Shit. What’s going on?
“I filed a petition on your behalf, and spoke to Jonah a few days ago,” says Darren, opening a desk drawer. He pulls out an envelope and hands it to me. “Citing years of a spotless record, gainful employment and impressive personal recommendations, he agreed you’ve proven yourself an upstanding citizen. He’s decided that the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania no longer needs to burden you for your past misdeeds. I’ve got here the notification that your criminal record has been officially expunged.”
“Thanks,” I say, taking the envelope. I can hardly believe it — he came through on his promise. “I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” says Darren, leading me back out of his office. “Really, Reed — all these years, you’ve been a great friend to my family and an invaluable asset to my company. I don’t know where we’d be today without you.”
He reaches for my hand to shake it again, so I grab it and pull him into a hug. He laughs, not expecting the gesture. “Really, thank you,” I say, patting his back. “You’ve done so much for me, I don’t think I could ever thank you properly.”
“Okay, okay,” he replies, gently pushing me off. “Come on, the presentation’s supposed to start soon. I have to go. Plus, a few of our new business partners are here to hash out the details on our new prisoners. We hope to start receiving new girls within the week.”
“That’s great,” I say, struggling to maintain a mask of earnest enthusiasm. Every lie I speak wears me down a little more. I’m tired of it. I need to do what I came here to do, and soon. However, there is one thing I can say that will be the total truth. “Lance would be very proud of all this, if he knew.”
The subdued noise of the gathering grows closer as we walk. Prescott smiles and sighs, then shakes his head. “That’s nice of you to say, but who do you think you’re fooling? Lance wouldn’t have given a shit.”
“Seriously,” I argue. “All the money and women and power — he wanted to be you.”
“Really, I’m flattered,” says Prescott. “But Lance wouldn’t have lasted ten minutes in businessorpolitics. Yeah, he liked burning through my cash and fucking any hole he could, but he never had the patience to build something. He was destined to live off my fortune his whole life because he never knew any other way. Lance took everything for granted, and that’s on me. I should have been a better father.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod. Does he really think that’s the worst thing he did raising Lance? Of course, Prescott probably doesn’t care about the way Lance treated women, considering what he did to his ex-wife, if the bitch — if Jacqueline’s claim is to be believed. It would mean Prescott had Lance’s mother killed? Did Lance know the truth? Did he even suspect it? Did Darren cry crocodile tears at the funeral, or even bother to attend? There’s so much I’d have to say to Lance if he ever wakes from his coma — so many questions to ask.
“I’m sorry,” I say after a moment. “I didn’t mean to be a downer.”
Darren waves it off. “Don’t worry. I have to go, but we’ll talk later, alright?”
“Sure, see you soon,” I say, turning to go.
I reach into my pocket, feeling the keycard I swiped from Prescott when we hugged. Hopefully, he won’t notice its missing for a while.
Part of me wants to head back to the security booth and check my phone one last time. If Carson has tried getting in touch with me, this is likely my last chance to find out. I start walking in that direction when I hear Prescott’s voice boom through the speaker system.
“Esteemed friends and colleagues, welcome!” he says from a few rooms away.
Curious, I turn around, making my way to the ballroom.
“Tomorrow will usher in a new era at the Walker Work Center,” Prescott continues, giving me a nod as I enter the room. “Those of you assembled here, and others still on their way, will bid on the most well-trained, obedient and attractive women ever offered by the facility. There will be live demonstrations of their many talents, and we will have plenty of time for buyers to test drive each model, if you catch my drift.”
The men chuckle and hoot, a few shifting in place or crossing their legs.
Prescott grins, waiting for the noise to die back down. “Knowing all of you, I’m sure the demand for the women will be quite high, so I’ve arranged a preview. There are pads and pens on your tables — feel free to make yourself a little note if there’s a girl that catches your interest. We’ll go through them alphabetically, starting with Amber.”
He presses a button and a projector turns on, illuminating a screen with a still photograph of the girl. Next to the shot is a snippet of security camera footage, showing her being whipped in her jail cell. Underneath her, a scrolling line of text reads,Starting bid: $7,000,000.
“I’m not going to lie to you — Amber is one of the many women at Walker who has killed. She’s dangerous, but our talented staff has broken her completely. She’ll obey any order. If she gets out of line, a little punishment goes a long way.”
Fucking hell.It’s like a shopping channel for psychopaths. My cheeks burn in shame, knowing I’m the one who made Amber into a product Prescott could sell. I wish I had my phone so I could record all this and send it to Carson — it’s too bad I couldn’t sneak it in.
I turn around and leave. I can’t stand to watch any more of this, and there’s not much time left before Pete will start wondering what happened. This is a perfect time to do what I came here for, to keep my promise. Plus, with everyone watching the presentation, I should have a window to find what I need and get away.
Yet, making my way through the mansion, I start to panic. I’m not sure where to go. Checking each room one at a time will take too long, and if I’m spotted by a security patrol, they might wonder what I’m doing. I check the master bedroom, but no one’s there. Down the hall, I find a pair of empty guest rooms, followed by Lance’s room, but it’s empty too — dusty even, as if the cleaning staff hasn’t bothered going in there in weeks. Perhaps they realized no one would notice.
I check the gaming lounge but only find a pair of caterers slacking off, throwing darts. Waving and backing away, I shut the door behind me.
Finally, using the keycard, I head down into the basement. I’ve never been in here, but as soon as I exit the stairs I see why: it’s a dungeon, the biggest I’ve ever seen. Easily three times the size of Walker’s, it has so many sex toys hanging from the walls, I wonder how anyone could possibly use them all. Bondage furniture, stockades, straight-jackets — he has everything I could imagine, including a dog cage with “Quinn” already printed on the nameplate.
You’re fucking deranged, Darren.I can’t believe how blind I’ve been.
Then I see the girl, the reason I’m here. Standing against the wall, her hands pulled over her head by a rope hanging from the ceiling, she slumps in place, eyes closed. Naked and gagged, she looks just like her sister.