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I look up at her and try to read her eyes. The only thing I can hold on to is that we’re here for something – to make money for her – so she won’t kill me.
I hope.
“You will all be ready. In a matter of days, you’ll have to put everything you’ve been taught into practice, and I won’t have any fuck ups. Do you hear me?” She bares her teeth at me like a dog. And as quickly as she turned, she’s all smiles and back to being the professional. “You will answer any command with yes, and you will remember that you represent me. Because if things don’t go well, then you’ll really understand what pain feels like.” She tosses that threat back as if it’s an afterthought.
I haven’t moved from the floor, and I won’t. Not until we’re alone. “Bandages and antiseptic, unless you want us all hobbling around like invalids!” I shriek. Maybe she’ll change her mind if we’re less than at our best.
She whips her head around, but takes us all in.
We’re all suffering.
“Fine. Outfits will be brought in. Choose, and choose wisely. You’re here to impress.” Her voice is cold and holds an edge of frustration.
“Impress who?”
A chill seems to descend over the room at my question. We all want to know, but there’s also fear. At least for Miri and me. She doesn’t answer, and it’s as if all eight of us are waiting on her answer.
With purpose, she turns. “Oh, no. That would spoil the fun.” Her smile is wicked and turns my stomach. Because I know she’s not doing this for effect. She knows what’s coming, and it’s nothing good.
Chapter Eleven
JACKSON
I’ve done nothing but think for the last twenty-four hours. I’ve thought about this place around me and what it means to me. The dancers and Jamie. And my team of guys, all of whom have been getting as fucking confused as I have these last few weeks. This place wasn’t built for the kind of carnage I’ve let through the doors. I’m not built for it. Add little Naja into the mix, or whatever it is that I’m feeling for her, and I’m going mad trying to get my head straight.
I stare out into the night’s scene unfolding. Auction night. It’s here, and Naja is in the wings somewhere waiting for her fate to come calling. I’m so fucking pissed about that that I’m barely holding a cordial greeting on my face for the clients. Then there's this constant vengeance that's lying low inside me. I want to get my own back somehow. Cheat them out of what they think is a sure thing just to prove I can. That's what men like me do when threatened. They should have been nicer. Requested rather than ordered.
Sneering at everything in a quiet moment, I run through the options available to me again. I can’t kill Cortez unless I kill all of them. Two down might be enough to get us away from here tonight, but I’ll be hunted my whole life for that crime. And if I do manage to get Naja out of here without both of us being killed, this whole building and everyone in it will be taken down.
It’s a no-win, whichever way I look at it. On the run and constantly looking behind me, or she gets bought by one of these bastards around me now.
Still, I’m not done trying to find a solution.
Something moves behind me, making me turn sharply. Abel stands there in the shadows, a low frown steady on his brow. Three Cortez brothers are here now. More carnage.
He pulls a toothpick out of his mouth and walks out into the light, staring around the room. “Where’s the money?” he asks.
I scour the room for Poe, trying to understand the level of threat I need to contend with. “Deposits are in the safe.”
“And they’ve brought enough with them for the rest of it?”
“They know the score. I made sure of it. The rest should all be in the bags they’ve brought with them.”
He looks across the room at Dragon, crooks a finger at him. He starts walking in our direction, which instantly sets my hackles on edge.
“You need to get a check of that attitude, Reed,” Abel murmurs. “Looks like he went easy on you.” He stares at the gash on my face, draws his gaze over it. “Could’ve been worse. Easy enough to deal with the likes of you.” I look between them both as Dragon gets to us, infuriated at the lack of respect I’m being shown. “You need to get those bags checked, Dante.”
He nods and leaves us alone again, and I watch as he starts picking up bags and opening them without checking if he can. “I get it, though,” Abel says to me as he begins walking. “We all start somewhere. Must be a bitch to be treated like a whore.” He chuckles darkly to himself and nods at one of the girls behind the bar for a drink. “Place looks good, though. Girls look better.”
“You’ve seen them?”
“Just been in with Elias. He’s back there now.” He stares right at me as he says that as if checking for any fucking show of irritation. It’s damn hard to hide, but if I’m going to do what I’m thinking about doing, letting Abel see any of this is a nightmare waiting to happen – for everyone.
Carmen walks over from somewhere. “I’ve picked one. She’s cute enough, young. Should get the clients ready to spend big.”
His arm goes around her and they both stare at me. No fucking idea why, but it’s enough to start raising those hackles up again that I’m trying to hide.
“What?” I say.
