Chapter Eighteen
A Hard Truth
It's hours before they come back, and I'm the only one still awake waiting.
They don't have the girl. Not that I'd expected them to. With disappointment in my voice, I ask, "What happened to her?"
Apollo motions with a finger to his lips for silence, before reaching into his pocket for his phone. After he taps the screen a few times, he glances at Marcus. He defers to him a lot, I'm noticing, in social interactions.
"She'll be seeing a doctor and going into general rotation like the pets you saw at the party. I'm not going to sugarcoat it, Lark." Yelling at him must have struck a guilty nerve because I’m honestly shocked that he used my name. "That girl was supposed to replace you. Her buyer wanted you after he saw you with all of us. He owns a stud farm in Ecuador and has certain–tastes." He finally finishes after searching for a word.
I wait for him to go on, and instead, Apollo picks up for him. Guess it's too distasteful for even Marcus to talk about.
"If he couldn't have you, he wanted a virgin to train himself. I didn't ask why, but I'm sure we can all speculate. When I refused to let you out of training for him to purchase, Robert appeased him with the girl." My hand slips up to cover my mouth in horror even as my eyes prick with tears. I hadn't known that poor girl was taking my place. "Now Robert is moving up the exhibition date yet again. Before the buyer leaves the country."
I stiffen legs that want to give out in weakness and terror. The urge to vomit is so bad I have to force down the saliva pooling in my mouth.
I'm being sold.
In a whisper, I ask the only thing that matters. "How long?"
Marcus, head down, mumbles, "Not long enough. Four days."
I shore up my ragged emotions, nodding. "I won't go. That's all there is to it."
Apollo's head jerks up. "Don't say that. Don't breathe a fucking word of that. You'll do whatever he says."
"The hell I will! Watch me." Arms crossed, I refuse to give in.
"He'll make you choose." I don't understand Apollo's meaning. "I had a brother once. He'll make you choose."
Marcus tries to stop him. "Apollo, no. We can't have you off the rails right now. Please. Master, for their sake."
My curiosity is piqued even with the dire conversation. I'd wondered if that was the relationship, but never heard Marcus address Apollo in such a manner.
Apollo holds up a hand to stop Marcus. "I'll be fine. Nightingale, here, has my full support. I won't jeopardize her safety." Turning his attention my way, he explains, "My mother wasn't technically a slave, but her father did sell her out, so she might as well have been. She was his trophy. Had all the etiquette classes, designer clothes, the works. He would trot her out to every social function. My father wasn't particularly loving, but he was civil... until my brother was born. He'd knocked up one of his pets. Made Mother take him in, pretend he was hers. She went into seclusion with the excuse of a difficult pregnancy, and no one was the wiser. She hadn't asked questions about where, or how, he earned his money, until my brother was six or seven. It was when Robert found out he had another child on the way. Another boy. Robert only allowed 'accidental' pregnancies to be kept if the child was male to continue his legacy. Later, I found out dear old dad had started shooting blanks more often than not. Thankfully, that meant my mother never had the misfortune of getting pregnant by him again. I suspect she'd have faced the same decree of an abortion, were it a girl. The pet had a stillborn toward the end of her pregnancy. Now, after being in seclusion, Mother now had to be in mourning for a child that wasn't hers.
She decided to take a spa week as that was acceptable society-wise. Except she hadn't told Robert, and it was one of his exhibition auctions. One of the members let it slip where she could overhear, and she went investigating. She knew he wasn't on the up and up but hadn't imagined what was really going on. She was horrified to find out and that he was grooming me to join in. I was fifteen by then and there to shadow him. He caught her trying to take my brother and I to leave him, and she refused to give in. He gave her a choice. She could continue to be a proper wife and keep her children, or she could leave. Without us. I think we all knew he'd never let her leave alive since he was a sadistic bastard even then. She attacked him with a knife she'd gotten from the kitchens, but she didn't get far before a guard stopped her. You've met him, Robert’s assistant. My brother tried to help her, and it enraged Robert even more. Once more, he told her she had to choose. This time between her or my brother’s life.
At that, I found my courage and protested. Robert cracked, spewing about breeding with common whores and ungrateful children. Mother refused to choose, and I don't blame her for what happened that night. Robert is insane. He took her stolen knife and slashed my brother's throat. Had me held by guards even as the one holding her back let go at a signal from him. He told her again to choose, and his assistant held a gun to my head just like he did Braeden's. My mother was on her knees, sobbing over my brother who had bled out in front of her, when she told me she loved me and used the knife on herself. I lost the two most important people to me that night and had to go on like nothing happened. An hour later, Marcus was escorted to my rooms as my 'present'. He was sixteen and captured from overseas. I was told to choose a symbol for my mark, and I did— he got a brand— while I got a tattoo.
Apollo looks at me with hollow eyes." Now you know how monstrous we both are. Don't make the same mistake my mother and I made."
I don't have any words of comfort for him, but Marcus pulls him in, mumbling in a language I can't understand.
I make a decision. I'll get through Robert's debauched parade, and that's it. As soon as the guys are safe, either someone from the FBI or elsewhere intervenes, or I'll take care of it before I leave the States. It'll be me or my new owner— one of us won't make it past the border. I won't end up like the poor girl we found in the closet.