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.