout my body, and not in a fun way.
Jacqueline yanks my hair, pulling my head back and exposing my neck.
“Let me go!” I shout, loud enough that Edwin should hear outside. “Choke me,” I whisper to Jacqueline.
She doesn’t have to be asked twice. She grabs my neck and starts to squeeze, maybe a bit too hard. I try to inhale, but can’t. Gripped by exploding panic, I try shaking her off, but she’s too strong. I scream again, but nothing comes out.
Then Edwin bursts inside and pushes Jacqueline off me, pinning her against the wall. I fall down to the cold bathroom floor, sucking in air with a deep gasp.
“What the fuck, bitch? What the fuck were you doing?” he asks, cuffing her back to the urinal.
“Byron!” I cough, thrashing on the ground, kicking my legs out and rattling my restraints.
Edwin turns to me. “What’s that?”
“Byron… I want to… see Byron.”
Crouching down to the ground, Edwin pulls me up onto my knees, holding the collar of my uniform. “Why? You going to rat on me, you dumb little cunt?”
“No, I don’t give a fuck… about you.” I look over his shoulder at Jacqueline. “She’s going to pay for all the shit she’s done.”
Edwin laughs for real, shaking his head. “Quinn, do you seriously think any of us would let you loose after what you did to Corbin?”
“That’s why I need to talk to Byron, so he can arrange it,” I argue.
“He won’t.”
“I’d like to ask anyway.”
Edwin pulls me to my feet, igniting a sea of pain from the damage Jacqueline caused.
“Hey Princess,” she spits. “Whatever you do, I’ll get you back. Count on it.”
Caressing the mark on my cheek, Edwin grins. “That actually sounds like fun. Maybe Mr. Ashworth will agree. Let’s go find out.”
“Fine,” I mutter.
Thank you, Jacqueline.
—
Edwin knocks on the door when we arrive at Byron’s office.
“One minute!” the warden shouts.
It takes longer than that, but not by much. Amber pops out of the door, shuffling in her restraints in the direction of the workshop.
“What is it?” Byron barks, sticking his head out into the hall. His cheeks are flushed, and sweat drips down his temples.
“Quinn wanted to see you,” says Edwin.
“Really? That’s a shame, I’d liked to have seen her ten minutes ago. What do you want, Ms. Harris? What happened to you?”
I look to him, then to Edwin, then back to Byron. “Can we speak in private?”
“I didn’t do this to her,” Edwin interjects. “Tell him, Quinn.”
“He didn’t,” I confirm, nodding. “Can we talk?”
“Sure,” says Byron, taking me by the arm. “Edwin, go make sure Amber doesn’t get lost. And shut the door behind you.”
“Yes, sir.”
I’ve never been inside his office before. It reeks of fast, unsatisfying sex, and right now I’d like to knee him in the crotch and stamp on his neck, but for now I keep a lid on my rage.
“It looks like you’ve had a bad day,” he says, dumping me in the wheeled chair facing his desk. “Too bad Reed’s not here to make you feel better.”
I’d agree with him, but what Reed’s doing now will make his absence worth it.
“Is that why you’re here, Quinn? To get your fix?”
“No,” I mumble, staring at the picture frame on his desk. I wonder, who’s in it? He never seems to leave the prison — does he have a family? Maybe it’s parents, or siblings or friends — like Prescott. That would be a good way to suck up to the boss, wouldn’t it?
“Only, do you want me to whip you, or fuck you? There’s not much difference to you, is there? What would you like, Quinn?”
“To get out of here,” I reply, looking up.
Byron laughs. “Really? You’ve had enough? You want to go home?”
“I’m not an idiot, I know you’re not going to let me go. I want to be sponsored.”
This gets Byron to listen. “Really?”
“As soon as possible. I’d rather take my chances with a sponsor than stay here.”
Byron opens up a desk drawer and pulls out a cigar, a cutter and a Zippo. I wait while he lights up, puffing dense smoke into the air.
“You won’t be here forever, Quinn. Darren’s going to take you after the election.”
I shake my head. “That’s weeks away! I’m not waiting that long. Why can’t someone else sponsor me?”
Byron sighs and taps the cigar into an ashtray. “Because Darren and I are friends. We’ve made each other very rich, and he calls the shots.”
“He’s made you rich, but he’s made himself powerful. He’s a king of industry, an international player — he represents hundreds of thousands of people. You have power over a few dozen helpless women and a few idiot guards in the middle of nowhere. No one knows you exist. That’s not power.”
His face darkening, Byron leans back in his seat. “What are you driving at, Harris?”
Bingo.
A weight lifts off my chest — I’d worried he would reject my whole effort here and everything I did with Jacqueline would be for nothing. Thankfully, he hasn’t thrown me out of the office yet. He’s intrigued.
“Darren’s your boss, not your friend. The small bit of power you have really belongs to him, and that makes you vulnerable to his whims. How would you like to have your own influence in the world, independent of the Prescott name?”
“And how are you going to do that?” Byron asks, reclining and breathing smoke into the air.
“By cementing your reputation as the man to see about acquiring high-quality slaves. Starting with me.”
He falls forward, landing on his feet with a thump. “Since when are you so eager to help me?”
“If helping you, helps me-”
“And fucking over the other residents here?” he continues.
“They’ve done nothing but make my life miserable since I got here,” I claim. “I don’t owe them anything.” As the words come out of my mouth, I don’t know how anyone could ever believe me. I’ve never told such a boldfaced lie in my life.
“So what exactly are you proposing, Quinn?”
I lean forward and rise to my feet. “Hold an auction. Sell me off, and all the other women. Get the highest prices for us you can. Send a lot of men home happy, and make room in the prison for all your new… residents. Prescott gets his cut of the money, but you’ll get the lion’s share — and from now on, you’ll be the real face of the business.”
Byron sits there, puffing out smoke rings. His face gives away nothing but amusement. Is he seriously considering my offer, or just keeping me in suspense for fun? In fairness, I’m sure it’s a lot for him to think about: the logistics of organizing such an event, the fallout of pulling a fast one on Prescott, the opportunity to rise higher in the world of sex trafficking. Hopefully, he’s also thinking about the joy of being rid of a headache like me.
“Ms. Harris,” he says at last. “I know you’re just trying to save your own skin. Don’t think I don’t respect that, because I do, but Darren will be very, very angry at me if I do this. It could ruin a friendship that goes back decades. You know I can’t risk that.”
I shake my head. “Prescott doesn’t have to lose. You can invite him, and he can participate in the auction. If he wins, give him his money back when it’s over. He’ll be satisfied, and everyone else will believe he won me fair and square. The rest of the sponsors will bid higher on the other girls, not wanting to go home empty-handed.”
Byron nods. “And what makes you think you’ll command such a high price, Quinn?”
I shrug. “I like sex, and pain, and submitting. You can even show me off in front of everyone. I’ll cry, I’ll fight, I’ll do whatever will drive up that price. By the end, every man there will want me.”
Looking down at Byron’s pants, I can see a rising tent. I grin at him, licking my lips.
I’m going to need a long fucking shower after this.
“You’re really twisted,” he says, pulling himself into his desk to hide his erection. “I had no idea you could be so cruel.”
I learned from the best, asshole.
He adds, “If I didn’t have little Amber to keep me satisfied, I’d even consider putting in a bid myself. Congratulations, Quinn. You’ve convinced me. Well done. I’ll arrange to have the sponsors here soon. But there’s one thing I should tell you.”
“What’s that?” My heart beats so fast I can’t even stand still without twitching.
His smile widens. “You might remember our friend Jonah? Judge Jefferson? The man you nearly killed after mutilating his face? He still wants some payback for all that.”
No.
“So when I show you off for the auction, I’m sure he’d love to do the honors.”
Oh no no no!
My stomach joins my pulsing heart, and I nearly retch. But then something occurs to me, and I swallow down my trepidation. The last thing I want is to be at that psychopath’s mercy, but if Reed does his part, it’ll be worth it.
“What do you say, Quinn?” Byron asks.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”