𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙣
⊱ ─────────── ⊰

"We're getting out of here right now." Chris barks.

"Checking the cameras for Lydia and Jasmine," Andy follows up right away.

"Forget Jasmine, she's with them now. Fuck her." Chris insists sharply.

I snatch away from him, appalled.

"No?!" I object loud and clear. "She's my best friend, Chris-"

"Then why didn't she leave with you or Jabari, huh? She doesn't want to be saved, Morgan." Chris tries getting it through my head.

I seal my lips and then run out of the room.

"MORGAN!" Chris yells after me.

"The fuck are you doing?" He asks once he catches up to me and grabs me.

I slap his hand away. "You can't be seen here, I can. I'm going to find Jas, I'm not leaving without her."

"And I'm not leaving without you."

"You won't have to," I assure him. "just give me a few minutes to find her - you can watch me on the monitors."

"No," Chris doesn't hesitate. "Fuck no, actually. Come on right now."

"Chris..." I sigh, vexed.

"Morgan, I'm not letting you go again. Good things don't happen when you're not by my side."

"You always save me, Chris. This time won't be any different, so let me go." I confidently tell him and finally pry his fingers off of me.

Once he accepts that I'm doing this with or without his approval, I run down the hall towards the dressing room where I first found Jasmine earlier in the night.

The party is still going on as if there wasn't a shoot out.

Perhaps that happens often here. Well, I won't stick around long enough to find out.

I maneuver carefully, acting like any of the other ladies of the night.

Keeping my head down just long enough, I make it to the dressing room.

"Jasmine?" I call out her name.

"Psst, Jas?"

I cautiously make way to her vanity and get discouraged when I don't see her there.

"What the hell do you want?" One topless escort says to me.

"Have you seen Jasmine?" I ask her.

"The black chick?"

I nod my head.

"Probably getting ready for the auction. That, or doing blow off Tate's cock somewhere." She tells me nonchalantly.

"Where's Tate?"

She shrugs her shoulders, rubbing on glittery lotion. "Don't know, don't care. I'm sure he's headed to the bidding, though."

"Where is that?"

"What are you, a cop?" She remarks with a scoff.

"Now help me rub this lotion on my back, darlin'."

I ignore her request and run out of the room.

It's gone quiet all of a sudden. Too quiet.

Tiptoeing around each corner, I spot the cameras and look up at them to reassure Chris that I'm fine as promised.

✕

The journey isn't long before I find a large ballroom.

I push the door open and stay at the back of the room while the others are gathered around the staircase.

Lined along the steps are nude girls filed neatly in front of one another.

They stand there like statues in their masks, on display.

Suddenly, the large door closes behind me and the crowd goes up in gasps and murmurs.

A spotlight scans the floor until it stops on me.

"Ah, there she is..." Raymond speaks with joy.

He, like Tatum, isn't wearing a mask. They don't have to hide their evil.

The crowd starts to clap as I walk forward.

"Just in time." I hear Tate say, literally standing in his father's shadow.

"Everyone give it up for Barbie! Let's start the bidding at $750,000."

"$800,000!" One man yells with a British accent.

The crowd parts for me to ascend the stairs.

Scared, I stay at the base of the steps and look around.

Is this real? Who are these people? How long have they been doing this, and how are they getting away with it? Why are they doing this?

Every pair of eyes are glued on me, they move in unison with each advancement I make.

"Oooo." The horde choruses.

This goes on for some time. That is, until a woman's voice cuts in.

"One million dollars." Her offer lingers for a while as no one seemingly can top it.

She winks at me.

"One point five million dollars." Tate speaks up. His offer makes me audibly gasp.

Everyone starts to chatter amongst themselves, surprised at his participation in the auction.

"Tate, what do you think you're doing? You know you're not allowed to place an offer." His father scolds him on the staircase.

"Why not, father? I have the money this year, and I want her more than anything. I get the girl, you get your money, what's the problem?"

"The problem is this isn't how we do business. You still have a lot to learn, Tatum. Retract your offer now." Raymond demands.

Tate defiantly raises his card. "Two million dollars!"

I look up at him with fear in my eyes and heart.

Surely he doesn't really have two million dollars, I hope.

Gulp.

"FOUR POINT FIVE MILLION DOLLARS CASH." A high roller appears at the top of the staircase.

I start to smile ear to ear under my mask, suddenly full of hope.

Never too far behind, like I said.

It's Chris. And in his shadow, Andy, who acts as an assistant or security detail so they can keep up the charade that they aren't who they really are.

While his ideas scare me, I appreciate Chris's boldness to stand before these people. Like he's hiding in plain sight: They expected him to come save me, but I'm sure the last thing they expected is him to be right in their faces.

Unless Tate takes off his mask, surely there's no way he'll know it's Chris, I think in my head.

"Get him." Tate orders.

Or not.

His guards don't hesitate to oblige, lunging at Chris and Andy.

The crowd scurries, frightened, probably thinking they're next.

I run towards Jasmine but the guard from before in the Purge mask grabs me, hoisting me off of my feet and keeping me there.

I have no choice but to squirm in his arms as I watch Chris and Andy fight off six men.

Chris uses his jacket to choke one man and then, like Jackie Chan, uses that man's arm to knock out another approaching fighter.

As he squares off with another, some man comes from behind and puts him in a chokehold.

"CHRIS!" I scream out loud.

"Oh?" Tate speculates.

He snaps his fingers and calls off the attack.

"Hold him down. The sidekick, too." He demands.

It takes three men to shove Chris onto his knees. They hold him by the throat and each arm.

Tate approaches Chris and looks at me over his shoulder, smirking.

He drives his fist across my fiancés face and then snatches off his mask.

Chris is hardly phased by the punch, but he does have a mark under his eye.

Andy can barely keep himself up after taking a beating from the biggest fighter.

"James." Tate summons the man who resembles The Mountain from 'Game of Thrones.'

This James character stand before Chris and drives his knee into his chin.

"STOP TATE!" I yell angrily, falling out of the guard's arm.

I fall onto my knees and crawl to Chris's body.

"I'm okay," he tells me through a cough. I know he is.

"Bring out the Buck." Tate commands.

Less than a minute goes by when Jabari is drug out to us.

He is pushed down by Chris's feet and struggles to lift himself up.

He's beat up badly, but alive, that's all that matters.

"Glad you're all here," Tate says, "you can die together."

"Why are you doing this?!" I cry out.

Tate sarcastically frowns. "Don't worry, Barbie, I'll spare your life."

"Only if I let you have your way with me, you disgusting prick." I mumble.

"Don't be like this," he says, bored. "you know the choice has already been made. Unless you have two million dollars."

I hang my head, unable to look him in the eyes anymore.

"I do." The same dark feminine voice from earlier in the bidding comes into view.

"Who the hell?" Tate bleats, snapping his neck so he can see the woman who dares to top his offer.

"Lydia," I huff, stunned to see her.

Removing her mask, Lydia winks at me.

"Mrs.Augustin," Raymond drawls, "I didn't think you'd ever accept my invitation to a shindig."

Lydia's arm unfolds for Raymond to take it and charm her with a kiss on the hand.

She purses her lips. "I'd hardly call it a shindig. I don't know what my husband ever saw in this place - these people."

Ray smirks devilishly. "Your husband was the smartest man I knew, and my personal best friend."

Lydia's face falls to a sneering smile. "Mhm. Since you were so close, I take it you won't mind me outbidding your son, will you?"

Lydia and Mr.Slaughter fix their gaze on Tate.

Raymond curls his lip and growls at his son for interfering with the auction.

Smoothing his dark hair back, Raymond laughs impatiently to Lydia. "That was a mistake. Now, how about that one million dollars, eh?"

Lydia rolls her eyes. "You know, I retract my offer, but I'll still take the girl."

Raymond scoffs. "No deal. Guards—"

Lydia, unmoved and not intimidated, laughs. "Let's not forget: you owe me, Raymond."

Tate sucks in air sharply, stepping to the front. "He said no deal. Beat it."

Raymond uses his forearm to push his son away strictly.
His strong eyebrow creases to deliver a fatherly look at Tate.

"You, zip it." Says Raymond.

"Lydia, for you, anything, but she still has a debt to pay..." he affronts, cutting his eyes to me.

"The seven hundred-fifty thousand? I'll give you eight; her debt is paid, and so is yours to me." Lydia hums with a hint of self-assuredness.

Raymond, rubbing his hands together, laughs through his nose.
Seeing Lydia isn't bluffing, he seals his lips and puts his praying hands against them.

"Done. Anything for you." He agrees, taking her by the hand to shake it, securing the deal.

"I've always liked you, Raymond," Lydia croons, "You were the better businessman between you and my husband."

Raymond grabs Mrs.Augustin roughly by her arm, alerting myself and Chris, but the guards only hold us tighter so we can't do anything.

Pushing his forehead to hers, Raymond says, "This means I know longer owe you. I don't want to see you around here again. Clear?"

Lydia grabs both sides of Raymond's face and stares him in the eyes.
She's a badass and slowly winning me over with the way she's unshaken by Ray and his thugs.
I don't hate Lydia.

Close enough to kiss him if she wanted to, Lydia tells Raymond, "Translucent."

She pushes away from Raymond and fixes the strands of her sleek gray wig before sauntering over to me.

"Thank you." I mouth to her as she links her arm with me.

Lydia winks at me, doesn't say a word, but it meant a lot.

"Oh, and they're coming with me, too." Lydia insists, referring to Chris, Andy, and J.

Raymond just flicks his wrist, signaling his help to release the boys.

"Over my dead body!" Tate rages, lunging forward at Chris as his back is turned to him.

"CHRIS!" I scream for my fiancé to warn him.

With his athleticism, awareness, and instincts, Chris turns around in a split second and greets Tate's face with his fist.
I swear I heard something break.

His body lies on the floor, nose cracked and bloodied, cursing Chris's guts and entire existence.

Stepping over his son's body, Raymond orders, "Bring in the next girl!"

Jasmine rushes to Tate's side, stopping me from my descent down the staircase.

"Jasmine..." I whisper, hoping she cares enough to look up at me.

After screaming at the guards to get something to help Tatum, she does find my gaze.

Despite Chris yanking on my arm to pull me with him down the stairs, I snatch away.

"Jasmine, you have to come with me now, okay? It isn't good here, this isn't you. I know things weren't good at home, but-"

Her eyes go from sorrow to pure anger.

"GET... OUT!" Her bellow is so full of hatred that it comes from the pits of her stomach.

"GO!" She screams, swatting at me with her stiletto nails.

I jump back, not expecting her to swing on me.

Chris grabs me, making sure I'm okay with one look-over.

"Let's go," he urges. "That isn't Jasmine anymore, she doesn't want you to save her, get it through your head. It's too late for her."

Tate starts to wake back up after an episode of being stiff and nonverbal. He groans, trying to sit up as blood drips onto the carpet.

Touching his nose as he slowly rises to his feet, Tate is vexed at the fact that he's sustained an injury from Chris.

He starts to curse under his breath but Chris picks me up off of my feet and runs with me down the stairs and out of the ballroom.

"You son of a bitch," we hear Tate yell after us. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

The doors slam before Tate can threaten us anymore.

Andy rushes to pull the car around.

He yells, "Get in," and we don't hesitate to.

Chris, Lydia, Jabari, and I file in, not wasting time with seatbelts.

Andy flies out of the driveway, prompting me to then put on my seatbelt.

Chris, in the front seat, turns up look at me in the back between Lydia and JB.
"You okay?" He asks me hurriedly.

I only nod my head, riddled with anxiety but adrenaline is fueling me.

"Is this a Roll's Royce?" My random question makes the group laugh.

The laughter increases, we're hysterical.

Chris, looking ahead in the passenger seat, reaches back to touch me anywhere he can.
I quietly laugh admirably at his desperation to show me affection. Clingy.

The corners of my lips pull upwards to form a widespread smile that doesn't go away for some time.

Letting out a sigh, I rest my head against the window.

"Well," Andy cracks, "that was easy..."