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“Enough to warrant taking him all the way across the ocean?” Dez sounded skeptical.
“I’ll take him to Europe, but no further. Either way, he doesn’t have much time left.”
“As you wish,” Dez conceded. His voice dropped a notch, a sultry note slipping in. “Since I'll be leaving for England before you, I’ll have less time here than the others. Can I come to your trailer tonight?”
Madame released a melodious peal of laughter. “It's not your turn, my pet. I believe Leslo needs me the most tonight. Go find him.”
By the shuffling of Dez’s feet, he wasn’t in a hurry to leave her. It appeared he just moved closer to her.
“I always need you the most—”
His words, filled with desperation, were cut short by a ringing sound of a slap—her hand against his skin.
“What you need is patience and restraint.” Madame’s voice turned sharp like a knife, no longer enchantingly musical. “Go get Leslo, slave.”
She stormed out. Dez stomped to deliver on her order. And I sucked in a breath.
Dez said he’d check on Kyllen tomorrow. Obviously, he wouldn’t do it by opening the crate. Maybe he’d try talking to him or moving the crate around to hear if Kyllen would make any noise.
No one knew I’d been giving Kyllen water. Dez would expect him to be near death. He had to confirm Kyllen was still alive, so Madame would take him with us to England. If she left him here, he’d surely die.
I couldn’t let that happen.
