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“Just get on with it,” I growl rudely. “What’s the point of dragging this out?”
Drummond sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes again.
“You’re such a sorry fucker,” he says. “You deserve to be shot and killed.”
“Agreed,” Shawn rumbles, lifting one eyebrow. “Look at him, he doesn’t regret a thing. No mercy, my brothers. That’s my recommendation.”
Costas’ face is expressionless but I see the conflict in his pale green eyes. At first, I think he’s going to say something in my defense, but I’m wrong. Instead, Costas joins the others. “We are decided then,” he says in a flat voice.
“We are,” the other two confirm.
Drummond leans forward, his form menacing. “Grayson Knight, you are sentenced to death.”
Trina gasps beside me, her curvy form collapsing, but strangely, I don’t feel anything. Death is welcome in my world, and I don’t fear the Grim Reaper any more than I fear a strong headcold or a devastating car accident.
But then everything changes.
“Okay, then.” Shawn drawls, leaning back and narrowing his eyes at Trina. “Now that we’ve decided that, what about the girl?” His eyes grow predatory as he takes in her luscious form. “I know I’d like a piece of that. Should we share her, brothers? Make her available to all the members as a serving girl? Or a pool girl, working the Lapis Pool? I’m open to suggestions.”
My spine goes steel stiff and a ball of red explodes before my eyes.
“Let. Her. Go,” I rasp harshly. “Do whatever you want with me, but let her go.”
Drummond’s look turns positively evil. “Oh I don’t know about that. She’s a hot piece, that’s for sure, even if you’ve already spoiled her. We can clean her up and use her again. Keep her for later, get what I’m saying? It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to reuse and recycle.”
Reuse and recycle? What the fuck? No fucking way! Over my goddamn dead body.
A roar bursts out of my throat. Rage explodes before my eyes, and I yank at the handcuffs while launching myself toward the steps leading to the high tribunal chairs. “Like fuck you will! Reuse and recycle? What the fuck, you fuckers!”
The zipties are tight around my wrists but I yank and jerk hard at them. Unbelievably, I feel them bending and begin to break. Frantic to get out of the restraints, I strain even harder. “You touch her and I’ll end you, you fucking motherfuckers! Fuck this shit!” I barely notice the warm stickiness of blood that trickles down my wrists, and I don’t care. They won’t touch her. I won’t let it happen.
“FUCK YOU!” I roar. The cuffs finally snap, and I charge like a madman toward the steps.
“Grayson!” Through the red haze of fear and fury, I hear Trina screaming my name, begging for me to calm down and be careful. “Gray!”
Halfway up the stairs, pain explodes at the back of my head, and I stop dead, crumpling into a useless heap. The last things I hear are Trina’s screams, loud and full of terror. Oh fuck. Have I fucked things up even more now? I’ve been sentenced to death … but all I care about is my beautiful Trina.
Chapter 13
Grayson
I shoot up on the mattress, drenched in cold sweat. “Trina!” Panic pounds through my heart, and I reach out for someone, anyone, before I realize I’m in bed. Specifically, my own bed in my Manhattan apartment.
How? Was that all a dream? No, it can’t be. Trina isn’t a dream. She’s too real, too perfect even with all her flaws, to be a fantasy that I’m forced to leave behind when I wake up.
Groaning from my aching head and thundering heartbeat, I untangle my legs from the sheets and climb out of bed. Except for a pair of tight black briefs, I’m naked.
How? The last thing I remember is…shit. The tribunal. They wanted to keep Trina for themselves to use as a serving girl. Oh fuck no. No fucking way. I won’t let it happen. I have to go back and get her. Those goddamn assholes.
Wobbling on my feet, hate blazes through me like an energizing flame. I’m going to burn down everything they own. I’ll fucking destroy the club and each and every corporation those motherfuckers own in every corner of the world. I’ll come after their families. Their kids. Their fucking pets, for crying out loud.
I stumble to my closet and grab a pair of sweats and yank them on. But where’s Trina? Where is my beautiful girl? What are they doing to her right this second? Are they prepping her to become a hostess or a pool girl? Or god forbid, putting her up for auction again? Rage blazes across my vision, making it impossible to see. My fingers fumble at the sweats, and I almost fall to the floor, unable to focus on anything but rescuing my female.
