Torches encircle the entire area, guttering in the wind. The lake glitters, reflecting the flames as clashing shadows illuminate the prison’s facade.
This is hell, I realize. I close my eyes, unable to bear the sight. At least I know what they were building: a proper spot for a slave auction. It’s situated in front of the lake, which would make it easy for Byron to dispose of the women who don’t sell. Do they know that’s their potential fate, or has Byron left that part out so they don’t completely panic?
“Good evening, ladies,” Byron says, waltzing up to us with a beer in his hand. He’s abandoned his suit and tie, and unbuttoned his collar to look more casual. “What do you think? Pretty good for just a couple days, isn’t it?”
He looks so proud, but I’d die of shock if he helped hammer in a single nail.
“I have no doubt tomorrow’s auction and groundbreaking is going to be a huge hit, the most fun I’ve had in years,” Byron continues, looking out at the scene. “The guards will be sad to say goodbye to all the girls; they only just met. But I promised them the new inmates would be along within a week, so they’ll be fine.”
Every word out of his mouth makes me want to throw up; with my mouth gagged, I’d probably choke to death on my own vomit, but that would still be better than having to listen to this piece of shit prattle on. But then I wouldn’t get a chance to watch him die, and I wouldn’t want to miss that.
“Right now, dozens of sponsors are on their way here from all over the country. Half of them are up at Darren’s, enjoying his hospitality. Jonah’s there, Quinn, and he’s eagerly anticipating seeing you. He’s going to put on quite a show for the new guards. Personally, I can’t wait.”
As Byron gloats, Edwin jogs off to a small shed not far from the stage; he emerges shortly, wheeling along a wooden stockade toward us.
“Remember this, Quinn?” asks Byron. “It’s from the day you arrived. I thought it would bring a nice sense of symmetry to your time here.”
Working together, Byron and Edwin carefully free me from my bonds, just long enough to lock me in the stock. I try to break free of their grasp, but Edwin’s too strong. It takes them less than a minute to lock me into the device.
“Edwin, put Amber with the others,” Byron orders, pushing me and the stock. “Then go have some fun.”
“You got it, boss,” Edwin replies, chuckling.
Byron starts sweating, struggling to move me and the device toward a table. The wheels sink too far into the dirt to roll easily, and after a while Byron gives up and goes to get the table instead. I grin beneath my gag, taking some comfort in his fumbling.
On the table are a whip, a whiskey bottle, glasses and a bucket of ice. He takes the whip and holds it up close so I can see it. “I know I don’t have Reed’s stamina or finesse, but I make up for it by never granting mercy. We’ve got all night, Quinn, and I’m going to make the most of it.”
Chapter 34
A party for Darren Prescott’s rich friends is the last place I want to be right now. There’s no telling what could be happening to Quinn back at the prison. Seeing the new guards construct the auction stage, I considered going back on my word and sticking around to make sure none of those scumbags got within fifty feet of Quinn.
I have no choice but to tell myself I’m here because it’s the best shot I have of helping her, and if she knew why I was here, she’d approve. There’s not much I could do at the prison anyway, not without arousing suspicion. One disobeyed order, and I’d be done. I may as well use that one chance in a way that’ll do some good.
Of course, what I’m about to do will burn my cover — I have no illusions about that. I made a promise, though, and I’ll do anything in my power to protect Quinn.
“Hey Pete,” I say as I approach the gate. Like last time, he’s not alone, but instead of uniformed cops, it’s a pair of professionals in sharp suits.
“Reed, good to see you again,” the guard says as he gets close. “You’re here for the party?”
“That’s right.”
Pete sighs, shaking his head. “Look, there’s no nice way to say this, but you’re not on the guest list.”
I grin sheepishly and hold up my hands in defeat. “I know, I didn’t RSVP. I hate to ask this, but can you let me through? It’s really important. I have a surprise for Mr. Prescott, and a lot of people are counting on me.”
The man’s eyes light up. “Yeah? Can you tell me what it is?”
“Sorry,” I say. “Then it wouldn’t-”
“Be a surprise,” Pete finishes. “I get it. I’m sorry, but I’m really not supposed to do this.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Please, Pete. I promise, I’ll be twenty minutes, thirty tops. If you don’t see my taillights by then, you can send the suits after me.”
“Reed…” he says.
“Hey!” one of the suits barks. “Is there a problem?”