THE DEVIL’S BABY

by Naomi West

  Ten minutes later, the Warhawks were on the move. I drove at the front of the pack, the boys behind me following close. Riding like this was what it was all about—just me, the wind, and my boys at my back.

  But as I rode, the girl from the diner kept popping into my head.

  Goddamn, I thought, my eyes straight ahead on the road. Why can’t I shake this fucking girl?

  I mean, I’d been busy, so it’d been a solid week since I last fucked, but that couldn’t explain why this girl kept popping into my head. It was the same image, too: the girl sitting there in the both, her arms wrapped around her stomach, her sexy eyes scanning the place before making contact with mine. Something about her made me want to just grab her, throw her over my shoulder, and claim her right then and there. And there was more to it, like I could sense that the girl was lost in the world and needed someone to watch out for her.

  I shook these thoughts from my mind. Women were for one thing, I reminded myself, and once they started trying to get more from you then it was time to move on. Letting some girl with big Disney eyes distract you from your mission was chump move number one.

  A little while later, the boys and I arrived at the big warehouse outside of Orlando where the auction was being held this year. Dozens, if not a hundred or more bikes were parked outside of the place, the endless stretch of chrome catching the moonlight above. Rock music thumped through the ground, signaling that the party was on. I pointed the boys to an open patch of land and we all parked. Soon after we were heading through the main doors of the warehouse, ready for a hell of a night.

  We strolled into the warehouse like kings. A party was already well underway, and it was the rager to end all ragers. Beer flowed, girls danced on poles, and a band was banging out thrashing rock music.

  It was my kind of scene.

  After grabbed a beer—that most important first step in any party—I made my way around the place, my boys following me in a tight knot. The lesser Florida MCs recognized us right away and spread out of our way as we made a long loop around the place. I couldn’t help but laugh as I noticed the fights already breaking out; some boys just couldn’t handle their liquor.

  Although I fucking hated to admit it, networking was essential at get-togethers like this. The auctions weren’t just about buying pussy—they were about seeing faces that you’d lost track of, making deals, and forging alliances. And through the crowd, I spotted the man that I knew I needed to see, the man whose arms merchandise had resulted in the booming year that the Warhawks had enjoyed.

  “Dakin!” I shouted, my voice cutting through the crowd.

  Dakin looked up from the girl he was laying game down on. He scanned the nearby crowd with hawk-like eyes, as though unsure if he was being called by a friendly face or someone announcing just who they were about to kill. A little paranoid, but when you were in the weapons game, you couldn’t be too careful.

  He spotted me among the crowd and knew right away it was me calling him. His hostile expression softened and changed into a friendlier one, though I had to admit with that mane of hair and wild beard, it was sometimes hard to tell.

  “There’s the fuckin’ man of the hour!” he shouted, striding through the crowd and locking me in a quick, back-slapping hug. “You ready for the primo pussy?”

  “After you blew me out last year?” I asked, a smile on my face. “You better fuckin’ believe. No way I’m gonna let you steal the best ass from under me.”

  “We’ll see about that,” he said, slapping me on the shoulder one more time.

  Dakin had been a stand-up guy so far, but something about him just put me on edge. In my dealings with him he’d shown himself to be a shrewd businessman with a calculating mind. Ruthless as hell, too—once I’d seen him put a round right through the forehead of some chump who tried to shaft him out of a few thousand during a gun-running deal. One minute, Dakin was counting the cash, the next second a bang sounded out and Dakin was standing over the buyer’s corpse, his pistol smoking in his hand. No two thoughts about it. I knew right then and there that he wasn’t the type to fuck with. I mean, you didn’t get far in this business without being cold, but Dakin struck me as the kind of guy who’d slit his momma’s throat for a nickel.

  But business with him had been good so far. For the time being, I was on his good side. And I aimed to keep it that way until our dealings were done.

  “How you been?” I asked.

  “Not bad,” he said. “Just bought some new property outside of Gainesville; perfect little spot out in the middle of nowhere; thinking of using it for business. Maybe some partying here and there.”

  “Nice,” I said.

  “Got it for real cheap,” said one of Dakin’s goons, some ugly sonofabitch with a bald head and a crisscross of scars on his cheek.

  “Yeah?” I asked.

  Like I said, I’d been getting into some legitimate ventures here and there, and real estate was one place where it was hard to go wrong. Like they say: God ain’t making any more land.

  “Yup,” said Dakin. “Some chick’s grandma died and let her mortgage go to shit. Picked it right up for dirt cheap.”

  I raised my eyebrows and nodded. Maybe not my preferred way of doing things, but I had to respect the hustle. Just like I said, Dakin was a cold, analytical businessman through and through. If he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth he’d probably have been taking over New York—same attitude, just a different outfit, if you know what I mean.

  The band finished their song with a banging chord and announced that the bidding was going to start in an hour.

  “You ready for this shit, my man?” asked Dakin.

  “Born ready,” I said.

  He shoved a shot of whiskey in my hand and we downed them.

  I had a really fucking good feeling about tonight.

  Chapter Four

  Star

  “Just a little … there. Perfect.”

  The girl who’d been hard at work on my face for the last half hour was done. Finally. She stepped away from me, looking back at me as though she’d just taken the final chip out of a block of marble she’d been carving.

  “Well, little lady,” she said, clearly proud of her work. “Whaddya think?”

  Truth be told, I didn’t know what to think. Looking at my reflection in the well-lit vanity, I looked like a different person. My eyes were outlined in thick black that made my greens pop out, my already fair skin had been slathered in foundation that gave my complexion the tone of fresh cream, and a healthy dusting of blush made me look I’d just been walked in on naked and I was mortified from embarrassment. My lips were blood red and glistening, like I’d just drunk a big glass of blood. I wasn’t much of a make-up girl to begin with—Grandma Dove wasn’t too keen on those sorts of things—so the change was even more drastic.

  “I mean, it looks nice,” I said, not knowing what to say, really just happy that the gag in my mouth had been removed and I could talk and breathe halfway normally.

  “You hate it,” she said, stomping her foot a little.

  Lady, I thought, I’m being dolled up to be sold and you’re the one throwing a fit?

  “No,” I said, feeling some bizarre compulsion to make this girl feel better for some reason. “It looks great!”

  “You really think so?” she asked, her tone softening.

  “I look like a celebrity or something. Like I should be on the cover of Vogue.”

  “Now you’re just being nice,” said the girl.

  Geez, I thought. What the hell does she want from me?

  “It’s the best makeup job I’ve ever had,” I said.

  I wasn’t lying. I mean, I could count on one hand the amount of times I’d had another girl put makeup on my face.

  “Aw, thank you, sweetie,” she said.

  I looked around the room at the other two dozen or so women in the place. After I’d been thrown in my cell, another ten or so girls had been brought in, all terrified beyond belief. The
middle-aged woman and her gaggle of young women companions came in soon after, letting us know what was going on.

  “You’re all here to be sold,” the middle-aged woman had said, her blunt words sending up a wave of muffled wails from the caged girls. “Just square yourself with that right now. You’re all young and pretty and gonna fetch us a nice little pile of cash.”

  The middle-aged woman’s girls went from girl to girl, snatching off their gags. Guess they figured there was no point in keeping them on any longer; they’d got all the girls they were gonna bring in and now it was time for whatever was next.

  “If you’re lucky, the man who buys you will take good care of you … if you take good care of him. Make no mistake—you’re being sold as a pet. Your life from here on out will be in the sexual service of your buyer. You’re to do his bidding, to please him when he wants to be pleased, and to keep him happy to the best of your abilities. And if you have no abilities … well, you’ll just have to learn.”

  I looked around at the other girls, seeing that all of them were shocked by this revelation. I was going to be a sex pet? This had to be a joke, like some kind of prank. But as I wrapped my fingers around the cold steel bars of my little cage, I realized that there was nothing funny or fake about any of this.

  “We’re gonna get you all looking good and sexy. We’re gonna put all your assets on display. And when you’re up on that stage, you’re all gonna show off what you got and make those men want to spend top dollar for those little asses of yours. Any of you get any big ideas about not playing along, well, just keep in mind that girls who get too smart for their own good don’t meet with happy endings.”

  I swallowed hard. She had just threatened our lives. How could this get any worse?

  I had my question answered when the middle-aged woman said the last word that I wanted to hear at that moment.

  “Now strip!”

  We all complied, most of us already broken by our hours in captivity. Part of me wanted to protest, to tell them that there was no goddamn way I was going to go along with this insanity. But I knew I had no options; the woman’s threat had done its job. Slowly, I took off my clothing until I was wearing nothing but my white cotton panties and cheap bra. Looking around, I saw that the rest of the girls were in the same state of undress.

  “And the rest!”

  I took a deep breath before reaching behind my back and undoing my bra. After that, I stepped out of my panties and was totally nude. I covered myself with my hands as best I could, but it was no use: my whole body was on display.

  “Hands at your sides!”

  We did as the woman asked. The girls that’d been assigned to us stayed at our sides, making sure that we didn’t get up to any funny business. Looking down the line of naked girls, I watched as the middle-aged woman went from girl to girl, staring her up and down as if inspecting for any flaws. Once she was satisfied, she moved to the next girl. Eventually, she came to me. She scoured my body from forehead to toes.

  “Now turn,” she said.

  I did. The air of the place was cool and dry, and against my wishes, my nipples hardened.

  “I think she’s excited to be here,” said the girl standing nearby, a smirk appearing on her face.

  “Whoever buys her really going to be the one who’s excited,” said the middle-aged woman. “She’s just about flawless. Maybe the catch of the night. Let’s save her for the grand finale. Make her look really good.”

  The girl nodded and turned her attention back to me.

  The next few minutes after that were a crazy whirlwind of activity. The girls brought us out of our cages and seated us all in front of the vanities. I looked around at the girls who’d been taken prisoners like me and saw that they were all about my age. All just like me, frightened girls who hadn’t seen much of the real world. I wondered how long they’d had their eye on me. Had I been stalked for days, or even weeks, before they finally picked me up? Or had I just been in the worst place at the worst time?

  I shook my head and came back to the present moment.

  “Okay,” said the girl. “Now it’s time to get you all dressed up.”

  The doors to the room opened and several girls entered, all pushing in row after row of clothing and shoes. Once a rack came to a stop nearby, the girl assigned to me ran over and started rifling through it, grabbing what she could among the flurry of hands from the other women, all of them interested in getting the best outfits for the girls they’d been assigned.

  After a moment, the girl came back to me, some clothes and shoes in her hands and a big smile on her face.

  “I found the perfect look,” she said, bubbling over with excitement as though we were girls having a slumber party.

  Standing in front of me, she held up what she’d picked out. It was a skimpy white teddy, very lacy, and with the sides exposed. Light blue bows adorned it. In her other hand were a pair of white heels, the same color as the lingerie.

  “Put it on!” she said, shoving the clothes into my hands and stepping back.

  I did what she asked, and minutes later I was dressed. If you could call it that. The teddy was skintight on my body and left very little to the imagination. My breasts looked like they were going to burst out of the thing at any moment. The heels hurt my feet, and I felt as awkward as a baby deer taking its first steps.

  “You look so fucking hot,” said the girl. “You’re gonna sell for, like, a million dollars.”

  Between the awkwardness and the circumstances, “sexy” was the last thing I felt. Looking in the mirror, it felt like I was looking at a different person. But before I had too much time to consider the matter, the middle-aged woman took her place in front of all of us, her presence commanding our attention. I threw a glance down both sides of the lines of girls, noting that they were all done up with heavy makeup and lingerie, just like me.

  “Time for your big moment, ladies!” shouted the woman. “Keep things in an orderly line and only speak when you have been spoken to. Punishments for stepping out of line will be swift and severe. Am I understood?”

  No one said a word, and I could tell by the woman’s smile that this was exactly what she wanted.

  “Then let’s do this!”

  The back doors of the room opened and the girls led the line of young women out one by one. Soon, I passed over the threshold into the dark, low-lit hallway. Through the walls, I could hear the bass of banging rock music and I wondered just what kind of party this was. Who were these men that stole women off the streets and bought them as though we weren’t even real people?

  As I walked slowly down the hallway, I realized that I’d soon find out.

  Chapter Five

  Tank

  “All right, boys!” shouted out the lead singer of the band, a gnarly-looking dude with a face covered in tattoos. “It’s the time of the night we’ve all been fuckin’ waiting for!”

  A loud roar came up from the men in attendance, the sound deafening. The boys here were all full of booze, piss, and vinegar, and we were ready to bid on some pussy.

  “Then let’s fuckin’ do this!”

  We all packed close to the stage, the smell of sweat, booze, and cigarettes rushing to my nose. The lights of the back of the room dimmed, and spotlights shone on the stage. The stage was done up like a burlesque kind of thing, with red and black curtains. The girls who ran the auction behind the scenes loved doing this kind of shit, and it showed. Some of the girls were even women who’d been bid on and cast aside when their owners got bored of them. I guess once they got a taste of the skin game, they couldn’t leave it behind.

  The band started into a chugging, raunchy tune, the lead singer grabbing the mike and walking to the middle of the stage.

  “One more time, boys—you fuckin’ ready for this?” he yelled, raising his hands in the air.

  Another roar sounded up from the crowd. We were good and ready.

  My boys were at my side, and I flashed a quick glance at Dakin. He gave
me a nod, a smirk on his face. I could tell he was ready for a bidding war.

  “Send out the first piece of ass!”

  The band played, and the spotlight fell on the side. After a moment, a skinny girl with red hair and a frightened look on her face walked onto the stage with hesitating steps. She was dressed in a green bra and panty set that looked nice against her skin. But she was all bones—I need a little meat on my girls. Not to mention a little more energy

  “Let’s give a fuckin’ hand for Melody!” shouted the lead singer.