Chapter 3

As soon as we get home, I grab the brochure that the guy gave us and rush inside. Curiosity gets the best of me and I need to know what he was talking about. Part of me wonders if he was like an undercover cop trying to get us to solicit sex. The entire situation was downright strange.

I rush up to my room, grab my laptop, and run back to the living room where Dad is. When I type in the address in my browser, a legitimate website pops up and my eyes widen. What's even more shocking is that there's a little padlock in the search bar, showing the connection is encrypted.

I may not be a tech geek, but I've picked up a few simple things during my searches for her. As soon as I click on the icon for the auction, the location is immediately displayed—Club Lust in Detroit. Hm, I've never heard of it. But I'm not really a fan of the club scene. I prefer a dive bar or the comfort of my home.

"Well, anything interesting?" Dad asks as he sits back down on the other end of the couch and hands me a beer.

I scroll down a little, reading the information on the site. "It's an auction like he said. Takes place in a few weeks, May tenth, to be exact, at Club Lust. You only get invited or told about it from a current or past client like we were. Women and men volunteer and go through a screening process to be auctioned off for a weekend of fun with their buyer."

Dad's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Like a prostitution auction. How is that legal?"

"No idea. But that guy was right. It's been happening for years. All merchandise"—I air quote—"undergo an STD test, pregnancy test, a physical, and are given a form of birth control. Then every person, seller or buyer, gives a list of hard no's or yes' and everyone signs an NDA. The merchandise gets to keep five hundred thousand and everything else goes to the club."

Dad whistles. "That's a lot of money. I might sign up to sell myself for that kind of coin."

"You make double that in a year," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"Exactly, in a year. These people make half of that in a weekend."

"You should sign up as a buyer," I tell him.

In the middle of swallowing, he starts choking and coughing. "Fuck no. I have no interest in spending that kind of money on a woman. If I wanted to fuck that bad, I'd just do online dating."

"Not all women are going to be like her, you know? There are some good fish out there," I tell him.

Ever since Ali, he has completely closed himself off from the possibility of meeting someone new. Seven years and he's still bitter. He never goes on dates or socializes with anyone except for me. It fucked him up when she cheated on him and he caught her. I get it. I can't even imagine coming home from work and finding your wife riding the local drug dealer in your bed.

"If we're gonna talk about other fish and moving on, what about you? Still pining over a girl you haven't seen in almost a decade. A girl who was forbidden."

Dammit. He would turn the tables on me.

"I've gotten my dick wet at least in those seven years. What about you, Dad? How's that right hand treatin' ya?" I smirk and quirk an eyebrow. I know I got him with that.

"Little shit. You don't need to worry about my hand or dick. You're my son, not my sex therapist. I'm happy with my life. Sex complicates things."

With a click of the admission button on the site, I am directed to a form where I begin filling out his information. "Well then, this is perfect for you. A weekend of fun and then it's over. No complications and an NDA. They take care of everything for you, so you don't have to worry about a thing."

"I'm not paying for sex," he growls, his voice filled with frustration.

With a smile slowly spreading across my face, I finish filling out the form and click submit. "You won't. I will. Happy Father's Day, Christmas, and birthday."

"No, you fucking didn't," he growls.

"I did." I smile. "You're going. It says you can bring a guest in case sharing is your thing. So I'll go with you. Worst comes to worst, I'll just buy someone. I could use a weekend of fun."

I close my laptop and savor the last sip of my beer. "Get ready, Dad. In a few weeks, we're gonna go buy a woman."

"God damn child," he mutters under his breath, but I pay him no mind. With a chuckle, I hurry up the stairs, taking them two at a time to reach my room.

It's early still, so I might be able to get a few hours of searching in. Since I turned eighteen, I have been tirelessly searching for my stepsister, my heart set on finding her. My dad's marriage to Ali was short-lived, lasting only two years before she forcefully took her daughter away and issued a restraining order.

We listened. However, I held onto the hope that I would eventually locate her and once she reached eighteen, when the order was no longer in effect, we could finally have a conversation. Yeah, I have bigger plans than just talking, but let's have a conversation first.

Sloane has starred in every wet dream and fantasy I've had since I was fifteen when she and her mom moved in. I never trusted Ali; there was always something secretive about her, as if she had hidden agendas and was constantly up to something. Come to find out I was right. She had a major drug and alcohol problem and it all blew up when she got caught cheating.

Sometimes I wonder if Sloane knew what her mom was doing, and why she stayed quiet. She had to have known about the addiction, but did she know she was fucking her dealer? If she did, why wouldn't she tell my dad? Hell, at least tell me.

It doesn't matter. I'd like to know, yeah, just so there are no secrets between us, but it's already forgiven. I love her. Always have. At this rate, I think I might always love her. I've tried to date and none of them were her. So I've settled for meaningless sex, which is far and few between because my dad is right; sex complicates things.

Some women I'm intimate with know the score and are cool with it. Some, though, know the score, but still think they will be the one to change me.

Won't happen. Nine years ago, a girl with honey-brown hair, light blue eyes, and curves beyond her years walked into our house, instantly stealing my heart. Her blue eyes locked with mine as she innocently asked if I could show her to her room, and I immediately fell under her spell.

Sloane saw the real me and knew the kind and caring person underneath my hard exterior. Even now, people see me with all my tattoos, the clothes, and think I'm a bad boy.

Which, sure, I can be an asshole, and I love to pretend that nothing phases me. But Sloane... Sloane saw through the facade and right into my soul.

I have to find her.