The Virgin Auction Read online

  Table of Contents

  The Virgin Auction

  Copyright © 2018 by J.S. Scott

  Prelude

  About the Author

  BOOKS BY J.S. SCOTT

  The Virgin Auction

  Prelude to Billionaire Unloved

  Jett

  J.S. Scott

  Copyright © 2018 by J.S. Scott

  All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organiza- tions, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Natalie Townson

  Prelude

  Ruby

  I felt like my whole crappy life had led to the nightmare I was living at the moment:

  I was naked.

  There was a chain around my waist that my captor was pulling on to propel me forward.

  And in a matter of moments, I’d be standing on a stage with demented people staring at my body and trying to decide how much money my virginity and I were worth.

  I have to get the hell out of here!

  My own stupidity had gotten me here, and I was going to have to find a way to escape. I’d been homeless and desperate when my kidnappers had offered me a job. I guessed hunger had been a good motivator since I’d ended up accepting the offer.

  But I hadn’t seen the light of day since I’d gotten into their car that day a few weeks ago. I’d been held in a bug infested hotel room with barred windows and no chance of escape.

  The only good thing about my make-shift prison had been the food. I’d been fed, but the meals hadn’t been given out of kindness. My kidnappers had wanted to fatten me up like a farmer wants to put weight on their cattle to make them more attractive to buyers.

  My body was shaking as I was led onto the stage. I wasn’t terrified about being naked, which was pretty damn uncomfortable. My fear was more about who was going to bid high enough in this crazy virgin auction, and what their plan for me might be after the sale.

  I flinched as I was pulled into place and kept there by the man holding the chain.

  Don’t panic. Dani said she’d rescue me.

  The problem was, I didn’t really know Dani well enough to judge whether somebody would come to help me. We’d only met once in person, and talked on the phone a few times. She’d seemed nice enough, but I’d learned early in life that people let me down, and that the only one who really cared about my survival was me.

  I lifted my chin, determined not to let anybody know how scared I was. I’d been through bad situations before, and I refused to cower. Some people got off on humiliating others, and I wasn’t about to give any potential buyers reason to pay more for a woman who would tremble and cower.

  I’ll find a way to escape.

  Getting free was my only option, and because I was fed and rested, I was a hell of a lot faster than I’d been when I’d been captured.

  I tried to relax enough to get me to another place, to let my mind lead me to anywhere else but where I was at the moment. It was a childhood trick I’d adopted when I didn’t want to be in the moment because it was too damn painful.

  But it wasn’t working this time. So I stared into the sea of faces I could make out in the smoke-filled room.

  The lights on the stage were bright enough that I couldn’t see much except the people closest to the stage. My eyes landed on one face, and I couldn’t look away.

  My rapidly beating heart tripped as I stared at the man in the front row.

  For an instant, I felt safe as he looked into my eyes, ignoring the fact that I was naked. Were his eyes trying to say something to me, or was I imagining it because I wanted to think he felt sorry for me?

  As the auctioneer started to talk about the many ways I could be used and abused if I was sold to someone with darker fetishes, I broke eye contact with the dark-haired man.

  There’s no kindness for me. It was obviously just a desperate thought.

  A moment later, I knew I was right when the man I’d hoped wasn’t looking at my body but was seeing me placed a bid.

  I blinked back tears as I continued to stare into the darkness at the back of the room, my body rigid even though all I wanted to do was collapse on the floor in a puddle of hopelessness.

  In that moment, I wished that I had mustered up the courage to somehow kill myself to avoid the humiliation that was washing over me in painful waves. Maybe I could have found a way, but my will to survive was stronger than my desire to sink into the oblivion of death.

  I shook off the dark thought, knowing I’d never willingly give up my life, even though I felt like any hope of ever truly living was gone.

  I’ll get free. I’ll find a way.

  I remembered a quote I’d read that was connected to Roosevelt: If you have reached the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.

  I was clinging to my knot right now, but I refused to let go. I’d been inspired by quotes and literature all my life. Since the library was free, I’d spent most of my time there absorbing as much information and inspiration as I could find between the pages of books and other information provided for the public.

  Sold!!!

  That one word barked by the auctioneer brought me back to where I was standing: Naked, terrified, and on a stage in front of many people who wanted to do me harm.

  I’d just been sold like a horse at auction.

  And my eyes darted around the room in horror, trying to find my way out.

  I pushed my long brown hair back with a trembling hand. My price had gone over six figures, so even if I escaped, I knew I’d be hunted down like an escaped convict. Nobody was going to pay that much money and lose an expensive brood mare.

  But I knew I’d rather make a break for freedom and be on the run than to just accept whatever my fate was going to be.

  I watched as my purchaser went to the cashier to arrange payment while I was pulled down the steps and out of the bright lights that had nearly blinded me.

  We came to a stop beside the man who had bought me, and disappointment nearly crushed me as I realized my new owner was the very man who had given me momentary hope.

  It was the dark-haired guy from the front row who had briefly met my eyes with what I’d perceived as kindness.

  As usual, I’d been so damn wrong.

  I blinked as he looked up at me, his expression now filled with anger.

  “Cover her and release her!” he barked at the man still holding my chain.

  My chain was removed, and I was handed a dark cover-up that I quickly donned. It was thin, like something a woman would wear to cover a bathing suit, but I gladly pulled the material down over my privates, relieved to not be completely naked.

  “Let’s go,” my new nemesis growled into my ear as he took my upper arm to guide me out of the club.

  I moved with him, anxious to get out of the club that was sleazy enough to auction off virgins, not caring whether the women were willingly or unwillingly.

  I had a feeling that nearly every woman being sold was completely unwilling, or had been forced to do so by tragedy. I’d met two women in the holding area that had been sold off to somebody in a third world country. They’d been tourists in the U.S. for a holiday. They’d been victims of a kidnapping, and now they might never see their own countries again.

  I stumbled slightly to keep up with the dark-haired man.

  That’s when I noticed that my latest captor had a
weakness, a slight limp to his step. It wasn’t much, but I could use it to my advantage.

  My heart nearly exploded with relief as I realized that I could probably outrun him if I could just get outside.

  He pushed through the heavy wood doors with a powerful arm, and I welcomed the humid air that suddenly enfolded me.

  I took a deep breath.

  My escort released my arm as he motioned toward the parking lot to indicate that he was parked beside the building.

  I was scared, but another quote floated into my mind:

  Freedom lies in being bold!

  I was pretty sure the great poet, Robert Frost, wrote that, but I was too terrified to be certain. All I knew was that those words were completely true in my situation.

  I had to have courage if I was going to live.

  My buyer stepped forward to make his way to the parking lot.

  And I took off like a shot in the opposite direction.

  “Ruby!” I heard the irritated male bellow, but I didn’t stop.

  I realized I was in one of the roughest areas of Miami, but that didn’t stop me either. My bare feet kept hitting the pavement, and I told myself I’d rather face the seedy area than to give in to a man who had paid a fortune to own me.

  Once I was outside the lights of the club, I was met by darkness. Most of the businesses were closed, and the light was so dim that I couldn’t see where I was going.

  But I kept running until I could hear my own ragged breath as I pushed forward.

  I was out of breath, and in bad shape from the weeks I’d been held captive and inactive.

  Please, just let me escape.

  My fear kept my legs moving, but the lack of light caused my leg to come down on something that sent excruciating pain shooting through my foot.

  My steps faltered as the agony gave way to hopelessness.

  I tried to keep moving, but I would have fallen if a powerful body hadn’t slammed into my back, and supporting arms hadn’t wrapped around me.

  “Noooo!” I howled, knowing my escape had been brief and the price pretty damn high.

  I couldn’t see him since he was behind me, but I knew that my buyer had successfully hunted down his expensive purchase.

  As I struggled to get out of his strong hold, I could hear his harsh breath on the side of my neck. His grip wasn’t cruel, but he was hanging onto what was now his property.

  “Just let me go,” I choked out in a sob.

  I gave into the despair that had been hanging over me for weeks like a dark cloud, the pain of the injury to my foot exacerbating the feeling of helplessness that I’d come to hate.

  His voice was harsh as he rasped, “I’m not here to hurt you, woman. I’m here to help. Dani sent me.”

  My panicked brain took a moment to acknowledge what he said. My new friend had sent me help? She’d really come through?

  “Who are you?” I asked, my throat balking at the usage of my voice after my marathon sprint.

  His hold on me relaxed as he answered, “My name is Jett. I’m Dani’s brother. She sent me here to rescue you. I’m sorry. It seemed easier to buy your freedom than to take on people who might hurt you.”

  Freedom? I hardly knew what that meant anymore, but I wanted it more than I’d ever wanted anything. I’d never truly been free.

  I opened my mouth, but a sob escaped instead of the words I meant to say.

  Another one left my mouth.

  And then another.

  My body shuddered as I bawled like I never had in the past.

  Relief flowed over me, and the only thing that kept me standing was Jett’s hold on me as he turned me around and let me howl out my emotions on his muscular shoulder.

  I felt safer than I ever had in my twenty-two years of existence on Earth.

  He didn’t speak as I cried. His hands stroked over my hair and down my back, his touch comforting.

  “It’s over, Ruby. I promise you, it’s over.” Jett’s voice was husky and deep as he made his vow.

  I was calmer as I finally answered, “But now I’m indebted to you,” I pointed out with a sniffle.

  Jett had paid more money for me than I could even process in my mind. I felt rich when I had enough money to buy a hamburger from the dollar menu.

  “Don’t worry about the money,” he rasped. “Let’s just get you somewhere safe.”

  He wrapped his arm around my waist, but I still winced as I tried to put more weight on my foot. “I have to go slow,” I said as all the breath whooshed out of my lungs from the pain of trying to walk.

  “What happened?” he asked brusquely as he stooped down to try to look at my injury.

  “I think I stepped on something,” I answered.

  A small beam of light illuminated my lower extremities and I heard Jett curse, “Fuck! You’re bleeding all over the sidewalk. You didn’t just step on something. You ran through shards of glass.”

  He had his cell phone in his hand, and he used the light to look back at the large pieces of glass behind us.

  “I can make it,” I said shakily. I just wanted to get out of the general area of the club.

  “Damn right you will,” Jett grumbled as he handed me the light and hefted me into his arms before I could protest.

  He limped heavily as he took on my weight, but his long strides had us both in his car within a short period of time.

  I heaved a sigh as he got behind the wheel after wrapping my foot with his own shirt.

  I didn’t see his scars until he was seated, the overhead lights illuminating his body and face.

  Very little marred the masculine beauty of his face. One or two small scars at his temple looked like they’d faded over time, but as my eyes took in his powerful chest and torso, I could see he’d been in a horrible accident at one time.

  Somehow, it was comforting that we were both survivors. Not that I wished Jett pain of any kind, but I felt a kinship toward the man who was my rescuer.

  Pain is personal. It really belongs to the one feeling it.

  I’d read that somewhere, and at the time, I’d really believed it to be true. The words had stuck in my brain.

  But I could empathize.

  Jett’s scars were external.

  Mine were all over my soul.

  My gaze moved up again, and I met his gorgeous green-eyed stare as he turned his head to look at me. “I’m sorry. But you needed my shirt,” he rumbled, sounding embarrassed.

  I shrugged. Jett was breathtaking, even with all his scars. “You look better without it anyway. But I’m sorry I ruined it.”

  He looked taken aback, and then he scowled as he shut off the light and started the car.

  He put the car into motion, and I wondered after the fact if Jett thought he needed to hide his body just because he had a few imperfections.

  I wanted to ask him, but I stayed mute. He didn’t know me well enough to trust me, and I put my faith in no one except myself.

  I’d tried to trust the couple who had kidnapped me because I was desperate for food. And look how that had turned out.

  I was grateful that Jett had rescued me, and I’d do everything in my power to pay him back one day, but I didn’t trust anybody.

  It had always been safer that way.

  §§§

  A few hours later, I listened as the emergency room doctor put a brace on Jett’s knee, trying to hear what the verdict would be on his injured leg. Unfortunately, the physician had pulled the curtain between our ER beds, so I couldn’t really see what was happening.

  Thinking we were a couple, the nurse had put us into a room that had two beds, and Jett had talked me through my x-rays and the extensive number of stitches I’d needed to repair the gash on my foot.

  My wound would heal quickly.

  But I wasn’t sure about Jett’s knee.

  I was riddled with guilt over the fact that he’d been injured, and I hadn’t even known there was anything wrong with Jett until the nurse had mentioned how badly his knee wa
s swelling. I’d been mortified when I saw how the denim of his jeans was stretched because his knee was the size of a grapefruit. She’d insisted he get checked out, too, something I’d be eternally grateful for since I hadn’t seen the damage myself.

  I’d been too busy worrying about my own injuries, and I hated hospitals.

  I hadn’t noticed that Jett was probably in worse shape than I was, yet he’d been trying to keep me calm while I was having x-rays and sutures put in.

  He’d just gotten back from his MRI a few minutes ago, and he’d blown the whole thing off by saying he’d had much worse injuries in his life.

  However, I hadn’t caused any of his other injuries, but I felt directly responsible for the sprint he’d had to do earlier to catch up to me. And I cringed every time I thought about him picking up my weight so effortlessly and carrying me to his car.

  My ears perked up like a dog’s as the doctor started to speak.

  “Rest, ice, the brace, and keep it elevated to get the swelling down. Your meniscus is torn, but the tear is in an area that gets good blood flow, so if you do what you’re supposed to do, it should eventually heal. Physical therapy—”

  Jett interrupted sharply, “I know the drill, Doc. No sense wasting your breath on my injury. I’ve had more PT than any person should ever have to have in their lifetime.”

  “I can see that,” the doctor said in a more sympathetic voice.

  “My knee was a mess anyway,” Jett said flatly.

  “It was,” the doctor agreed. “But you didn’t have to add another injury. No more sprints for a while. You’ll need to be re-checked, and your orthopedic doctor in Seattle wants to see you once you’re back home so he can see how you’re healing.”

  “Got it,” Jett replied gruffly.

  I startled as the curtain was suddenly jerked open, and I could see Jett’s unhappy face staring at the doctor like he wanted to punch him.

  “The nurse will bring all your discharge instructions shortly,” the doctor said right before he exited and pulled the door closed behind him.

  The room was silent for a moment before I finally said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”