Black Rose

Storm brewing.

I froze, unsure that I heard him right. The fear building, I pulled away, shaking my head. "What are you talking about? What do you mean, you'll sell me? Are you some kind of pimp?"

He laughed at me. "No, my rose, I'm not a pimp. And I don't want to sell you. But if you can't fulfil my expectations, I will have no choice."

"I don't understand," I said, confused. "You can't sell a person. At least, not here. Not anymore. It's illegal."

Blake chuckled. "Oh, my precious rose. So naive. Laws are merely rules, and rules are designed to be broken. Where there is the market for a product, that product will be sold."

I shook my head. "But I'm not a product. I'm a person. I have rights."

Blake shook his head. "Rights are nothing but words when it comes down to it. They are broken all the time. Do you really think that a bunch of words are going to stop me from selling you?"

I went silent, feeling sick. After a long moment, I asked, "Are you really going to sell me?"

He went quiet himself, watching me. "I don't want to."

"But you could?" I asked.

He nodded. "I might."

I looked away, taking a shaky breath and looking out the window again. The bell must have rung for the end of lunch because Jordan was packing up her things. Some other girls from the year below were starting to point and whisper about the limo. Blake must have seen them because he meant over and tapped twice on the window to the driver once again. The driver understood, and we pulled back out onto the road and kept driving. I watched Jordan as we left, not looking away until we turned a corner and I couldn't see her.

Then I looked back inside, at my hands. Blake seemed to be watching me intently. It made me feel uncomfortable.

After a long stretch of silence, I spoke again, my voice weak. "How?"

He cocked his head at me. "How what, my rose?"

"How would you sell me?"

"Well," He said, "it would be a relatively easy process. We could do it a few different ways, depending on the time and place. Sometimes they do silent auctions, where potential buyers come to take a look at you and place their bets. Occasionally, if there are enough people to sell, they'll do a full auction. Then, once the price was settled, your buyer would front the money and whisk you away."

"To do what?" I asked fearfully. Blake shrugged.

"Whatever they wanted you for." He said. "Some just use you as a house slave, a maid to keep the house in order. Some want you as a concubine. Others are like me and will use you for all sorts of purposes. It just depends on the buyer."

I pursed my lips, feeling my stomach churn. "How do you know so much about this?"

He paused for a moment before answering, "I do my research."

Something in his voice told me that there was something he wasn't telling me, but I didn't feel brave enough to challenge him, so I stayed quiet. He must have finally taken note of the horror on my face because he let out a sigh and continued rubbing my leg.

"Oh, my poor rose. Look how upset you've gotten. Don't worry so much. You're much too precious for me to do that." He said. "Just remember this, the next time you feel like disobeying me."

I nodded mutely, looking down at his hand on my thigh. He watched me for a moment, then lifted his hand and brushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

"It's time to rest now, my rose. We're going to the place we'll have lunch, but it will be a bit of a drive. Take the time to think about what I've told you, and how you can change to be more like my perfect rose. Understood?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir."

He gave my leg a pat, then drew his hand away, lazing it across his lap. I silently let out a breath of relief. Part of me had been expecting another 'reward,' and I was thankful that he wasn't fulfilling that expectation.

He turned to the window, and I did the same, looking out at the passing landscape and thinking about what he had told me.

My mind turned to the plan I had devised with Gwen. What would happen if Blake found out? What if our plan failed? Was it even worth it, if Blake would sell me as punishment?

I looked up, at the sky, and noticed some dark clouds forming. Blake must have noticed them too because he let out another sigh. "It looks like a storm is brewing. I hope it doesn't snow again."

I glanced back at him. It was as though he was reading my mind. I swallowed the lump in my throat and returned my gaze to the window.

Blake was right.

A storm was brewing. And I was trapped right in the middle of it.