Folsom (End of Men, #1)(63)
Petite suddenly appears through a door and walks to the middle of the stage, clasping her hands together.
“Our one and only item tonight is a very rare and special treat for all of you,” the governor says.
An auction!
She casts a look over her shoulder. “Lift the curtain, please.”
The red velvet lifts dramatically and Laticus is displayed in a glass case, dressed in a black suit. I search his face for signs of fear or distress, but he looks perfectly relaxed. He looks so much like his father that for a moment I have to look away. My heart begins to race. Why is he here? What are they doing with him? I glance around to see if shock is registering anywhere in the room, but everyone seems to know why they’re here. I recognize some of their faces: Mrs. Doherty, who owns a chain of salons across the Red; her wife Deana, who is in charge of sustainable energy in all of the Regions; the Shaws, who have a shipping company that handles all of our international trade. Their daughters accompany them, sitting at attention next to their mothers, their eyes glued to Laticus.
The lust in their eyes repulses me. I turn to the woman next to me, grey-haired and regal. She sits with her hand on a younger woman’s knee.
“What are they auctioning?” I ask her.
She looks surprised at the sound of my voice, like she didn’t realize someone was sitting next to her.
“His virginity, of course.” She turns back to the spectacle, not wanting to miss a minute of the action. I resist the urge to place my head between my knees.
I’m dizzy, my eyes wide with shock.
“We will begin bidding at—”
I don’t hear anything after that but the roar in my own ears. I look around in a panic, searching their faces. There are at least a hundred people in this room…surely someone will say something. The vile nature of auctioning off a child’s virginity. Each time someone bids, a ding sounds, followed by a number that appears on the glass Laticus stands in. I watch the price for him increase by the second; they’re increasing it by increments of a thousand. I’m disgusted by what they’re willing to pay for him, too scared to say anything in case they throw me out. By the final ding, his price is a small fortune. It’s then that the words come back to me. Words from just a few hours ago. There’s a high price to pay for freedom. The governor raises her gavel and before she can connect it to a final sale, I press the button on my chair. There’s a pause during which time the room is eerily quiet.
“Sold to seat number ninety-seven,” the governor calls.
My heart drops out when I hear the number.
The woman sitting next to me abruptly stands up, pulling the younger woman along with her. I realize that she was the last to bid before me. She shoots me a terrifying look before stalking out of the room, a sore loser.
“Seat number ninety-seven,” the governor calls, her eyes searching through the faces.
I reach into the small clutch I brought with me, my fingers searching. I find it, small and solid. Gripping it between my thumb and forefinger, I flick open the cover at the same time that I stand. The governor finds me in the crowd, the smile dropping from her face. Her eyes register shock.
“Seat number ninety-seven,” I call out.
I smile as I press Kasper’s button.
THIRTY-TWO
GWEN
I’m escorted from the room and to a private area where I’ll be asked to transfer the money for Laticus. The governor’s eyes follow me out; her face is a mask, but I feel the rage spinning off of her body. My insides are thrumming, hairs on my arms standing to attention. It wasn’t until I saw the shock on her face that I realized she had nothing to do with me being here. I think back to Cardi’s words to me before I left the house. It hadn’t made sense when she said it, but I thought she was one of Pandora’s people. The knife in my hemline suddenly feels heavy.
I sign and wait as they draft the money from my account. The room is cool, but I find myself sweating. I have to sign a disclosure and a dozen other documents they pull up on a Silverbook. Finally they escort me to a private elevator.
“The lift will take you to your suite. The auctioned will be with you shortly.”
The auctioned? I gape. He’s not a boy; he’s something to be sold. My heart beats out a tune: Folsom…Laticus…Folsom…Laticus…
There’s no time to respond, the door is closing, moving up in a smooth motion. My feet ache in the shoes I’m wearing. I wish I’d worn something more practical. I’m shaking so badly by the time the door opens that I barely register my surroundings as I collapse in the nearest chair. I don’t have time to waste. I pull out Kasper’s button. It’s just as it was before. No magical light blinking. No message. Just a piece of metal that resembles trash. What if it had all been a joke, or the button has broken somehow? No. I can’t think like that. Tucking it back into my clutch I look around. Someone orchestrated this. I’m in a large suite overlooking the city. I see a bedroom, small kitchen, and sitting area. I look around for stairs. There has to be stairs. The elevator dings and I freeze, my eyes on the doors.
Laticus. He looks around sheepishly, and I run for him, clutching my belly.
“You!” I say, taking his face in my palms. “Are you okay?”
He’s grown an inch since I last saw him. And the way they’ve cut his hair makes him look older.