Page 7 of Freak
I squeezed the sentence out of him, his chest bellowing over to my shoulder, and I twisted his nuts like lemons for juice.
“Lift your fucking paddle.” I instructed sternly, catching the attention of Veronica who batted her unknowing eyes.
“We got six hundred… can I get six-fifty?”
“Good boy,” I cooed, squeezing harder. Jake froze, his balls like a leash that I yanked as soon as the price began to climb.
“You crazy bitch…” he groaned.
“That’s right,” I answered, “and if you think of disobeying me, I’ll ensure what future assholes you have swimming around these tired, old balls, come out walking with a limp. Now lift that fucking paddle.” I seethed, momentarily gloating as his shaking hand pathetically lifted for Veronica’s eyes.
“Nine hundred! Can we get a thousand?”
The ladies behind decided on a price, agreeing that their future date would be settled on a battle of rock, paper, scissors. “One thousand, two hundred and fifteen dollars…” One shouted, then added shortly after, “and eleven cents.”
I dug my sharp, black nails into Jake, his eyes on the verge of tears as his hand shot up.
This time, I announced my price.
“Ten thousand dollars!” My voice cleared the room as I released Jake, his stumbled steps mirroring the bewilderment in Veronica’s gaping mouth. I was certain her water was about to break.
With the surprise of my voice came the silence of the auction, the quieted gasps met with the most intense eye contact I’d ever received from Rafael Amada.
I stopped my lip from trembling, my narrowed expression digging into his mocha eyes, challenging him to blink as he slowly realized who I was.
“SOLD! To Summer Evans, in the black Valentino!”
Summer
The moment I tore my check away from the book, I could hear his voice, clear and booming, just as guttural as it was in the mic.
“Summer Evans.” Rafael smiled as I turned around, his height so pronounced that he was forced to turn his chiseled chin down in my direction. “Long time no see.”
“Not long enough…” I replied, collecting a paper stub that acted as a receipt.
He smoothed his hand over his cheek, massaging the pebbled scruff on his jaw. His brief silence was met with the assessment of my face, which I refined into a pursed expression. “I can imagine what this is about,” he finally settled.
“Try imagining it for over three thousand, six hundred and fifty days.”
“And the hours?” He asked quickly.
I stared at the clock on the wall.
“Twenty, to be exact.”
“Seems about right.” He stepped closer, his body language unlike Veronica or Jake’s.
Rafael’s wrists weren’t limp, nor his shoulders slouched. He was as straight and commanding as a fixed statue, sculpted like one too, his aftershave as subtle as snowfall but as warm as suede. It all settled itself onto my chest, as we stood face to face, causing my heart to pound in my ears.
“Well…” I responded, stopping my voice from shaking.
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to ask me how long I’m in town for?”
Rafael grinned, his lips shielding the pearly charm of his perfect teeth. Oh, I wanted to see them, but also to break them with one solid punch. It took everything inside me to stop from balling my fist and slamming it into his face.
“I don’t need to ask that. You and I are the same.”
