Page 18 of Savage Desires

I quickly enter the details for the account I set up just for this purpose and transfer the funds. The woman picks up the tablet, confirming that payment has been received.

"Very good, eight-three-two. Lexis will show you to your room. A note in your file says she has been gifted to you. You may use her the same way as your prize. Zero limits."

Lexis is visibly shaking now. She has just been gifted to a man that bought a woman intending to rape, torture, and kill her. That man has been permitted to do the same to her without consequences. I would be worried if she wasn't scared.

"Lexis. Take him to his room," the woman says sharply.

Lexis jumps and quickly leads me to the elevator across the lobby. She pushes the up button with a shaky finger. The doors slide open with a ding, making her jump. I guide her into the elevator and wait for her to select the correct floor. Once she's pushed the button for the second floor, I grab her arm and pull her to me until she's plastered to my body.

To anyone watching, I'm taking advantage of the gift they've offered. Only my hold on her arm isn't tight, and I'm gently stroking her with my thumb, offering what little comfort I can.

"Relax," I whisper.

I don't know if there are cameras or listening devices here, and I don't want to risk letting on that I'm ungrateful for my gift. I need them to think I'm excited to have Lexis as an added prize. Even though Lexis looks at me with fearful eyes, she's no longer visibly shaking. She's scared of the unknown but has some level of trust in me.

The elevator stops, and the doors open. She leads me down an empty hallway to a black door adorned with a gold three. She stops in front of the door and looks up at me nervously.

"Put your number into the keypad."

I follow her instructions and the sound of a lock disengaging fills the space. She opens the door with a shaky hand, and gestures for me to enter.

CHAPTER SIX

WILLOW

This whole situation is surreal. After being paraded out on stage like a prize cow for rich bastards to bid on, I was manhandled into this room. Even though I haven't put up any fight and have followed all instructions, the fucker in charge of keeping us in line has taken every opportunity to put his hands on me. I'm going to have bruises on my arms from being grabbed and drug around.

Well, I would have bruises tomorrow if I live to see tomorrow… Pretty sure the chances of that are unlikely, considering what the auctioneer said. He confirmed that our buyers are allowed to do anything and everything to us and will be disposing of our bodies as part of the deal.

When the other girls finally learned their fate, they panicked. Two of them tried to run and got all of five steps out of line before they were caught and then chained to the floor by their ankles while they awaited their turn to go on stage. All of them cried. Their fear and despair were palpable.

I stayed stoic and resolved. There's nothing I can do to change my situation. I can only control how I react to it. Biding my time and taking my anger out on the asshole that bought me is my end game. When it was my turn to go on stage, I kept my head high and refused to cower. It felt like I stood there for hours, awaiting the bidding war to stop. It took longer than with any of the other girls. Soon enough, I finally found out how much my life is worth…

Ninety-three thousand dollars.

Some asshole paid ninety-three thousand dollars to rape and murder me. It's despicable. I hope he's ready to get his money's worth. I plan to give him hell. I'm going to use every dirty trick my dad taught me. My main goal is to cause pain and leave a permanent mark on the man.

I've run through dozens of plans on how I will accomplish that. The one that should be most effective is a knee to the dick, followed by clawing his face and eyes. It's the first time since I've been captured that I'm thankful for them requiring us to have our nails manicured to perfection. They are sharp and will do damage. Beyond that, I will fight until I can't fight anymore.

I'm currently pacing around the room I was shoved into. I don't know how long I've been in here. Long enough to figure out that there is nothing that can be turned into a weapon in here. The drawers and cabinets are locked with a pin pad as the only way to open them. That includes the doors, I assume, lead to a bathroom and the exit. Unless I can make a weapon out of the sheet on the huge bed, there is literally nothing I can use to defend myself. Whoever made these rooms certainly thought of everything.

Even though my body is still exhausted from my time in the cage without food and water, I refuse to sit. I don't care if I'm in here for hours. I'd rather stand than sit on the bed or any other furniture bolted down and obviously ready to restrain a person. Fuck that. I could sit on the floor, but with how sluggish and sore I am, it would waste precious seconds getting up. If I'm going to succeed in attacking this man, I need the element of surprise and zero hesitation from the moment the door opens.

I pass the time by going through my plan over and over. I imagine how my body will move as I attack. I think about every contingency I can imagine based on my years of training. I am out of practice and weak, but my determination is strong. I'm going to put everything I have into this fight.

My dad's words float through my head, "You will always be smaller than your opponent, but that doesn't mean you can't win the fight. You're strong and capable. Use every advantage. Hit where it hurts. Fight dirty. You might be small, but you're fast. Wear them down."

My heart aches as I remember his words of encouragement. He always built me up and gave me confidence. His gym catered to male fighters—there are very few female UFC fighters out there—so my training opponents were men. I started sparring with my dad, then moved on to the lightweight fighters.

I always found it funny when they pandered to me and didn't give me their all. I was just a kid, but I still took down men more than twice my size. Obviously, they couldn't hit me at full strength, but they all wrote me off as nonthreatening. I loved proving myself.

This will be the fight of my life, and even though my dad will never know, I will fight in a way that will make him proud. I clench my fists and close my eyes, letting my dad's words and training flit through my mind. When I hear the lock on the door disengage, I open my eyes and let out my breath, waiting for him to enter the room.

I'm ready to pounce when I realize the person entering the room is a nearly naked woman. My jaw clenches at the thought of this fucker buying more than one woman tonight. I thought I was the last to be auctioned, but I could've been wrong.

The woman looks at me with scared eyes. She looks like she's about to puke or faint. I wait for her to walk further into the room. I take a step to the side so she's not blocking my path to the door. Seconds later, a huge man wearing a suit and a menacing black goat's skull mask with curving horns steps into the room.

I don't hesitate to attack. A burst of adrenaline-induced energy and strength fills me as I rush forward. The man is distracted by taking in the room and doesn't notice me moving until it's too late. He tries to block my hit, but my knee connects with his balls while I simultaneouslygrab his mask and fling it away.