“I’m not an auctioneer,” Eret says, confused. “I’m just the manager. The bidding is all electronic. We don’t have auctioneers on Dreagle.”
This seems to confuse Mr. VIP, which clears something up for me: he’s not from Dreagle. This might even be his first trip here. I’m not sure, but it’s strange he seems so confused he’s not winning the bid and it’s even stranger he doesn’t seem to know anything about how auctions work on this planet.
“This is bullshit,” he says, standing. “Bring me my girls. I’m leaving.” He storms toward the back of the auction house and the remaining patrons quickly get out of the way. No one wants to be in his path as he storms out and I can’t help but wonder what the hell that whole scene was about.
“Bidder number 4502,” the auction manager glances at the screen and reads my number. “You have won the human for 342,049 credits. Please see Janette to pay and we will have your slave readied for you.”
With that, he takes the woman, who is trembling, and guides her back off the stage. She stumbles as she moves and he doesn’t catch her. Instead, she falls to the ground and hits the wood paneled stage with a groan.
“Quiet, slut,” Eret frowns and kicks her.
“Enough,” I stand up and glare at Eret. He looks shocked when he turns back to me.
“Excuse me?” He says, as if he’s not sure what I mean, as if he’s really that stupid.
“I said that’s enough. I’ll take her now. Bring her to me.” I turn to Janette, who is waiting to transfer my credits. I pull out a credit token and press it to a small scanner she’s holding. My token has all of the money I’ve exchanged into Dreaglan credits. Jeanette politely turns her head as the token transfers my credits from my account to theirs.
The transfer scanner beeps to let us both know the transfer is complete.
“Do you need to see your credit balance?” Janette asks politely. There’s a function on the scanner that will enable me to see my current balance. I nod, and she pushes a button, then holds out the scanner. Once more, I scan my card, but this time, I frown when I see the number.
It’s not much at all.
With only 4,000 credits left to my name, I have to wonder if this girl is worth it. I have to hope she’s worth it. I have to hope that above all else, she’s worth what I spent because I swear to dragons that if she bites me, it’s all over. I’ll let her loose and she can fend for herself on Dreagle.
Some Sapphirans like biting.
I am not one of them.
Erat brings the girl down from the stage. He guides her to me, then shakes my hand.
“Pleasure doing business,” he says politely.
“Fuck off,” I say. He might be the person in charge, but he’s still a huge dick. Stealing women? Really? That’s just not okay on any level. Eret looks surprised at my comment, but I’ve already paid, and he’s surprisingly non-aggressive as I take my new slave in my arms and carry her out of the auction house.
There are whispers as I leave and I know I’ve broken some sort of unspoken protocol. No one carries their girls. No matter how broken, how beat-up, how hurt they are, the women are expected to walk on their own.
After all, they have to take care of their master.
They have to do his bidding.
They’re bound to him for all eternity now, whether they like it or not.
Only, as I carry the young woman in my arms, self-hatred begins to grow. I can’t believe I fucking bought a woman. I can’t believe I took her. I can’t believe I thought I was saving her, so I purchased her like she was a book in a shop, like she was a meal I wanted for lunch.
I bought her like she was nothing but a monetary exchange.
I bought her like she wasn’t important.
I leave the auction house and continue my journey down the dark alley. It’s raining now, and I pull my coat around her as much as possible and put my hat on top of her head. It’s not much, and she’s still going to be completely soaked by the time we get back to my ship, but it’s something. It’s better than nothing.
“Thank you,” she whispers softly, and I don’t answer. To be honest, I don’t really know what to say to her. I don’t know how to say something that’s going to be helpful and not hurtful. I don’t know how to say something that isn’t going to be stupid.
“I’m sorry,” I say, and her body stiffens in my arms. I’m sorry for so many things. I’m sorry she was kidnapped. I’m sorry she was cut. I’m sorry she was injured and locked away. I’m sorry she was sold. I’m sorry I bought her.
I’m sorry she’s not living a normal life somewhere.
I’m sorry this is her life now.