Seal'd Auction

by Charlotte Byrd

  “I need you to do a job tomorrow night.” He handed me a slip of paper with a few words scribbled on it. “Got some money needs to be picked up. Courier was bringing a delivery down from Reno and he stopped in to Kerri’s Ranch, brothel out by Pahrump. You know it?”

  I nodded. I hadn’t ever been there, but Pahrump was a small town, it would be easy to find.

  “Anyway, the woman who runs the place is a friend of the Boss, so when this guy came in with a bag full of cash and started ordering off the expensive part of the menu, she gave us a ring. Their security threw him out and kept the cash. Now, I got somebody out looking for the courier. He won’t get too far. But I need someone reliable to go out and pick up the money.”

  I arched my eyebrow at him.

  “Jax, I’m not a delivery guy. Don’t you have other people who can do this kind of thing?”

  “I need someone I can trust. And now that the courier is in the wind and knows that we are coming for him, who knows who he has told about the money. There might be someone staking the place out, waiting for the pickup. If you pick it up, maybe we can avoid any potential incident. There is about three-quarters of a mil in that bag.”

  I nodded and then held up the paper between my middle and forefinger.

  “And this?”

  “Just say that to the madam and she will bring you the bag. Don’t worry about counting it. She knows not to try anything.”

  “And where do I drop it?”

  “Boss is going to be at an event tomorrow night. Bring it there. I’ll text you the address tomorrow.”

  And with that, Jax stood up, turned on his heel, and walked straight out of the club. I looked over the scrap of paper. I didn’t understand the need for the cloak and dagger nonsense, but whatever. ‘This place is like herring in a barrel.’ I was sure I would feel like a fool saying it, but as long as it got the job done, I suppose I could stomach it.

  I looked back at the stage and saw Kyle holding a dollar bill between his teeth, enticing a caramel brown beauty to take it with her breasts. I gritted my teeth. I was tired and wanted to get home, but it looked like my ride was in no hurry. I decided to give him another ten minutes and then I would tell him we needed to go.

  When I saw Kyle heading to the VIP room with one of the girls, I knew I needed to make other arrangements. I grabbed him by the arm as he went by and told him I would be taking a cab home. He smiled as if he were surprised to see me still here. He probably hadn’t given me a second thought once we walked in the door and the tits came out.

  Home was a three-story apartment building that Kovalev owned on the west side of town. The units were filled with various people in Kovalev’s orbit – generally girlfriends or hired muscle, like me. I had moved in when he first hired me. I hadn’t had anywhere else to live at the time. I stayed out of laziness more than anything. I could move easily. It wasn’t like I had a lot of furniture. I kept things spare and clean. If I left that night, there wouldn’t be anything in that apartment that told you anything about the person who had lived in it. But moving would require me to have somewhere else to go, and my life was devoid of destinations at that point. Besides, I lived rent free, and the neighbors weren’t too bad.

  There was one, the girl in the third-floor corner unit, opposite side of the building from me. I had only seen her a few times and we had never spoken. She seemed shy, withdrawn. But there was something about her that was intriguing. She was Kovalev’s girlfriend. One of them, at least. All of the other girls in the building were girlfriends of his subordinates. I knew that his main girlfriend had a condo next to the Aria right on the Strip. His wife lived at their house outside of town. But this girl was something else. Only Kovalev came to see her. When she left the apartment, she always went with one of Kovalev’s personal bodyguards. It didn’t look like they were there to protect her. Something was strange about it, something didn’t sit right. But then again, it wasn’t really my business.

  I sat down in the easy chair that was the one piece of real comfort that I had in the apartment. I slept sitting there as often as I slept in the bed. I flipped on the TV and searched through the channels without any serious intention of watching anything. I just wanted the flickering light and sound to provide a layer of noise, drown out the rest of the world, and let me sleep. I settled on a nature documentary. They usually have narrators with calm, soothing voices. Even when they are describing some wildebeest’s violent death at the jaws of some crocodile or hyena. A lot of the guys I work with, a lot of the guys I was in the SEALs with, thought of the world in terms of predator and prey. They imagined that their violence fulfilled a natural role, a place in some prescribed order. It made it easier, I guess. It let you avoid hard questions.

  Was I sure that life wasn’t as simplistic and binary as they believed? And if it was just hunter and hunted, which one was I? I didn’t know which question disturbed me more.

  Chapter 4 - Claire

  A knock at my door woke me just as the morning sunlight began to stream weakly through the openings in my curtains. I wrapped my robe around myself and walked over to the door. Hulking in the doorway was one of Kovalev’s guys. I didn’t recognize this one, but then again, they all pretty much looked the same. He was holding a garment bag out toward me.

  “This is for you. Boss will send a car here at eight o’clock tonight. He wants you to wear this.”

  He thrust the bag toward me and waited for me to take it. Once I had it in my hands, he turned without another word and walked toward the stairs. I closed the door behind him and laid the garment bag onto the bed. Inside was a gorgeous dress, dark blue and low cut. I couldn’t imagine how a man as coarse and brutish as Kovalev could have such exquisite taste in fashion.

  What was going on? In all the time I had been here, Kovalev had never taken me out on a date. He had rarely seen me outside of this apartment. What kind of event was I to attend that would require such an outfit? I began to feel a little sick to my stomach. My emotions whipsawed back and forth between excitement and apprehension. On the one hand, I was happy to have the chance to wear a pretty dress and go to a fancy event. But on the other, any kind of departure from the routine gave me pause. I wasn’t happy about the status quo, but at least it was relatively stable. Knowing Kovalev, any change was likely to make things worse. I spent the rest of the day trying to distract myself instead of waiting for the night to come.

  The view out my window was generally very boring. Not many people walked around here, so all I saw were anonymous vehicles rolling by. I stared idly outside. I could see the hotels on the Strip in the distance. The sunlight was glinting off the windows. I wondered if Kovalev would be taking me to one of the casinos.

  A movement caught my eye on the level below. One of the men who lived in the apartment building was walking out. It was Jason. I hadn’t ever talked to him, but I had heard some of the other girls talking about him. There was something different about him. He didn’t leer at the girls the way that the other guys did, the kind of look that made no attempt to disguise their lurid thoughts. He always smiled at me when he saw me. His eyes were kind and his smile seemed genuine. It didn’t make him any less intimidating. I had overheard some of the other guys talking about him with what could only be described as awe. They didn’t seem to like him, but they knew not to mess with him.

  He crossed the little courtyard in a few long strides and then was out of the view of my little window. The world was empty again. I had to figure out what I was going to do for the rest of the day to occupy my mind before I had to start getting ready to go out for the night. I picked up one of the books on my nightstand and flipped open to a random page. I had read everything in this room a few times. I kept asking to get something new, but Kovalev never cared to do anything about it. The hired muscle just snorted when I asked them to go out to get me a new book. I doubted if they even knew where to find a bookstore.

  I spent the rest of the morning and the early afternoon down in the silo with the ch
aracters in Hugh Howey’s Wool. I reflected on how ridiculous it was that I felt jealous of them. Even if they were trapped below ground in a post-apocalyptic hellscape, at least they had other people around, a community. I missed the casual acquaintances that I had never valued when I had them. I missed that the baristas at my favorite coffee shop knew my name and favorite drink. I always thought of myself as individualistic, but this isolation was nearly impossible to bear. Can we even be human without other people? Don’t we need other people to help construct our own identity? In the eyes of Kovalev and his minions, even the other girls in the building, I was nobody, an object. Valuable, maybe, but still something less than a person. Despite my best efforts, it was getting harder and harder to hang onto my sense of self.

  Maybe that was why I was so excited for this night out. I would have the chance to be in a room with other people. I would be in a different context, one where I could appear as something other than Kovalev’s plaything. Even in the eyes of the strangers at the restaurant, club, or wherever, I would be a woman, a person.

  I started getting ready at around six o’clock. I took extra care shaving my legs and underarms. I had always kept myself well-groomed, Kovalev insisted on it, but for the first time in a long time I enjoyed getting dolled up. I had just slipped into the gorgeous Versace gown when I heard someone knock at the door. I almost skipped to open it. Looming in the doorway was another of the seemingly identical goons that made up the vast majority of my social circle. I didn’t care. I was going to make the best of the night and not let anything take away from my enjoyment. I left the door open while I went back to put on my shoes and then let the hulking brute escort me down the stairs and into Kovalev’s waiting car. He wasn’t there.

  “Boss is busy. He will meet you there,” my escort said in response to my unasked question.

  I felt a little twinge in the pit of my stomach, but immediately dismissed it. Surely, it was too much to expect Kovalev would be an attentive date. I let the door close behind me and leaned back into the soft leather seat. There was a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket as well as a single flute. I took care not to spill any on my dress as the car took off down the street. I stared out the back window and watched the apartment building recede into the distance. It was a beautiful sight.

  Chapter 5 - Jason

  Once outside of the last of the Vegas suburbs, the world changes and you get a quick reminder of just how much empty space there still is out here. I sped along the highway toward Pahrump. Endless low hills and scrubby brush made me feel like I was making no headway despite rolling at eighty miles per hour. Eventually, the signs for the town’s various attractions – casinos, a winery, and the brothels.

  The voice of my navigation cut in over the music, letting me know my turn was coming up. I took a few more turns off the main highway and pulled into the parking lot at Kerri’s. Even though it was mid-afternoon, there were quite a few cars parked. I parked as close to the front entrance as I could get. Even though I wasn’t expecting trouble, I figured it was better to be safe than sorry, and I wanted to be able to get back on the road quickly if something happened.

  I stepped into the building and waited a moment for my eyes to adjust from the searing desert sunlight to the darkness inside. A bell rang somewhere in the back and an elegantly dressed woman in her mid-fifties walked toward me with a smile.

  “Welcome to Kerri’s. Ooh, look at you. They are going to be fighting over you.” She offered me a long piece of paper, like a menu. “The ladies will be out in just a moment. Why don’t you take a look at some of our options?”

  I took the paper absently and was about to say my code phrase, but the madam had already turned away and had begun positioning the women who had filed into the room. They had all shown up so quickly, I hadn’t even noticed them coming in. There were eight of them, all different, all scantily-clad, all fairly attractive. The madam stood to the side, smiling broadly at me. I held up my hand to stop the first woman from introducing herself and crossed over to the madam. Her smile tightened, somewhat, though she did well to hide her unease.

  “This place is like herring in a barrel,” I said softly. I felt foolish saying it, but the older woman’s face immediately settled into a serious, businesslike manner. She snapped her fingers at the line-up and ushered me back to the office as the other women went back down the hallway to wait for the next man through the door. I followed her into the office.

  It struck me as funny that the business office of a brothel should look so ordinary. Aside from a few pictures of smiling, half-naked women – past employees or contractors, I guessed – it was a perfectly normal office with stacks of paper, binders, and clutter overflowing. I glanced at the computer monitor, which showed a complex, multicolored schedule. Off to the side was a bank of monitors with live video feeds of the girls’ rooms. They weren’t out in the open, but these places had some rough characters they kept on call in case a customer decided he wanted to get a little more than he paid for. If you saw one, you were in serious trouble. A girl could hit a button in the room or management could make a call from the scene on the monitor and send in the muscle. I knew a few of them, you meet all sorts in this line of work, and they took their jobs seriously. Not that they didn’t have a good time at it. Nothing was funnier to them than throwing some asshole John out into the parking lot with his erection still swinging.

  “Ok, here you are,” the madam said as she pushed a large, black duffel bag toward me. “Now, I have nothing more to do with it. You accept full responsibility from here on out, right?”

  “Right,” I said, not entirely unsurprised by her caution.

  “There are cameras on the way in and the way out, so you can’t say I didn’t give it to you.”

  “Don’t worry, you’re off the hook.” I took the bag from her and walked out of the office.

  I used my unladen hand to shield my eyes from the late afternoon sunlight. Even so, the ache of my irises squeezing my pupils made me squint hard. I got to my car almost by feel. I hadn’t realized how dark it was in the brothel. The bag landed in the footwell of the passenger seat with a heavy, muffled thunk. I had never thought about how heavy three quarters of a million dollars would be, but it was impressive.

  As my eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, I scanned the parking lot and the surrounding streets. A couple of cars were missing from when I arrived. The place must have a back exit to spare the spent customers from those still seeking their release, and vice versa. Nothing suspicious. I doubted that there was any real danger. It was possible that the courier had told someone where he’d left the money, but even if he had, and they believed him, were they going to stake out the location for this whole time? No sense being careless, though.

  Maybe it was SEAL training, maybe it was my more recent education in the underworld, but I had a constant need to look over my shoulder, to examine every situation for potential threats. Every room I entered, I automatically assessed every person in it, took note of the entrances and exits, sight lines, and potential weapons. Most of the time I was barely conscious of it. But with this much money at my side, I wasn’t taking any chances.

  The westering sun filled my rearview mirror with orange and cast the pale sand and rock ahead of me in the same luminous color. I could see little of what was behind me. That bothered me, so I kept my speed up. A text popped up on my phone. I flicked the button on the car’s touchscreen and the electronic voice read me the address I had been waiting for. I tapped another button and the navigation started, letting me know that I would be staying on the highway for another thirty miles.

  The sun sank further behind me and the landscape darkened from orange to pinkish-red to purple and then finally to utter darkness. My headlights illuminated a little ways in front of me, but that was it. There were no streetlights here. My car was a little island of halogen light in a deep, velvety darkness.

  My mouth stretched open as I could no longer suppress a yawn. I couldn’t wait
to drop this package off and be done with this. I didn’t have anything planned for the next couple of days and was planning to take advantage by getting some sleep. I spent a lot of nights out late and I wasn’t the best at sleeping during the day. Even those blackout curtains didn’t seem to help. Some of my buddies in the SEALs had been able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. I envied them. I could function a long time on minimal sleep, but at some point, I needed to recharge the batteries. This lonely drive through the pitch-black desert was soporific.

  My tired mind started wandering. As it often did, it ended up wandering to her. That girl in the top corner apartment. Kovalev’s girl. Maybe it was because she was a blank slate to me, just a pretty girl I had never spoken to, but I couldn’t help myself from making up stories about her. Who she was, how she got there. She was like some princess in a tower, locked away by an evil king. Except I was one of the guards. Not such a great story, I guess.

  Chapter 6 - Claire

  I tried to keep track of where we were going from the backseat of the limo, but I quickly got lost. We weren’t heading down any of the main roads that I knew, and we weren’t going in the direction of the Strip. It didn’t bother me, though. I drained the last champagne out of my glass. I only allowed myself one glass since I didn’t want to get sloppy on my first night out in forever. Even though my enjoyment of time with Kovalev increased in direct proportion to the amount of alcohol consumed, I wanted my wits about me if I was going to be out in public.

  The limo rolled north as the sun sank behind the mountains to the west. Lights along the roof bathed the interior of the limousine in purple. Soon I realized we had arrived in an industrial part of town, filled with huge warehouses, and almost entirely devoid of people at this hour. I felt my heart start to beat a little faster as I wondered why I would need to be in such an elegant dress out here.