by Zoey Parker
There were so many familiar faces when I walked through the doors, and a few I wasn’t so familiar with. Most of the guys I’d known since I was a stupid thirteen-year-old kid running errands for them. That was how bad I always wanted to be part of them. I was willing to go for coffee and cigarettes, which legally I shouldn’t have been able to buy, but the storekeepers knew who I was with so they let it slide. The smokes weren’t for me. At least not back then they weren’t.
I lit up a cigarette and sat at the bar. Already one or two of the guys were drinking, even though it was only one in the afternoon. I asked Suzie, one of our girls, to brew me some fresh coffee. She looked happy to do it. The girls were usually pretty happy to do what we asked them to do, but I was sort of a hero around the clubhouse after what I did for the club. The asshole who ambushed me had a clear shot on everybody else in the room. We were playing cards at the time. He took a shot at me, and I ducked. He swung around to aim at Spike, the leader at the time. I took him out before he could fire another shot. Everybody else had been either frozen in shock or too drunk to find their gun, much less shoot it.
I saved Spike, and I willingly went to prison for killing a man whose name I didn’t even remember. Funny, so much of my life was affected by that night. But I couldn’t remember the name of the guy I killed. The DA had tried offering me a deal—if I turned on the club and the other clubs in the area, I’d get probation. No way. I took the rap and got out early for good behavior.
There was a weird energy around the clubhouse that afternoon as I sat and waited for my coffee. The lights were turned down dim, so I knew I wasn’t the only one with a hangover. Even so, there wasn’t any bitching or complaining. Normally that was the way it went. A bunch of babies who couldn’t handle the day after a bender.
“What’s up around here today?” I asked Suzie when she came back with the coffee. She only smiled like Mona Lisa. So she was in on it, too. Whatever it was, I was the only person who didn’t know about it. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. I wanted to make an announcement that anybody with half a fucking brain didn’t screw with the guy who just spent seven years in prison.
Just then, the doors to the room where we held our meetings opened. The senior members of the club were all smiles. I hadn’t even known they were in there, and I froze. Why were they looking at me?
“Eric. We were just talking about you.” Spike smiled from ear to ear. He wouldn’t hurt me or fuck with me. He had always been like a father to me, actually. Before I got locked up, he was grooming me to take his place. Why would he hurt me after I gave up so much for the club?
“Really? What about?” I tried to play it cool. Had I slipped up somewhere and said something to the wrong person? I told myself it didn’t matter. I could take them out if they came at me. I wasn’t afraid of any of them. If they wanted to get rid of me, I would take a few guys along with me.
“Not much…prez.” Spike smirked, coming over and clapping a hand on my back. The other men all cheered and clapped.
“Wait…what? Prez?” I looked at Spike, who was still smirking.
“What’d you think? We were gonna wipe you out? For what?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t have that part figured out.” Everybody laughed again.
“We took the vote, brother. You’re in. I can’t ride the way I used to, and we need a leader who can ride. We also need somebody who’s willing to step up when they’re needed. You showed you’re more than capable of that. I wouldn’t want anybody else to head up the club.”
I was speechless for the first time in as long as I could remember. “Spike. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you accept!” I didn’t know who said it, but the rest of the guys agreed.
I shrugged. “Okay. I accept.” They broke out into another round of cheers. Meanwhile, I was totally thrown off. This was the last thing I had expected after being out of the action for so long. I thought I’d have to work my way back up from the bottom. I had been ready to, in fact. I didn’t think it would be this easy. From the happy looks on the faces of my friends, it was. And I was happy, too.
I just would have been happier to have my revenge on Gareth. He was in all my thoughts, good and bad. He was always there, hanging over me like a cloud. I would never be really happy, or feel really in charge of my club, as long as Gareth lived. I had to find him and teach him a lesson. I would also be sending a message that I wasn’t the sort of person to be fucked with.
Suzie and two of the other girls poured shots. We all grabbed one. “To The Lightning Bolts, and to its new president, Eric Turner.” Everybody raised their glass, the girls, too. I looked out over the room and told myself I had a huge responsibility. But I was ready for it, and I downed my shot with a promise to myself that I would settle all scores.
I didn’t have to wait long either. Sometimes opportunity fell into a person’s lap.
My best friend came up beside me and put an arm around my neck. “How’s it feel, prez?”
“You tell me, vice prez.”
He looked shocked. “Me? I thought you’d want Spike or one of the other council members.”
I shook my head. “No way. You’re the only one I want. The only one I trust well enough. You’re like a brother, man. And I’m president, so what I say goes.”
He looked surprised, nervous, happy. I knew how he felt since the same feelings were going through me at that time. “Listen,” he said. “I got some news for you that I thought you might be interested in. it has to do with our good friend.”
I knew just who he meant. That was our code name for Gareth whenever Slash visited me. He would feed me any information I needed, but we never used actual names. I pulled him aside where we could talk a little more privately.
“What’s up?” I searched his face for any clues. I was desperate for more news since everything we heard about Gareth had dried up over time.
“He found a new way to make money on the side.” Slash grinned.
“How? Tell me it’s something illegal.”
“Why would any of us do anything legal?” He snorted.
“What, then?”
“He’s auctioning women.”
That rocked me, and I needed a minute to get my thoughts together. “Auctioning women? Like a slave auction?”
“Not exactly, but pretty fucking close. It’s virgins. Women auction off their virginity to the highest bidder.”
I knew the look on my face had to be priceless, judging from Slash’s laugh. “I know. It’s fucking sick, right?”
“Fucking sick and pathetic. Who does something like that? I mean, paying for a woman? It sounds like something pathetic Gareth might do.”
“Right? He would have to pay for a woman, wouldn’t he?” Slash smirked. Gareth was a pretty ugly dude. Scarred, pockmarked, skinny, greasy. Slash and I, on the other hand, never had trouble getting women.
“So where’s this going on? It can’t be legal, can it?”
Slash shrugged. “I don’t know. It sounds legal enough, unless he’s tricking the women into doing it. I don’t think he is. From what I heard, they go into it knowing what they’re doing. They’re all adults.”
“But it’s prostitution!”
“Auctions like this are held all the time, for charity and stuff.”
“But this isn’t charity!”
“No, but I think Gareth learned a little something from the way those charities work. These guys are only bidding on dates. That’s all. Or that’s the story they tell the police, if the police ever show up.”
I thought it over. “Still sounds sketchy. I think it’s worth checking out. Who knows what else is going on. I wanna get a closer look.”
“He’ll know you’re there.”
“But he doesn’t know I know what he did to me. It’s all right. I just got out—maybe he thinks I want a new experience. I haven’t had a virgin in years.”
“You’d better have some money handy, then.”
“How muc
h are we talking about?”
“Thousands. Tens of thousands.”
“Get the fuck outta here. Who are these people?”
Slash grinned and grabbed another drink off the bar. “The kind of people who can afford to spend thousands on a virgin.”
I drank a beer, thinking about the auction. It was something Gareth would think to do, for sure. An underground auction. How sick was that? Yeah, it would be worth checking out, if only to see something new for once. I’d have a good story to tell the next day at least.
Chapter Four
Michelle
“I hate all of this. Maybe this is all a mistake.”
Mackenzie glared at me from the middle of a pile of clothes on my bed. “Would you stop saying that? You decided to do it, and you’re going to do it.”
“Why is this so important to you?”
“It’s not that it’s important to me that you actually do it. But it’s important that you do what you can to help yourself. I hate seeing you worry about money the way you do. It kills me, and I wish I could give you everything you need. So the least I can do is support you now. And I do! I’m right behind you in this.”
“Good. Somebody has to be, because otherwise I’d back the heck out.” I bit my lip, holding two dresses up side by side. Neither of them seemed right.
“So you said the dress code is pretty sexy, right?” I asked Mac.
“Yeah, that’s what I heard. It makes sense. You want to show them what you’ve got going on.”
“And you say that’s a lot, right?”
Mac rolled her eyes. “Girl, you need to leave that crazy hang-up shit at the door. You know you’re gorgeous. Get over it.”
I wasn’t so sure. Maybe because the boys had always made fun of me in school for being so tall. I was such a nerd, and I got teased for that, too. It wasn’t easy seeing myself as anything other than what others told me that I was at that age. The impressions we got of ourselves in those early days ran deep, and lasted a lifetime in some cases.
“So what’s your top three of these choices?” I asked.
Mac looked critically at what I had laid out. A lot of the dresses hadn’t seen the light of day since college—I hadn’t changed much since then in terms of my body shape, so that was a relief. I didn’t think buying a new dress was exactly the most responsible thing to do, even though Mac swore I’d be pulling in tens of thousands of dollars that night.
“I like the red one, the blue one, and the black one.” She picked them out. All of them were pretty similar. Low-cut, short, tight. I had been going through a phase when I bought them, obviously. I might even have bought them all at the same time. They were classics, though. They hadn’t gone out of style. That was one thing I had been taught—to invest in the classics rather than in trends. Mom was always very frugal.
Now we had debt collectors practically pounding on our front door. Oh, the irony.
“What do you think it will be like?” I asked.
“The auction?”
“That, and…” I trailed off.
Mac’s eyes softened and she sat back down on the bed. “Come here,” she said, clearing a space. I sat beside her. “Just make sure you’re safe, you know? Text me the guy’s name, first and foremost. Ask for ID, even. Don’t let him lie to you. Tell me everything you can about him, and let him know you are. That should help make sure he won’t try anything he’ll regret—or you’ll regret.”
“Right.” I nodded. We had been through that before.
“And of course, make sure he uses a condom.”
“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes.
“Otherwise, you’re not a little girl anymore. It might not even hurt. You’re twenty-six—do you even think your hymen is intact?”
“I know it’s not,” I said, smirking. I might have been a virgin, but I wasn’t a nun.
“So it shouldn’t be all that bad. It might be a little uncomfortable. Just…tell him what you want. Don’t be afraid just because he paid, you know? You’re within your rights to ask him to slow up or take it easy on you. And he should know better than to plow you on the first time out.”
“Jesus, Mac.”
“Well? It’s true. If he starts going too hard and it hurts you, tell him so. If you have to, remind him I know who he is, and I’m a lawyer.”
“You’re not a lawyer.”
“Does he know that?” She grinned, elbowing me playfully. “Try to enjoy it, though. Take it slow, breathe, focus on how you feel. Try not to think about it too much. Just concentrate on how you’re feeling. Who knows? It might be a lot more fun than you’d imagine.”
“I doubt it.” I was dreading what was about to happen more than I could explain. I would be handing over my virginity to a total stranger in a matter of hours. It was chilling, almost. The way I was walking it to as though I had no choice. There was no joy in it, no willingness. Nothing but dread.
I had to do it. Mom needed the money. Just the thought of her in the room next door to mine reminded me of how much was riding on what I did that night.
“And you’ll look in on her?”
“Babe, I’ll be here all night. All weekend, if you need me to be.” She winked. “How many times have I slept in this room? I mean, come on.”
“I know. I was thinking the same thing.” I got up, stretching, shaking my hands. Trying to get rid of my nerves. “How many nights did we spend in this room dreaming of marrying the guys from N*Sync? And now here we are. It’s nerve-wracking.”
“Just think. You’re better off than most girls. Most girls don’t get anything but a clumsy thanks or ‘did you like that?’ after their first time. I know I wondered what the hell the big deal was all about since I hardly felt anything. You’re lucky. At least you’ll be with a real man, and probably one with some money and experience.”
“Are you saying you envy me?” I asked, grinning in the mirror as I did my makeup.
“Not exactly. But it might have been nice to be with somebody who knew what the hell they were doing. Maybe I do envy you in a way—you waited.”
I put down the makeup and turned to her. “You? Envy me? I’ve always been the one who envies you!”
“Why?” She looked genuinely surprised, which blew my mind.
“Because you’ve always been the one with boyfriends, or guys you were seeing, or even random hookups. I wondered what was wrong with me that I couldn’t be like you were. I always wanted to be. I wished guys would think I was hot, the way they always saw you.”
“Meanwhile, so much of it was totally soulless. I wish I could do it over again,” she said. “After a while, it’s just sex for the sake of sex. I get it now when people say the first time should be meaningful.”
My gaze dropped and I stared at the carpet. Mac understood her mistake and jumped off the bed.
“I didn’t mean it’s wrong that yours isn’t! Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry. What a stupid thing to say.” She threw her arms around me and hugged tightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “This is meaningful. There might not be romance, but there will be what I need. The money. That’s all there is to it. Seeing my mom taken care of is all I need.” With heightened resolve, I turned to the mirror and continued with my makeup. Mackenzie wisely let the subject drop.
###
Two hours later, I stood backstage at the auction. I couldn’t believe I’d gotten as far as I had—I’d only wanted to turn around and go home a half dozen times during the ten-minute drive to the warehouse.
From the outside, it didn’t look like much. One of the dozens of warehouses along the city’s mostly abandoned port. I had balked at the idea of going inside, wondering if Mac’s contact had given her the wrong address by mistake. She’d assured me it was all right when I called to ask her.
“Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine. He said they keep it in an out-of-the-way place to keep the cops away. But that’s it, the warehouse. Don’t forget to text me.”
>
I’d promised I would, and stepped inside. She had been right. It was like night and day, the difference between what was outside and what hid behind the old rusty door. The interior might have been an art gallery, it was so clean and classy. Like one of the old converted factories and lofts in the city’s newly gentrified sections. Whoever put the auction together knew what he was doing. He’d put money into making it look as legit as possible.
It was because he was catering to a high-end clientele, I realized. There were some pretty fancy cars parked outside. Who were these men that they were aware of an underground auction such as this? I had assumed men like that were above skeevy activities like this. I figured I had a lot to learn.
