Auctioned

by Cara Dee

  Whoa. “Really?” That surprised Gray. “But they’re armed. They can defend themselves.”

  Jonas lifted a shoulder. “Sometimes there’s a gun pointed at someone they love, but for the most part, they owe the wrong people money. One way or another, there’s a debt to pay off. It keeps them loyal.”

  Gray bit on a cuticle, wondering if this was gonna change things for Darius, who was always looking for weak links to expose. But trusting a guard…? Fuck, Gray couldn’t imagine it. And they sure as hell didn’t have the time to convince one of those dudes that everything would be fine if he helped them escape. Nor did Gray want to. He didn’t fucking care if a guard was here because he was forced. No one forced the guards to rape and murder for kicks.

  “This is a big crime organization, Gray. In the year I’ve been stuck here, I haven’t seen a single slave make it out alive.”

  It put a rock in Gray’s stomach, and for the first time, he wondered if they could ever be free. Even if they managed to escape, couldn’t someone find them again? Holy shit, what if they went after parents and siblings?

  “How did you get involved?” He pushed the words out before he went into a panic. He had a job to do, and Darius was counting on him. “You mentioned something about a job.”

  “I was already on the streets.” Jonas seemed more casual now than before, the opposite of what Gray felt. “A buddy told me about some gig in Miami—this was back in Philly. But I had to go to them directly. I had to talk to someone in Texas. So that’s where I went.”

  “Texas?”

  Jonas nodded, reaching for a chocolate bar. “Human trafficking capital of the US. Dallas and Houston are fucking nuts. Tens of thousands of people come through there every year. It’s a billion-dollar industry, and no one misses those girls. Who cares about a foreign girl? Nobody. Domestic ones get picked up when they’re already trash. Runaways, prostitutes, users, you name it. Some dudes too, but…” He shrugged. “Anyway. I went down there and asked around until I found the right place. They were smart about it too,” he told Gray. “They don’t set off any warning bells by promising a bunch of shit. It was supposed to be quick cash for a temporary gig, and they needed a lot of guys. I knew before I got there that I’d probably be sharing a room with like, four other dudes. But it was work, and at the end of the summer, I was supposed to have enough to start a life for my brother and me.”

  Gray couldn’t imagine. To walk into the trap like that, to realize you’d been set up, and then discovering there was no getting out. And Jonas had a kid brother somewhere who was on his own…? Jesus Christ.

  “It was all right until we arrived in Miami,” Jonas went on. “We’d had work training and knew our job was to look good in front of rich fuckers. And since then…I mean, since the first event took place out at sea, everything’s been different.”

  “Have you tried to escape?” Gray asked quietly.

  Jonas nodded jerkily, looking like he was struggling to stay calm. “Once. They managed to keep me in my place for a few months. I’ve thought about escaping every time we go back to Miami, but they said they were gonna kill my brother. So I didn’t put up a fight for a while, and I was too scared. They—they did stuff to us, and I don’t have to explain that to you. You already know.”

  Yeah, Gray knew.

  “They keep us in an old motel outside the city,” Jonas said. “The staff, I mean. They own the property, and we’re never alone. Plus, we got these.” He brushed his fingers over the back of his neck, and Gray instantly understood Jonas had been chipped like Charlie. “Anyway, I did try to run once, ’cause they made a mistake. I punched a guard, and I received the regular threats. They were gonna kill my brother and slit my throat and all that, but they also said they were watching my family. My whole family. And I don’t have one. My folks are dead. So I thought I’d try to run the next time we docked, because it’s closer to civilization, and I just needed to find a place to lay low long enough to remove the tracking device.”

  Gray caught himself right before he could ask if it worked. He was on pins and needles, his body tense, and he felt dumb as shit when he checked himself. Fucking obviously, it hadn’t worked. Christ. The dude was here now, after all. But dammit, he needed some good news.

  “I didn’t get fifty feet before they were all over me.” Jonas let out a shaky laugh, the pain growing tenfold in his expressive eyes. “I’d never felt as alone as I did that night. Not a single fucking person heard me scream.” There was another chuckle, but Gray saw everything fall apart before it actually did. Jonas’s shoulders shook, and then he covered his face with his hands and tried to hold back his sob. “I shouldn’t have tried to escape.”

  Gray cursed under his breath and pushed away the food between them. Then he moved closer and cautiously put a hand on Jonas’s shoulder. He went still for a second, an automatic response Gray had come to understand painfully well.

  “Ask me the next question,” Jonas croaked into his hands. “I don’t wanna think about this anymore.”

  “All right. Um.” Gray’s hands fell to his lap, and he fidgeted with his fingers while he scrambled for the questions Darius wanted answered. “How many auctions have you been to?”

  “Just auctions, or parties too?”

  Gray didn’t understand the question.

  Jonas sniffled and wiped his face. “Parties are more common. Disgusting men bring their whores and slaves. Basically, it’s a four-day-long play party, but instead of buying a slave, you bring one.”

  “Oh.” Just when Gray thought the world couldn’t get any uglier… “Both, I guess.”

  “There’s something happening every month.” Jonas cleared his throat and stared at his lap. “Parties usually have themes, and it’s for…I don’t know, I mean, they’re still rich as fuck, but not as loaded as the men who attend auctions. Parties come with drugs, loud music, and business. They trade prostitutes, gamble, and network. There’s a big drug trade, and a lot of guests come up from South America.”

  “Jesus.” Gray rubbed his mouth absently, thinking how this whole clusterfuck just kept growing like a goddamn cancer.

  “The auctions are more rare, especially one like this.” Jonas gave the cabin a glance. “Last one was a couple months ago. Fourteen girls from Guatemala were sold to some creeps from Europe.”

  Gray didn’t wanna hear another word. This organization operated all over the world, and the mere knowledge of it was throwing a dark shadow across everything he’d once found beautiful or appealing. What kid didn’t dream about backpacking through Europe? If he went now, he’d wonder what restaurants, what hotels, and what checkpoints were used in trafficking networks.

  Hell, he’d spent months in and out of trucks, riding on the same highways as anyone who was on their way to work. The entire goddamn world was nothing but a system of smuggling routes.

  “What, uh…” Gray scrubbed at his mouth and jaw, disgusted. But he had to move on. “What about this fleet of luxury boats? Are there a lot of them? Do you happen to know if we’re in a heavily trafficked area?”

  “I think…hmm. I think there are four yachts in total. They’re not registered in Florida. They come here from Texas. At least, that’s what I’ve overheard.” Jonas paused. “There’s another auction taking place somewhere around here now too. With the same theme, I mean. Gay guys. But otherwise, I haven’t heard of two boats being out here at the same time.”

  That could be a good thing. Right? They weren’t gonna want a bunch of boats nearby when they attempted to take control of this one tomorrow. Well, not boats that belonged to this vile organization.

  He opened his mouth to ask the next question but promptly shut it again when he heard someone unlocking the door. Darius appeared, visibly tired, and closed the door behind him.

  “Boys.” He nodded with a dip of his chin.

  “Hey.” Gray took a deep breath, relieved to see him. “How did it go?” He noticed Jonas had become a lot more guarded.

  Darius wa
s noticing it too, and maybe that was why he made an effort to be as casual as possible. Although, Gray could see everything wasn’t awesome. The pinch between Darius’s brows was telling.

  “Good news and bad,” he admitted. He avoided that side of the bed, perhaps to give Jonas some space, and chose to sit down at the desk instead. “Bad news first. Three guards who’re supposed to work tomorrow are already ill. I thought it was gonna be another few hours.” He opened a window and dug out his cigarettes. “Unless my calculations are wrong again, the drugs will wear off too early, around noon instead of three or four.” He rubbed his forefinger and middle finger along his eyebrows and grimaced. “Maybe if we start earlier too…”

  “Do I even wanna know what was in that powder?” Jonas mumbled to Gray.

  Gray’s stomach was a mess of nerves, but for this, there was an ounce of humor to be spared. “I only know he crushed laxatives into the mix.”

  “You never know when an illness can come in handy,” Darius had explained when he’d made the concoction. “There’s a reason we use it as our most common excuse to get out of things.”

  Darius had brought it with him for the purpose of having an excuse in case Gray was too traumatized to play a part in their cover. The man really did try to think of everything.

  “Okay, so what does this mean for the escape?” Jonas asked hesitantly. “Will it be harder to get away?”

  Oh boy. He didn’t know yet that they weren’t running anywhere. Gray wet his lips and flicked his gaze to Darius.

  He took a deep drag from his cigarette and exhaled the smoke toward the window. “No time to beat around the bush. We’re not going anywhere, Jonas. We’re going to take control of the yacht.”

  Ugh, it sounded fucking impossible when he said it out loud.

  Jonas gaped at them both. “Are you two out of your fucking minds?”

  “The good news better be really good,” Gray told Darius.

  His mouth twitched. “It is. I got the code to the pilothouse where the surveillance can be shut off.”

  Okay, that was…something, at least.

  Thirteen

  Despite having not gone to bed until after four in the morning, Gray woke up around seven.

  He’d shared a bed with Darius for…three nights now. Yet, this felt like the first time. The stateroom’s temperature was cool, almost a little chilly, and Gray pulled the duvet higher and shifted a bit closer to Darius. The man slept on his back, one hand under his head, the other resting on his stomach. The sun had reached his torso. Perhaps that was why he wasn’t cold.

  Darius’s hair and scruff glinted in the morning light, and he was so fucking gorgeous. He looked more peaceful than Gray had ever seen, that was for sure.

  It was such a different sight from last night. Or earlier this morning, technically. They’d showered after Jonas had been taken back to his quarters, and Darius had been all but dead on his feet coming out of the bathroom. And still, they’d stayed up and talked for-freaking-ever.

  Today was going to be insane, and Gray didn’t dare think that he might be free—actually free, in every sense—before the day was over. It was scary as hell, but he was ready to fight. So was Jonas.

  “Darius,” Gray whispered. “Darius, are you awake?”

  He grunted sleepily and rolled onto his side. “No, Darius is asleep.” He surprised Gray by pulling him flush against his body and drawing the covers over them.

  Gray’s breath hitched at the sudden onslaught of joy. Temporary as it was, he hadn’t felt anything remotely close to happiness in months, but this did it. He was wrapped up in solid warmth that made him feel safe and protected.

  “You realize we’re cuddling, right?” Gray smiled to himself and scratched lightly at Darius’s chest.

  “Mm. Big fan.” He hummed and ducked his head to burrow his face into the crook of Gray’s neck. And that felt…even better. The soft rasp of his whiskers, the warmth of his lips. “Get some sleep, knucklehead.”

  “Uh, right…” Gray chuckled breathily and slipped one leg between Darius’s. He cursed their underwear to the fiery pits of hell, too. “Kinda difficult to sleep when I’m in the arms of a man who’s criminally fucking gorgeous.”

  Darius grew still, though he didn’t tense up. If anything, the atmosphere was heavy with contentment. Next, he released a sigh and gave Gray’s ear a little bite.

  “I gotta admit something,” he murmured drowsily. “You say shit I’ve never heard before.”

  “What do you mean?” Gray inched away and smiled curiously. “You can’t tell me no one’s told you you’re hotter than sin before.”

  “Not the way you do it,” he chuckled. “I didn’t think last night was going to—fuck, now what?” Their conversation ended abruptly with the phone ringing.

  Gray flipped onto his back and scowled at the ceiling while Darius rolled away to get the phone. He hadn’t thought last night was going to what? Gray was gonna stew over this, he could feel it. Just like he did with all men he couldn’t place into neat little categories. Oh God, maybe it was a self-destructive behavior. Did he attract the wrong men? Did he get attracted to the wrong men? History would indicate that. One man in denial, a couple closet cases, one who’d had more issues with his sexuality than Gray could handle.

  And how does any of this matter now?

  “What do you mean?” Darius spoke into the receiver and felt the need to get out of bed. “Is it contagious?”

  Gray switched gears and sat up too. No, his stupid history with men meant absolutely fuck-all. There was a good chance he’d never have such a trivial problem again, so why bother thinking about it. Instead, he focused on Darius and the dreaded day they had ahead of them. Whoever was on the phone must’ve called because of the men getting sick.

  “I see.” Darius’s expression turned grim, and he snapped his fingers and nodded for Gray to get up. “That’s good. You can set an extra plate at breakfast for me.” He wrapped up the call, and Gray stood on the other side of the bed, doing his best not to let the nerves get the best of him. “They’re cutting the trip short because they can’t be certain it’s not food poisoning, so this is it. We gotta do this now.”

  “Oh God, we’re gonna die.” Gray clutched his stomach and felt his pulse skyrocketing. They weren’t ready, they weren’t ready. They hadn’t gotten any chance to prepare Cole yet, and Jonas was still unarmed. They were supposed to have another few hours to work with!

  “We are?” Darius stepped into a new pair of dress pants and lifted a brow at Gray.

  “Well, maybe.”

  Darius snorted and got busy; the man could go from zero to sixty like a high-end sports car, not to mention how well he could multitask. While he buttoned up a crisp shirt, he also went over his notes that were spread out on the desk.

  “You’re ready for this, knucklehead.” He didn’t give Gray any room to argue. “Only two things will change, the time we begin and…this.” He opened a briefcase, the one with a decreasing number of drugs. “It’s human nature to be more alert and irritable when something’s about to change, and today is the last day of vacation for these men. They have their journeys home on their minds, and this is both good and bad. Good because they’re easily distracted, bad because they become harder to entertain.” He pointed at Gray. “I need you to be the comic relief who lowers the pressure.”

  It dawned on Gray what this meant, and he nodded hesitantly. “You want me to act like I’m high as a kite.”

  “Yes. When we get upstairs for breakfast, I’m going to inject you with a placebo.” Darius reached for the tie hanging over the desk chair. “It’s important you know how heroin hits you. Have you ever taken opioids?”

  Whoa, what the fuck? Gray folded his arms and grew defensive. “What do you take me for? I don’t do drugs.”

  Darius didn’t try to hide his amusement, though he stayed busy. “You’re a hockey player, though. You get hurt all the time, and opioids are common in pain meds. I’m sure you’re no str
anger to Vicodin or oxycodone.”

  Oh. Well, no. Maybe he’d been on Vicodin once, after the time he got injured playing field hockey.

  “Fine. I was prescribed Vicodin for a few days when I was seventeen. What about it?” Gray tried to unclench and ease the tension in his shoulders.

  “I want you to remember the feeling it gave you.” Darius paused what he was doing and gave Gray his full attention. “The pain fading, a calm washing over you. You probably felt sluggish. Maybe you laughed at nothing. Now, magnify that. Heroin takes hold quickly.” He rounded the bed and grasped Gray by the shoulders, leveling him with a serious look. “You can’t stop acting on this one, Gray. You have to keep pretending, no matter what you see and hear.” He tapped Gray’s temple. “It takes about thirty seconds for the drug to reach your brain stem, and once you’re there, you gotta think about everything you do. Slow it all down. Your reactions—everything.”

  Gray blew out a breath and scrubbed at his face. You can do this. You can pretend. He did remember that time when he was seventeen, hazy as the memories were. He remembered his brothers having fun at his expense. He remembered the cotton mouth, the drowsiness, and the lazy grins.

  “I nodded off and found random stuff funny when I was on those pain meds,” he admitted.

  Darius nodded. “Use that. Especially the nodding off. You’ll be distracted by the euphoria in your body and weird thoughts.”

  Weird thoughts… Right. Gray raked his teeth over his bottom lip and nodded slowly. He would do his damnedest to pretend he wasn’t bothered by the monsters he shared a table with. He’d slow down his reactions and drift off.

  “Think you can sell it?” Darius tipped his head to hold Gray’s gaze. “Think of it as a way to attract these men to watch you in the dungeon. The more you hold their attention, the likelier they are to show up for your punishment.”