The Games We Play

34. Thirty-Three - Tess

Thirty-Three - Tess

Dad sits next to me in the backseat of his car, filled with men who have more guns than I can count concealed on their persons. They regard him with an air of royalty. Like anything my dad says, is the end all be all and equivalent to the gospel.

He is their messiah, and it’s scary as hell to watch how they don’t second guess an order.

If he told them to shoot me in the head at this very second, they would. And I’d be dead.

I always end up dead.

No matter how many scenarios I play through.

I. End. Up. Dead.

He’s after X tonight. I don’t know why or how he knows him at all.

It wasn’t until blood poured from my split lip by Victor that Dad realized I didn’t have the answers he wanted and finally believed me when I said I didn’t know who he was .

My lip is still tender, and that was two days ago.

Five days of being trapped in my house with Roxy at my dad’s mercy. Scott didn’t return after I bit out a chunk of his ear. He sits across from me now, studying me with a chilling calm. His ear is bandaged still, but his long, shaggy hair almost hides it.

My body feels heavy. With all the sedatives Dad has been feeding me, I can barely hold my eyes open and focus. Dad’s knee bounces beside me, and he checks his watch periodically. He seems…on edge. Which is so far from the controlled man I’ve been around this week.

This morning, he barged into my room and told me we were going to a party, and I needed to look the part. He laid a dress on my bed, complete with what I can only describe as a collar and leash.

Now in the car, Victor holds the end of my leash in one hand while a white, diamond-studded collar sits around my neck.

Whoever this man is isn’t my dad, and I’m long past trying to plead with the monster. Maybe he never was, and I was too young and na?ve to see it before.

When the timing is right, he’s going to learn that I’m not the daughter he thought I was. The image of his blood painting the floors and walls keeps me going.

The car rolls to a stop. Dad and his men adorn their features with masks, and he slips one over my face as well. It’s black, topped with lace, and covers from my nose and down the right side, conveniently hiding the bruises my makeup couldn’t.

Dad’s men get out of the car first without a word. Victor tugs on the leather strap attached to my throat, and I’m forced out of the car.

A long, form-fitted red dress hugs every curve of my body and dips to my naval. X’s mark is on full display with the strapless ensemble. Dad was delighted when he found it and connected the dots .

“Remember, you don’t want anything to happen to Roxy or Ryan,” Dad whispers in my ear as he buttons his suit jacket.

Clenching my jaw, I nod as Dad takes my leash, and we walk up the carpeted stairs to the biggest house I’ve ever seen.

Not a house—this is a mansion.

“Don’t speak,” Dad reminds me. Apparently, the proper etiquette for tonight is if a man wants to test me out , he’ll ask Dad for permission, then take me and do what he will. Dad assured me that sex is off the table. The buyers know that. I’ll mostly be dancing while they get their hands full to decide if they want to purchase the real estate, then fuck me.

I puked the moment Dad left me with that information and hadn’t been able to eat since.

Roxy and Ryan. I have to do this for them .

Who knew the gift he bought me would be the leverage he would use against me?

“Appear, pleasant,” he encourages as we approach the large, intricately designed wooden doors.

Two guards walk in front of us, while four encompass beside and behind us.

What does he need all this protection from? X? Is there a bigger picture I’m not seeing? I take in my surroundings without moving my head, relying on my periphery and what Dad is leading us toward.

I’m not the only woman with a leash and collar. Almost every man dressed in a suit here has someone by his side. Beautiful and flattering dresses cling to their bodies, and men walk around them like they’re eying a piece of artwork.

And everyone is wearing a mask .

They’re all different, but I couldn’t pick out a single person in a lineup if I tried. Probably because what they’re doing is illegal as fuck.

Dad leads me past groups standing in various locations. Their heads swivel as they follow his every step.

Do they know who he is behind his mask ?

There’s a stage set up at the far end of the room, and Dad walks right up to the front and center like he owns the place. All eyes land on us, and I freeze—or try to. Dad gives a solid yank on the chain, and I fall into him.

He positions me before him, and the room erupts in applause. The crowd quiets, and I scan each mask, wondering if X is among them. Is he a monster like these people?

“Friends,” Dad says. “I’m so glad you could attend this evening. When my father, may he rest in peace,” He makes a motion of some kind across his chest, and the crowd mirrors him. “Started this tradition to bring us together once a year. I knew it was something I had to continue.”

A waiter brings a tray with a single flute of champagne and offers it to Dad. He takes it and raises it in the air for a toast.

“To a new year, new beginnings, and old friends.”

There is a large golden clock on the wall across from us, and the small hand ticks by with the seconds. My heart thumps twice that fast, and my palms sweat.

My grandfather started this? He proposed bringing women in here on leashes to be paraded around?

Dad leans in as the crowd continues to cheer. “It’s show time.” The waiter takes the empty glass, and I’m led back down the stairs where the guards take their post .

Music plays, soft and seductive from a live instrumental band I hadn’t noticed before. All around, men approach the ones holding leashes. Some are led to the dance floor, and others are taken to dark corners of the room where the man sits while the woman puts on a show.

Acid churns my stomach, and I fight the urge to puke again.

“Darius,” a man greets Dad as he approaches. He has longer hair than Dad’s guards, and his mask only covers one eye, as if he doesn’t care if he’s concealed or not.

Dad sips on his fresh glass of champagne, and I wish I had several glasses to calm my nerves.

“Happy New Year,” the man says. Dad hasn’t taken the time to address him. His eyes scan the crowd and flick to the clock like he’s counting down the minutes to when this horrible experience is over.

“Same to you.”

The man extends his hand, and Dad’s guards circle in.

“Apologies,” the man says. “I merely meant to see what fine piece you brought with you this evening. We’re all intrigued. After all, this is the first time you’ve brought a specimen.”

Dad waves his hand, and his guards take a step back. “She is rather enticing, isn’t she? She’s extremely special. One of a kind. My blood runs through her veins.”

The man’s eyes widen, and I clench my fists to keep my hands from shaking.

“That is a rarity, indeed. Although she is scarred,” he eyes the X on my chest and tsks. “What’s the price?”

Dad snorts. “You’d make an offer without having it inspected?”

The man huffs and shrugs his shoulders. “Something as valuable as this—once word gets out, I won’t stand a chance. ”

Dad extends his arm and offers my leash to the man. He licks his lips.

“No! Dad, please,” I beg. His hand flies up and squeezes my cheeks, jerking me around so our backs are to the crowd.

“One more outburst and I will give the orders. Do you want Roxy’s blood on your hands?”

I swallow, and my eyes burn. If I cry, I know it won’t go over well. Mustering every bit of willpower I have, I straighten my spine and try to imagine I am anywhere but here.

“Good,” Dad praises loudly, and we turn to face the man. “Lincoln.”

The stranger nods and takes my leash. He leads me to the center of the dance floor, and I glance around us as women in high heels and beautiful jewelry dance with grace. They’re seductive, using their bodies like fine-turned instruments.

Lincoln takes my leash and hand in one of his while his other snakes around my waist and pulls me flush against him. “You seem distracted, dear. Tell me, what are your hobbies, hmm? What do you like to do when nobody is watching?” His hand slides down, and I stiffen. Dad is watching me. His gaze burns into my back.

What am I expected to say? What is a suitable answer?

Swallowing my revulsion, I place my hand on his shoulder and let him lead me in time with the music. Aside from standing on my father’s feet as a child, I’ve never formally danced in my life. I step on Lincoln’s toe, and he adds space between us but doesn’t let me go.

“You’re not the talkative type. Not a total disappointment,” he mutters. “But this scar,” He shakes his head. “How did someone as beautiful as you come across that nasty thing?”

Nasty ? How could he think of something as meaningful and intimate as nasty ?

“It was carved on my chest with a knife, marking me to show whom I belong to,” I answer, heat rushing to the surface of my skin as I think of X.

Lincoln chuckles and twirls me around. “After tonight, I’ll be carving an L right along here.” His finger drops between us and skims just above my pubic bone. “Then you’ll know who you really belong to.”

I stiffen, and my eyes burn. No. I won’t. I can’t let that happen. There is no way Dad would ever go through with this, right? Even a man as twisted as him has to have limits. He can’t auction off his own daughter.

“Lincoln,” Dad says, and the man removes his hands and steps back, acknowledging my father.

“She is something,” another man says off to Dad’s side. His black mask has intricate gold designs along the contours of his cheek and brow bones.

“Douglas,” Lincoln greets, and the masked man nods.

What is the point of these masks if everyone knows each other already?

Lincoln returns my leash to Dad before leaving, and I’m introduced to the next man.

Dad glances around the crowd like this exchange is merely an afterthought. Douglas takes my leash and leads me across the dance floor to a plush velvet couch in a dark corner.

“I’ve seen you dance,” he says with disgust in his tone. “Let’s hope your body feels better than it moves. You may be Darius’ daughter, but your name alone won’t convince me to buy you tonight.”