Unfold Me

My heart skips a beat when I step into a big room enveloped in darkness. It’s not the first time I’m here, but it’s the first time I’m about to participate. My high heels click against the marble floor as I make my way to an empty seat. The dark shades covering my eyes make it even harder to see what’s in front of me, but I’ll be damned if I let anyone in here identify me so easily.

Besides, pretty much everyone is hiding their faces, and one of the people is even wearing a purple mask with black swirls on it. No one wants the world to know their dirty little secret: that they’re willing to buy another human being for their own pleasure, whether their purchase wants it or not. There are maybe twenty or so chairs in front of a big stage that reminds me of a theatre, and only five are empty, so I settle myself in one at the back, to the left, and farthest from the others.

I scan the room for any familiar faces... well, only one familiar face, but he isn’t here. I don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. But today I’m on a very special mission, and I can’t lose my focus. My mind definitely shouldn’t be wandering to the man who stole three months of my life. Still, I can’t help but wonder if he’s coming. He loves auctions and he’s always on the lookout for a new slave that he could train and resell later, and a part of me would love to mess up his plans and make sure he doesn’t get to ruin another life.

I’ve thought about buying one of the slaves countless times, but every time I ended up sitting quietly in the corner and seething in anger because of what was happening and because there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. And even if I wanted to save one person from the hell of being a sex slave, who says I wouldn’t end up buying someone who was into the whole master-slave thing? Some people want it to be real—no safewords, agreements, nothing.

I’m sure such a person would tattle on me the moment I set them free, which would certainly get me banned from coming here, although they do get a nice amount of money just for allowing me in. Every time I try to come up with a way to bring this whole operation down, I have no options, because there isn’t anything that wouldn’t violate my deal with my ex-captor.

The spotlight on the stage comes to life, drawing everyone’s attention to the masked man dressed in leather and holding a tablet, a whip attached to his belt. I take a deep breath and steel myself for what is about to come, but my fingers are still shaking and I have to curl them into fists. I can feel the eyes of the man to my right on me like a heavy weight, and I quickly glance in his direction. He doesn’t look familiar, but I can’t see his face clearly anyway.

First time, huh? he whispers, leaning toward me, his lips quirking up.

I scoot away as far as I can from him, my eyebrows shooting up, until he presses his lips together and moves back. The tension leaves my shoulders a little when the auctioneer greets the room. I barely register his introduction because I’ve heard it so many times before. A blonde who is completely naked except for a spiky collar around her neck strolls onto the stage, two masked men trailing behind her. 

Her face is perfectly calm, her eyes unreadable, as the auctioneer pushes her at the center of the stage so the spotlight is right on her. One man immediately raises his hand to bid as the auctioneer starts to enumerate the woman’s qualities as he gropes her breasts. The first thing that comes to my mind as I look at the woman is that she’s not Archer’s type. He likes his women with green eyes, long black hair that he can tug on and run his fingers through, and with nice curves—women like me. The girl on the stage is definitely too thin and too meek for him.

The next one to come onto the stage is a dark-haired guy, but he doesn’t have any tattoos that would indicate he’s the one I’m here for. The wide smile on his face as he steps under the spotlight makes me think he’s probably as high as a kite or he knows that if he doesn’t do as told, his loved ones will pay for it.

As the bidding continues, I sigh. What if I was wrong and the man I’m looking for won’t be here? But I’m sure there haven’t been any more auctions; my source would’ve known about it. What if his owner has changed his mind about selling him? I hope not, because this slave is the key to bringing down at least one of the most important human trafficking assholes in this city, and my friend Lilith wouldn’t be pleased to hear her mission has failed and that she’s risked her life for nothing.

I grit my teeth. No, he has to be here. I blink back to reality as I hear commotion on the stage. The guards are dragging a man with them, tightly gripping his arms, but he’s still trying to kick at them. The guy is tall, with short, messy black hair and blue eyes, and I glimpse the familiar tattoo low on his hip: a mark of his owner, Raphael. My throat goes dry, my chest constricting. That’s him! That’s Isaac.

Fuck you! Isaac yells as he is shoved onto his knees in the center of the stage. Now that he’s closer, I can see there’s blood seeping from the corner of his lips. His whole body is marred with bruises and bloody cuts and scratches.

Shut up, slave! The auctioneer’s eyes are hard as he hits Isaac with the back of his hand. This one is being sold by his owner. As you can see, it needs a serious attitude adjustment... unless this is your thing. He laughs. Maybe Mr. Archer would want him back for more training.

I stop breathing, turning my head in the direction the auctioneer is looking, but all I see is an unfamiliar man in a black suit. The man gives a quick nod and raises his hand to bid. Shit. Archer must have sent this man to bid instead of him. For a moment, I’m lightheaded, but then I slowly and surely lift my hand in the air. The auctioneer’s eyes fly toward me, and I name my price. When I glance at Archer’s guy, he’s staring back at me, his lips slightly parted.

I’m suddenly glad he’s here and not Archer. The guy raises the bid, and I do the same. His jaw is clenched, and I can see him typing something quickly on his phone. Would Archer be willing to spend so much money on Isaac? The auctioneer said Archer had trained Isaac already, and I wondered when that happened. Archer isn’t taking many slaves because he likes to focus only on one slave at a time, and he isn’t exactly running an elite prostitution ring like Raphael, but he’s good at organizing sex parties.

Archer’s man looks up from his phone. Ten, he yells out, and my jaw almost hits the floor. He did not just offer... Fuck.

Eleven, I say.

Twelve. The guy doesn’t even blink, and I know I can’t give up now, not just to help Lilith make sure some of those evil bastards get what they deserve, but also because I don’t want Archer to get what he wants. I’ve been waiting for way too long to find a way to get back at him for what he did to me, and although this won’t even begin to cover it, it’ll be something.

My revenge plan of preference would be putting a bullet through his head, but that would seriously violate my agreement with him, and I’m not about to watch anyone close to me die simply because I wanted revenge. No, I have to be smart about this, although I doubt anything I do will turn me back into the girl I used to be before Archer kidnapped and...

A crack of a whip against the floor makes me look up at the stage. Isaac is curled into a ball on the ground, his back turned to us. Lilith wasn’t exaggerating when she mentioned the scars on Isaac’s back. Even under the new welts and whip marks, his scars are still prominent. His whole back is shredded with them.

My heart is jumping in my chest, and I take a deep breath. Twenty.

The auctioneer’s head snaps toward me, and I can hear the quick intake of breath from someone in the audience. Twenty! he says. Is Mr. Archer offering more? The auctioneer’s eyes are filled with fervor and I’m sure he didn’t expect anyone to offer so much for any slave, let alone for this one. He’s going to get a pretty nice cut of that money.

Archer’s guy is furiously texting and chewing on his lower lip. I doubt Archer will offer more money. He certainly has it, and he likes a good challenge, but I don’t think he’ll go this far. I would hate to have to borrow money from my father to cover the cost, so I hope Archer will drop out of the race.

Not this time, Archer’s man says, his shoulders slumped. I think he was quite enjoying the thrill of this. I lean back in my seat.

Alright. Sold for twenty to the lady! the auctioneer says, a pleased undertone in his voice. Isaac manages to straighten his back as the men grab his arms again to lead him offstage. He spits blood on the ground as his eyes rake over the crowd, but I’m sure he can’t see me because of the light shining straight into his eyes.

Unwilling to stay a moment longer to see more people I can’t save walk onto the stage to be degraded and sold like cattle, I get to my feet and hurry backstage. I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, especially Archer’s guy’s curious ones. I wonder if Archer will find out about this and figure out who bested him and got what he wanted. Considering how many connections he has around here, he probably will. Besides, it’s enough that his employee just describes me to him. He’ll immediately know who I am; I’m sure of it.

Hello, miss, a woman greets me when I step into a small, empty room with gray walls. She’s wearing a tight leather black dress, high heels, and way too much makeup. Your purchase will be ready in a moment. If you would please... She hands me a tablet so I can transfer the money. Everything, from this place’s own special currency to the accounts, is super safe and secret, and I’m sure no one would be able to trace it even if they wanted to. There’s also a medical report that assures that Isaac is healthy and has gone through various checkups. I even have an option to return him if I find out he’s been damaged. I hand the tablet back to the woman, and she smiles.

Thank you, she says, then gives me a black carton bag with a symbol of some perfume brand. Inside the bag is a black perfume box that definitely contains something other than the perfume. I don’t have to look to know it’s a package of pills that are supposed to help me control my purchase easier. Don’t give it more than four a day. If you need more or anything else, just let us know, the woman says, and I give her a brief nod.

The door in front of me opens, and Isaac walks in, followed by a masked man. They have cleaned up the blood from his face, and he’s wearing dark jeans, boots, and a turtleneck sweater, no doubt to hide all the bruises. Isaac’s eyes are empty, and he’s just staring in front of him. They’ve pumped him full of drugs.

Do you need assistance? the woman asks as I place my hand on Isaac’s arm and steer him toward the exit.

No. I don’t look back at her as I tug on Isaac’s arm and lead him down a long hallway until we emerge into the VIP area of a big bar. Who would ever suspect I just purchased a man in a secret room hidden in a bar? I take Isaac’s arm and wind it around my neck, and as we slowly make our way toward the exit, I notice one woman at the bar has her eyes narrowed at us.

Come on, baby, let’s get you home, I say to Isaac. Can’t believe you got drunk so early. It’s not even 7 p.m. I had to stop my shopping spree because of you! I make a show of rolling my eyes and the woman’s face turns sympathetic. Getting my drunk boyfriend to my car takes some effort, but I finally push Isaac into the back seat. Sit still, okay?

He just leans back, his eyes glazed. I sigh, and before I close the door, I throw the bag with the pills onto the front seat. If the drugs wear off too soon, I don’t want him to be anywhere near those pills. After I get in the car and make sure all doors are locked, I gun the engine and speed toward my apartment, hoping I’ll come up with a good way to explain everything to him.

It takes me a while to get Isaac out of the car and then into the elevator, and all the way to my apartment. But as I try to steer him in the right direction, he recoils from my touch and runs his hand through his hair, wincing. The drugs must be wearing off, and judging by how quickly that happened, he’s been on those drugs before.

Isaac? I say tentatively as I close and lock the door. He blinks at me, then at my hallway.

Don’t fucking touch me! he snarls, leaning on the wall for support. 

Okay. I set the bag with the pills and my purse on the cabinet and raise my hands up. Maybe we could sit down and talk first. I’m not...

He screws his eyes tightly shut and shakes his head. I open my mouth to tell him the truth about why I bought him, but before I can say anything, he lifts his head, his blue eyes flashing dangerously, and lurches at me, his fist held high.

I barely have a moment to duck, and his fist collides with the wall above my head.

Isaac! Stop it! I’m trying to help you! I’m trapped between the wall and him, and if I want to get up again or get away, I’ll have to push him or hit him, and I don’t want to do any of that. He already thinks I’m just another one of his captors. He’s still unsteady on his feet, and when he looks at his fist, a frown forming on his forehead, I can see blood coating his knuckles. He stumbles back, and I use the opportunity to jump up and put some distance between us.

Isaac, I say softly, and he drops his hand to his side, his fingers still tightly curled.

Stop talking! he snaps, pressing his hand against his temple. "I don’t