Trey - Shandi Boyes Page 0,42
cranks to the side when a voice at the end of the hall murmurs out the last name I expected to hear in this confrontation. “Justine.” Eight walks gingerly down the hall, still feeling my anger from last night when he arrived at my room with Dok. I worked his ribs as good as I did Logan’s minutes ago, ensuring he knows K isn’t a gimmick to toy with me. “She understood K last night. Perhaps she will today as well.”
As much as it kills me to admit, he’s right. Justine communicated with many of the women last night, so perhaps she can help me get K out of this alive.
I jerk my head to the quad bikes stationed outside. They make the trip to the Popov compound ten times quicker than a normal mode of transport. “Good idea. Go get her.”
“Fuck no,” Eight instantly replies. “I don’t have a death wish.” He peers at K with the tip of the glass pierced through her skin before doubling the shake of his head. “You might survive Nikolai’s wrath from bringing his girl into this situation, but I most certainly won’t. I like my nuts, so I’d rather keep them a little longer.” He returns his eyes to mine. They’re brimming with an equal amount of truthfulness and cheekiness. “If Nikolai punishes me instead of killing me, I doubt he’s a finger-removing type of guy. I’d rather be dead than lose my nuts.”
“Fine.” Over his humor in an extremely volatile and dangerous situation, I shift on my feet to face Nero. “If anyone touches her, even you, disobeying Nikolai’s direct order will be the least of your worries. Do I make myself clear?”
Nero has no problems holding his own. He is as feared by Nikolai’s men as he is respected, but he also knows I’m not one to be messed with. If you want to fuck a whore straight after me, go ahead. If you want to cut up my drugs with shit that could kill me and I’m stupid enough to give them a go, that’s fair as well. But if you mess with something that’s mine, which for some fucked-up reason is exactly what I consider K as—mine—you sure as fuck better be prepared to die for it.
“They won’t touch her.” Smirking, Nero strays his eyes over the two dozen or more men huddled around us. “I warned them this morning she was your girl, so they’d do best to listen.” He returns his eyes to mine. They’re tougher than stones. “But you’ve got to know I ain’t lowering my gun until Nikolai gives me the order. One life is never worth more than another. You know that better than anyone.”
Not in the mood for another one of his lectures, he’s worse than Roman when his gums get flapping, I jerk up my chin. After giving K a final reassurance that she is safe, and that no one will touch her, I hightail it to one of the many quads surrounding Clarks. The motors were built to give maximum performance, but I still thrash the living shit out of it over the rugged, sandy plains.
When I arrive at the Popov compound only minutes later, my brows stitch. It’s different than it was only twenty-four hours ago—as am I. It’s more settled, somewhat heartening.
Although my first thought is to head to the sleeping quarters on the top level of the mansion, something redirects the direction of my course. I want to say it’s intuition, but since none of my actions the past six years have been driven by that, I’m not willing to use it as an excuse. It is the thump of my pulse in my ears, an experience I haven’t felt in years, and it’s there because of K. I’m certain of it.
The craziness I’ve been working like a stripper does a pole the past twenty-four hours gets a pat on the back when I find Nikolai in his office at the back of the Popov compound. He’s deep in thought. I don’t see that as a bad thing. Sometimes mix-ups are as cleansing as a bloodbath. That’s one of the reasons I stayed on with Nikolai’s crew after my recovery. I could have sought vengeance like Cole did, but honestly, where would that have gotten me? Back into the dark, hidden void I barely creep out of for more than a day a week.
Fuck that. I’d rather be dead than become anything like my brother. He killed