Trey - Shandi Boyes Page 0,44
blood dribbles off my arm to puddle around my bare feet. “But you need to know, this won’t help anyone.”
That’s easy for him to say. He wasn’t dragged down the corridor by a man double his weight and height. If I didn’t use all the strength I gathered last night from tussling with Trey and winning, I’d be holed up with him like Ana is, most likely fighting for my life.
I don’t speak a word of English, but I have no trouble understanding it. The things he said he was going to do to me was the reason I fought so hard.
I won.
Ana didn’t.
Her screams were still echoing in my ears when I raced toward the kitchen to seek help. I thought Trey would protect us, he pledged exactly that only mere hours before, so you can imagine my surprise when my quest for help had me stumbling onto him assaulting a man while issuing the threat of rape as if it’s a game.
That’s when I realized I had to take matters in my own hands. I want to be free, but only now am I realizing the only person who can free me is me—and perhaps Trey. He killed a member of his crew for me without a single snip of hesitation crossing his features. I was shocked, and it had me replaying how he tossed me out of the line of fire on repeat in my head, but since it wasn’t the time to sit down and work through my confusion, I got my head back into game mode.
As I do again now.
“He took her,” I repeat in Czech. “She was right there. He snatched her away.” Sick of the horrifying life I’ve been forced to live the past six years, I dig the tip of the glass in deeper to the vein in my neck that won’t quit pumping out its own tune. It’s been that way since I unearthed Trey’s true identity last night. “If he kills her, I will die. Do you understand? I’ll be dead.” Tears prick my eyes when a wish to live overwhelms me. They’ve been so far and few between the past six years, even I’m shocked by my mumbled confirmation. “I don’t want to die. I’ve barely lived. It’s not time for me yet. Please help me. That’s all I’m asking. I just need some help.”
Nero ensures his gun is pointed at my heart before he steps closer to me. “Don’t,” he pleads when his closeness has me piercing the glass in further to my vein. “I’m trying to help you. You want my help, don’t you?” When I nod, he inches closer. “Then put the glass down.” I stop shaking my head when he asks, “Is it your sister? Is she who you’re after?”
It takes me a few seconds to click on to who he’s referencing, but when I do, my heart launches into my throat. It isn’t a good launch. It reminds me how Achim never strays from his preferred choice—blonde hair, blue eyes, and a slender frame. Even his wife has the same features, so it’s understandable Nero is mistaking Ana as my sister. We often used our likeness to our advantage when the pain of Achim’s demands became too much to bear.
Even knowing Nero won’t understand a word I’m speaking, I can’t help but reply. “I need her back. If I return her to Achim, I’ll be free. He’s sending men to collect her. He knows she’s here.”
Before Nero can reply, Trey returns to the room. He isn’t alone. The man and woman who freed me from captivity only twenty-four hours ago follows him into the room. “What the fuck, Trey?” the dark-haired man grinds out when he spots the glass piercing my neck.
When Trey notices the droplets of blood coating my feet, his response is barely legible since it’s chopped up by the anger clutching his throat. “She doesn’t speak English, and your girl speaks multiple languages, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to know what her demands are.”
The rattle of his vocal cords reveals how close to the edge he is. He’s on the brink, ready to explode at any moment, which both terrifies and excites me. I snuck out of his room last night because the burden of my freedom doesn’t belong on his shoulders. I walked through the gates of hell hoping to be freed, so I have to deal with the blisters my walk caused alone.
Just like I’ll be the one