The Auction House Deal: Bought by A Billionaire

I could tell that Martin was nervous seeing Roman out the window.

"It’ll be fine," I assured him. I reached out my hand to pat his shoulder, but he shrugged me away and turned.

"You don’t know that. We have to leave. They’re going to..."

"Don’t worry. Roman won’t hurt you. He loves me. He really does. He’ll understand. He’d do anything for me."

I looked out the window and saw Ed and Marcus there as well. I could understand why Martin was nervous. He thought Roman had bought me and was using me as a sex slave. They thought some stranger had kidnapped me.

Somehow, we all had to come to an understanding.

I took out my phone and was about to call Roman when Martin snatched it away.

"Hey," I said.

"Not yet. I promise, you’ll be with Roman again. I can see you really love him, but I just - my protective nature - I need to make sure. We have to do this right so no one gets hurt."

I stared at Martin. His skin was tinged green. He took small steps, pacing the room, looking down at the floor.

His nervousness bothered me. I guessed it was my naivete, but I thought we would just tell the truth and everyone would understand.

"Did you go AWOL or something?" I asked. "Why are you so nervous?"

"You don’t understand." He looked at me and grabbed my hands, keeping his gaze on my eyes. "Just promise me, you’ll back up my story."

"Of course, if you just tell them what happened..."

"There’s more to it. There’s more you don’t know."

Martin pushed the curtains closed. He started packing up what little was left in the room, shoving the clothes and food in a duffel bag. "We can’t leave a trace."

I sat on the bed and looked at him. "I’m not leaving," I said, folding my arms and crossing my legs. "Not until you tell me what’s going on - everything." I gave him the best serious face I could muster.

He scratched his head and, with a jittery gait, stepped to the window and peeked through the curtains. "We don’t have much time. Come on. Trust me."

I didn’t move. "You better start talking - fast."

Martin looked annoyed, but he faced me. "I told you I was in the special forces."

I nodded.

"And Dad basically disowned me, so I thought it was safer that I stay away. I hoped it would be better for all of you if I wasn’t there to poke at Dad and annoy him."

I shook my head. "Except it was worse, but go on." I sweeped my hand out, indicating he should continue.

"Well, when I did come back to town, I found out Dad had been arrested. I went to a bar with some soldier friends, and they were talking about a human trafficking ring. They mentioned Dad’s name and his arrest."

"So why didn’t you come find us then? You could have..."

Martin shook his head as if he had a really painful headache. "I just kept hearing Dad’s words that you were all better off without me. The trauma I experienced with him, then the PTSD from being in war zones, it was all taking a toll. I know I shouldn’t have believed him, but I did. So, I vowed to keep watch on you from afar."

"You were always so protective."

"I came for you one night. You stepped out in the dark, but you really got me good, and I got spooked."

I narrowed my eyes and looked in his gaze. "That was you?"

"When I learned about Dad, I did some investigating on my own. I learned that Roman bought you, and it made me so angry. All I could think about was revenge. I had wanted to talk to you first, but he had you so guarded. I assumed it was because he wanted to keep you dependent on him, away from the outside world. I never imagined it was because you were actually in love, and he was protecting you."

I could understand Martin’s arguments. If I came back from living in a war zone and being around people with guns all day, I might be quick to take up arms too.

There had been several times when I’d felt like I was being watched. With Martin’s explanation, I knew why.

"I get it," I said with a nod. "I can’t imagine how I would feel if I thought someone I loved was being hurt. But you can’t go around like a maniac anymore. You have to talk about things."

Martin pulled the curtain back a little and looked outside again. He looked a little jittery still.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone."

"I mean, we all thought you were a ghost anyway. You secretly came and went, barely being detected. You need to make that into a profession," I said, trying to make him feel better. "If you just give me my phone, I can call Roman and clear this all up."

"No, no," he shook his head. He rested his body weight on his left leg, then his right. His eyes wandered around the room as if her were looking for a solution.

"What was the plan, anyway? I mean, you had me here, but what was next?"

"I’m sorry."

"You keep saying that. Just stop. I know you wanted to save me."

I wanted to reach out and hug him, but he seemed so nervous and agitated, I decided against it.

"Look, just calm down. I love you. I’m so glad you’re back. But maybe your time as a soldier infiltrated your thinking just a little. You don’t always need to take such drastic measures. We can talk about anything."

"They’re probably going to flank the building," Martin started to say to himself. "And they’ll draw their weapons. I could use Hannah - no. She’s been through enough."

I could hear him running through the various scenarios in his head. It was sad to watch him struggle in that moment. He had always been my protector, and I could see what kind of toll it was taking on his psyche.

"Martin," I stood up and stepped closer to him, real carefully.

"What if we go out? I’ll stay with you. I’ll tell them you never meant to hurt anybody."

"But that isn’t true, is it?" He looked me in the eye, then he shook his head. "No. It won’t work."

"Well, I’m not fighting our way out. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, but we have to respect law enforcement."

His eyes began to look wild, a little crazed, as he sought a solution to our problem. I chalked it up to his time on the battlefield. He’d probably been taught never to get captured. On the other hand, I was certain that the FBI, the cops, and Roman would all understand once I described the circumstances. Martin didn’t have to surrender; he just needed to explain.

What was also clear was that our father had made Martin so vigilant that he couldn’t relax in order to think clearly.

This wasn’t like the army where he needed to follow orders. Instead, he needed to make decisions for himself, and it looked like he could use some help.

"You know how Dad, when he was mad, would tell us how stupid we were or how we didn’t deserve to even live in the house, threatening to make us sleep in the garage?" I asked.

"I actually had to sleep in the garage once. There’s no heat in there. It was cold."

"Anyway, he made it seem like we couldn’t make any mistakes, or, at the very least, we had to ask his approval for everything. But it isn’t like that anymore. You’re not going to have to stay in the garage." I hoped my story was calming him down, helping him to step off of the proverbial ledge.

"I don’t want to go to jail. No one got hurt. I didn’t mean to..."

I inched a little closer. My plan was to help Martin understand he could trust me and Roman.

"I’m not going to let that happen. Roman and I have a good rapport with the FBI. We helped them break up the Auction House. They’ll understand. And Roman, like I said - he’ll forgive you because I have. I know it’s hard. I have nightmares sometimes too, but we’re free from Court, and you’re just going to have to trust me if you want to keep your freedom."

I held out my hand to Martin. He looked at me and at my hand.

And just as he was about to grab it, we heard a knock on the door.